Cathy and Steve are ‘on the road again.’ We are taking a cruise – in two segments – from Reykjavik, Iceland. It will last thirty-two days, ending on September 17th. Above is a map of the first segment that begins in Reykjavik and ends in Oslo. We came two days early to get an introduction to Reykjavik, the capital, and take the Golden Circle tour, the country’s most popular.
Our adventure requires a 2,000-mile flight from New York to Iceland. By the way, this post contains little information and was written as for recollection purposes for us. If you find it tedious, we understand why you might not read the whole thing. But we hope you’ll want to join in the journey itself, which begins on the 15th of August:
We dread red-eye flights because the ones we have taken – all eastbound – leave us deliriously exhausted. To make matters worse, besides arriving ossified and in desperate need of sleep, we invariably arrive hours before we can check in to our hotel room. But these are the ways most transatlantic international flights are set up, so we are prepared to deal with it.
We leave Wallingford at 5:45pm for a flight that departs New York’s JFK Airport at 11:15pm. The airlines strongly recommend arrival at the airport for an international flight three hours before scheduled departure. Being the “depot sitters” that we are, we aimed to be there at 8:15pm.
Around 4:00pm, Cathy made the mistake of checking the traffic situation. Both I-95 and the Merritt Parkway were jammed. She called the limo service and asked if they could arrive any earlier that their prearranged 6:15. The driver was enroute from New York and said that the best he could do was 5:45. And he shows up right at that very time.
A nice Cadillac Escalade with a very friendly driver. We’re on the road within five minutes. Thankfully, the bottleneck on I-95 has disappeared, so he leaves the Merritt at Norwalk, takes Route 7 to I-95, and we arrive at the airport almost exactly when he said we would. Because we had told them the flight number, he had an app that told him which terminal to go to. The airline is Delta, and they fly out of three different terminals at JFK. He learns that terminal 4 was our destination.
Check-in is very efficient. Plenty of folks who ask what our destination is and route us to the right line. A wise move on Delta’s part, because one line is only for domestic and another is international. We are all checked by 8:40. Next stop is TSA.
TSA can be a zoo, but it is surprisingly well staffed … even though they had closed Pre-check at 7:30pm, so we end up with probably 100 other travelers from all over the planet in a long, long cattle pen type of line. But, again most surprisingly, it moves very quickly. Yes, we had to take off our shoes and yes, take out laptops and Kindles for placement in several bins.
Cathy is ahead of Steve, and, trying to be helpful, tells a TSA security guy that Steve will kick off an alarm because of his knee replacement hardware. Turns out, that is a mistake. They take Steve aside and give him five full minutes of scrutiny, putting him through every possible test they have – a veritable security proctology exam. They even test his hands for gunpowder residue. Lesson for the future: say absolutely nothing to a TSA agent out of the ordinary. They will invariably consider you suspicious and pull you aside for their special treatment.
Fortunately, we have tons of time, and decide to eat at the Palms Grill. Typical airport restaurant. Very limited menu, sky-high prices and fast, fast service. Great set for people-watching, because JFK is the crossroads of the world. We both want to prepare ourselves to be as able to sleep on the plane as possible. Steve’s method is wine consumption, and he has a couple of 8-ounce glasses. The food is decent and served immediately.
We get to Gate B22 an hour before departure along with everyone else. As we wait, it comes time for Stage 2 of our sleep preparations – Xanax. Cathy makes friends with all the people around her, and we even meet a person named Kay who is taking our cruise!
The boarding process is easy. We are in zone Comf+ because we opted for Special Comfort seating – better that coach but way below first class – and we board our Boeing 767-300 early. Row 16, Seats F and G. No middle seat – another perk of Comfort Seating. By now, we are as ready as we’ll ever be to attempt sleep.
For the next four hours, we sleep: Cathy soundly, Steve fitfully. Our substance preparations serve us well. We arrive a few minutes early in Iceland, disembark and process though customs very easily and head for baggage claim. We have no idea why, but retrieving our two bags takes almost half an hour. So be it.
We leave the terminal with no idea how to get to the city of Reykjavik. We wander outside, see a line of cabs and head for it. Up pulls one driven by a very attractive blonde woman, and she bids us to hop in. It’s about a 40-mile drive to our hotel. Road is in excellent condition, flat and peppered with very efficient roundabouts. Geology is interesting; obviously was formed by volcanic fissures many eons ago.
Close to town, we pass some enormous, long industrial buildings that look new. Steve asks what they are. We are told that they are to manufacture aluminum. There are now three companies in Iceland that produce aluminum, located there specifically because of the large amounts of electric power needed to turn bauxite ore into aluminum ingots. There is no aluminum ore, just very, very cheap geothermal and hydro power.
We arrive at the Hotel Reykjavik Grand right around 11:00am and pay for our very expensive cab ride, our first experience with what we have been warned are very high prices for everything. We shrug that off. We check in and, as we feared, rooms will not be ready until 2-3pm. By coincidence, this hotel is the launch pad for our Oceania cruise for many people. There are many people lounging in the reception area, all as out of it as we are, waiting or dozing or just staring into space. Steve goes over to the Oceania desk to inquire. Finds out that this is a special group set up by the travel website GONext, meaning we are not eligible for anything offered. He asks if we can be included in the bus ride to the ship, and the very nice and polite young lady relents and adds our name to the list of those who will be bussed Tuesday at either 11 or 11:30am.
Our hotel is new and not near the center to the city, so the hotel restaurant is pretty much our only option. We have lunch around noon and pleasantly discover that the food is excellent and the service efficient. The place is busy with Oceania guests and those from another cruise line, Silverseas. Not all Americans, by any means. Many Europeans and even some folks from Asia.
Back to the reception area to continue our vigil. At 2pm, we overhear an overbearing Silverseas couple raising a stink with hotel reception staff about their room not being ready. We watch as they are led to the registration desk, are checked in, and led to the elevator. Hmmm. Seems that whining and complaining is paying off, so Cathy heads to registration – not to complain, but to politely inquire if, possibly, our accommodations are ready.
They are! Our amazing travel agent Judi Gallagher got us room 146, just six steps up from the reception area. We struggle with hauling our heavy suitcases (we will, after all, be traveling for 35 days) up those six stairs and enter our room, ecstatic that we can collapse on our bed and try to recover. The next four hours, we do just that.
A cocktail in the reception area around 6:00pm, then on to the restaurant. It is packed to the rafters, and understaffed. We order wine to start with and review the menu. There is a buffet – a fabulous one, we are to learn – and a regular menu. We opt for the regular menu in order to dive into the fish dishes that Iceland is known for.
No regrets whatsoever on the food we ordered, but the understaffing became an issue. There must have been all of three waitpersons to handle 15 tables, six of which seated six. Cathy ordered a first course, which came quickly. It took maybe ten minutes to consume. But clearing the plate didn’t happen for the next twenty-five minutes. Steve finally went and asked our overextended but invariably polite server whatever happened to our entrees.
In three minutes, they came, with a plausible explanation: if an appetizer is ordered, entre orders are not submitted until the appetizer plate is cleared. Because that plate was not cleared, the entrees never were prepared. Certainly a glitch is their system when there is an inadequate number of staff and tables are not bussed on a timely basis. She apologized profusely, served us another glass of wine on the house, and all was forgotten. Of course, the food was delicious.
We finished the meal, paid and left. We were set to have a nightcap at the bar in the reception area, but after a five-minute wait, and an observation that that bartender was now serving meals at a table set up in the reception area (another example of the shortage of help to handle all these guests) told us to forget it.
Back to our room and the day ended. It was a l-o-n-g, long day, and the only stumble was the shortage of staff at the hotel, something that apparently is a problem everywhere. Those Icelanders that we met could not have been nicer, despite their being overburdened. It bodes well for our visit to this unusual part of the world.
