Edina.

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#100BM Day 74
It’s been a long-ass 24 hours (actually 19). Five cities in three countries to get where I am now: In the kitchen of a student flat, drinking tea, and eating discount bourbon creams.

A thing that happened:
My flight from Ottawa to Halifax left 45 minutes late. When I got to the airport, I asked at check-in if I was going to have time. ‘Oh, no problem! Your flight’s on time and the airport’s super small.’ I asked again at 18:25, when we were supposed to be boarding. ‘Oh, it shouldn’t be a problem. Our plane will be here any minute and will be leaving as soon as possible after that.’

I spent the whole first flight panicking, wondering if there would be room on a flight the following day, and how to avoid the very loud laughter and horrible breath of my seatmate.

After a too-long wait for them to open the doors of the airplane (I was doing something very similar to a little kid pee-pee dance), there was an announcement by cabin crew JUST FOR ME to say that Icelandair flight 430 was leaving from gate 28. THEY KNEW I HAD ARRIVED.

I double-checked at the counter, and was told they were waiting for me.

I ran down the concourse, with a ‘SERIOUSLY, REALLY, WHERE ARE YOU WE ARE ABOUT TO LEAVE?!’ announcement through the terminal shaming me. Everyone had boarded (well, duh, it was 3 minutes before the flight was due to leave). The boarding pass printer wasn’t working (I only had a QR code on my phone, because I thought I’d be able to check in). The other staffer had to start hers up again. I asked about my checked bag and was told that chances were slim that it would make it. I said ‘Oh, whatever’, got my pass, and ran. The cabin crew was very nice, assured me it was fine/not my fault, but all the skeptical, grouchy tourists and Icelanders were glaring. (Or asleep.)

It was the worst, most boring action film ever.

Some things I saw:

  • Multiple episodes of ‘Arrested Development’ in a misguided attempt at familiarity causing relaxion/fatigue/sleep. Nope.
  • Literally thousands of tourists in Keflavík airport, even though it was 5:15am local time when we arrived.
  • Skyr, my one true love.

  • A wee boy getting on the bus to get to the next plane who said ‘Oh, that air is frosty!’ to the delight of the rest of the passengers.
  • MANY old people complaining about the airline’s service. Whatever, they held a plane for me, ya jerks, so who cares if they don’t provide free food? Most airlines don’t bother with that anymore for flights under 3 hours. Also, in Keflavík airport, all the ‘please head to your gate’ English announcements ended with ‘So, you’d better hurry up so we don’t have to leave you behind.’ I found that quite pleasing.
  • Two kids having total meltdowns on the way to Customs because they were tired as hell (I can’t imagine why.)
  • MY SUITCASE. IT MADE IT.
  • A lot of Glasgow City Centre because I was so tired that I made a wrong turning IMMEDIATELY after getting off the airport shuttle, even though I had just looked at a map. S’okay, it’s pretty. Just don’t look down. There is more gum embedded in the pavement than I’ve ever seen in my life.

Glasgow's kinda nice

  • The placenames ‘Whifflet’, ‘Crossmyloof’, and ‘Hairmyres’ on train station departure boards

August 2014 trip day 1

  • Chris Colfer’s Glaswegian twin, who sold me my first egg & cress sandwich of the trip.
  • My first discarded Irn Bru can of the trip. A fucking tall boy of it, left on my train seat.
  • A little girl where a pink jacket with ‘Paul’s Boutique’ across the back of it.
  • Two German backpackers making their way through a bag of rolls and pastry, about 500g of cheese, and a litre of soy milk (direct from the carton) during a 45-minute train journey.
  • A pleasingly Presbyterian bank.

Glasgow's kinda nice

  • All the tourists, 95% of whom don’t understand the concept of accommodating other people who might want to share the road.
  • A café that ain’t taken SHIT. (It’s actually called ‘Bite Me’.)

Glasgow's kinda nice

  • Some Fringe performers walking around in costumes. Along with the usual circus folk, wedding parties, and Elizabethan theatre performers, I also saw a dude in a welding mask and a white button up (that’s it) and a group of people dressed in Second World War-era garb, complete with yellow stars emblazoned with ‘Juden’. Eep.
  • Some other tourist stuff.
Hey, Walter

Hey, Walter, ‘sup?

Some dumb things:

  • I got lost around the EICC (I did this my last trip too – I forgot about elevated, not always accessible cross-streets) and had to cut through the Sheraton’s parking garage.
  • I bought coffee, not realising that the flat doesn’t have a coffee maker or press.
  • I bought bread, not realising that it doesn’t have a toaster either.
  • I used up half of my data plan allowance on the first day. Only 9 to go.
  • I started writing this instead of having a nap.

I’m having a bastard of a time trying to get photos from my SLR to my Chromebook. It’s also shooting blanks, but that is PROBABLY because the SD card in it is from 2008. Whoops. I will get them uploaded when I can. For now, phone photos will have to do.

Oh, and in case you are wondering why I took such a weird route to get here, it’s so I can do a three-day stopover in Reykjavík on the way back. It’s a thing.

Right, now an actual brief nap to power up to walk to the Pleasance for my first festival show. More tomorrow!

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