The Trip Home

Chapter 30 of Search For a Dancer, a memoir of a week spent in Iceland in November 2022

When I got to the BSÍ terminal only a few people were waiting for the Flybus ride back to the airport. It was about 11:30 A.M.:

After waiting for about half an hour a bus pulled up and various vacationing vagabonds verily converged for the trip to Keflavík:

Goodbye lava, sea and Snæfellsness:

And then: there I was with luggage at the airport but minus my Speedo (which I had left drying on a rack in my apartment):

A saw my dopplegänger, who seemed to be pondering the mysteries of airport logistics:

I stopped for a bite:

After lunch I went to the gate area where exchanged travel stories with this white-bearded fellow traveler on his way back from Norway (or was it from The North Pole?) :

On the plane I chatted with with a woman (for the whole flight!) from North Dakota. She said that she had had and gotten over Covid. Later on, I would have doubts about her complete recovery.

And then I was home.


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