Journal: Pages 29-30
sex rather quickly (and loudly) as I made this journal entry. (I was glad all
they spoke was Norwegian...)
Qaeda and SARS be damned. The flights I boarded were jam-packed with
holidaymakers from all over the world.
May 2003, Friday: Oslo - BodÝ - Moskenes - Mortsund (Lofoten)
clouds over Britain and southern Scandinavia yielded to blue sky and sunshine to
welcome my return to this beloved region. The warm, tangerine glow of the
firmaments was just as I remembered, persisting in the long twilights of Nordic
up at 04:30 -- the amourous twosome next door did so soon thereafter.
hearty Norwegian smorgasbord breakfast -- with smoked salmon and pickled herring
in abundance -- is truly sublime, especially for someone harboring a deep
penchant for the salty palate of maritime fare. The fact that all that food was
available well before opening hours was also appreciated. It just so happened
that my taxi came just before the appointed hour of 07:00 (when breakfast was
officially served), and the drop-off met the 07:25 train to the airport with no
margin of error.
tips to the taxi drivers might be a bit generous...but I am sure they're used to
thought I double-booked my Oslo-BodÝ flight, cancelled it, and tried to charge
me full price for same-day travel! What outrage! The hassle to claim my
reservation at the ticket office proved to be yet another complication of this
complex itinerary. Everything I've learnt as a traveler -- not the least of
which is to keep my cool before strangers in a strange land -- is put to the
test. The satisfactory outcome may be its own reward, but it's not something I
welcome during holiday.
am reading Yann Martel's Life of Pi, the 2002 Booker Prize winner.
Before her travel companion dozed off, the woman seated to my left kept him occupied with a continuous barrage of banter, right through the flight