Race the maze and end on the moon

I've tried to remain positive, truly, even in light of all this dreary rain that I've been dragging around with me.  Traveling requires a certain amount of flexibility even when things go divinely.  And things have not gone divinely...at all.  My departure from Scotland and entrance to Iceland was pretty par for the course for this trip.  It was rainy and cold leaving our flat with the worlds heaviest luggage to drag across the cobblestone streets and down the Closes and Wynds of old town. A Close or Wynd is a small passage way between buildings or streets which  for most western cultured people would mean "do not enter", but in fact are public passageways. Each is named, but I am not clear on how one acquires its name, but I do know that a Close would be closed after dark by a gate and a Wynd remains open at all times.  If one is named a Court, the passage way opens up into a court between a square(-ish) of multiple buildings and will often be residential in nature.  These were beautiful once I got the nerve to venture back there and ran into all sorts of people passing through.  

I had made plans to meet a Scot at one of my transfer stations before reaching the airport to gather something for a friend and hoped to confirm the details during the hour trip to the central Glasgow station from the Edinburgh Waverly station. (The Waverly station sits near the Sir Walter Scott monument and is named for his Waverly papers).  I had opted to take a little later train for a more leisurely morning, so needed to give this information to my liaison.  With Libby's help I got to the station in plenty of time, we parted ways and I was on my own again. I pulled my ticket from the self serve machine and located my platform-with time to spare.  This was just MARVelous, darling.  While waiting, I checked for wifi in the Waverly station-nope.  But the rail carriage had wifi I knew from my trip to St. Andrew's and confirmed by my friend who lives in Scotland.  So I did not worry.  Until a two carriage 1970's rickety "train" clickety clacked into the station.  I'm pretty sure, "for the love of God!" actually came out of my mouth and was not just in my head. You can bet your 1970's Farrah hairstyle that this relic did not have wifi. 

After many delays and slow stops and starts on the tracks in the middle of nowhere, we finally reached Glasgow Central, about 10 minutes late which only gave me about 9 minutes to find the other train I needed to get to the Paisley station where I would meet my Scot man for the secret handoff of a metal armadillo for my friend. This train was brand new and glorious, but I was only on it for 8 minutes so I rushed to get out several messages. 

The Paisley station was small, (no wifi), which made it easy to find the handsome Scot I was meeting.  He treated me to a tea, some funny stories, and we successfully made the hand off of Lloyd the armadillo. Soon after, I was on a city bus with other Glasgowians headed to the airport. Once at the airport, there was wifi...and for 1 and 1/2 hours I tried to get it to work.  No Luck.  But I made my plane and was headed to Iceland to see the Northern Lights! 

While the plane had wifi, it was only for the upper crust and I was riding in the peasant section, but I knew that the Rekyivek airport had wifi b/c I had used it before.  Once there, I would be able to confirm the address and directions to the apartment accommodations.  Surely.  But no, the airport wifi would not allow me to log on for more than about 2 minutes--just before border control.  This may be a courtesy so that travelers can assure loved ones that they've arrived safely, but who knows.  

I snaked my way through the various parts of this ultramodern airport to baggage claim (baggage re-claim) which they sign as "arrivals" which actually confused me as I thought I might be exiting the secure area and I might have trouble coming back in to get my bags.  As part of the marketing genius of the airport planners, the duty free alcohol purchase area is right by baggage claim.  Alcohol is very heavily taxed in Iceland-up to 50%-so I scooped up a bottle of wine and the cheapest bottle of vodka I could find because I needed it.  And still no wifi. 

There is a service to get to the city of Rekyivek from the international airport which is about 50 miles away in Kevliek.  It's called flybus and is really slick.  It's a coach type bus that rides high and smooth...and has WIFI.  Except mine did not have working wifi.  However, it was cold, windy, and overcast so I was batting a thousand.  I rode the bus to the central bus station which is said to be in the city center.  Where it actually goes is to a run down concrete building in the grassy median of what appear to be two highways. 

Iceland was not thrilling me so far as it looked liked a post apocalyptic war torn mad max civilization on an outlying planet. Everything building appeared to have been build from the same square concrete mold post 1970's, but I know I had read that the Icelandic people had been born of the Vikings so I wondered if I was just in the run down 'hood of Iceland. There was graffiti on all the buildings, it was getting dark, and I had not yet been able to confirm the walking directions to the apartment.  Thank my lucky stars I could hijack the Enterprise Rental Car wifi and at least get a message to my new travel buddy who was already at the apartment.  I told her I was going to walk, but after attempting it for one block and being blown back by the wind, I went back into the BSI,hijacked the Enterprise Rental Car wifi and told her I was taking a cab, thank you very much! 

Once deposited at the apartment, I opened that bottle of wine.  It had been a long frustrating day.