The adventure of returning home started with waking up at 5:30am.
We piled into the compact car and sped off to the airport for our flight back
to Barcelona with a 4 hour layover. In Barcelona we learned that our flight was
delayed by 4 hours (and it was a different carrier named Arik Air). 8 hours of
down time! Barcelona’s airport isn’t very big or interesting. Thankfully we had
access to the VIP lounge because we’d purchased those premium tickets. We had
soft cushy couches and free food and beverages (well not free). We were content
because we had no idea things were about to change.
We boarded our plane and promptly started playing with all
of the buttons like children. Nothing worked, but it would once the plane took
off. Or maybe not. Thirty minutes into the flight the controls for the seats
suddenly came on to a round of applause from the passengers. It was short
lived. The in-flight TV screens didn’t work. A stewardess came by with an Ipad
for watching movies. It had 4 movies and Joe’s didn’t work at all.
An hour and a half into the flight the captain came on the
speaker and informed us that he was turning around the plane and going back to
Barcelona. We couldn’t go to Oakland. Why? Had there been an earthquake? He
told us he’d be dumping fuel on the way so we could land, which is a creepy
thing to watch.
The natives became restless. Rumours were flying. We landed
back in Barcelona and had a Norwiegen rep tell us that the Oakland airport had
explained to Arik Air that they are a small airport and would be closed by the
time we arrived (recall the four hour delay). Somehow the pilot didn’t know
this upon take-off. And why couldn’t we continue to LA (I’m assuming they have
to use airports they’re contracted with)?
Next came the completely insane process of transporting and
housing hundreds of people for the night. Not to mention the problem of getting
a flight time for the plane to leave the next day. We, meaning all of us except
the few smart ones who grabbed a taxi, trudged to the other end of the airport
to find our assigned bus. We climbed on board and watched each bus take off,
but not ours. Tempers were flaring (mine) after an hour sitting on a half full
bus. Multiple people had gone outside to politely ask when we were leaving. I
suddenly got up and marched to the front of the bus and got out to talk to the
poor kid who was managing this disaster. I asked him how much longer and he
gave me the wrong answer. I responded with maturity, “It’s two in the morning.
We’re dying here!” He looked taken aback at this sudden attack from a
Mom-person. When I got back on the bus, I was greeted with laughter and
everyone wanting to know what I’d said. Apparently I could be clearly seen
throwing my arms up in the air by the entire bus through the front window. The
Schussman temper sadly on display. Izzy confided in me that I’m terrifying J
We were bused to a
lovely little hotel called Las Balmes. I highly recommend it for their
hospitality (especially the two startled guys at the front desk). We were led
to our rooms at 3:30 in the morning. This was the most comfortable bed on our
entire trip, or I was exhausted.
The next day we got a taxi back to the airport after
confirming with the hotel manager that
Norwegian Air did a great job of taking care of our costs up
front. We weren’t expected to keep receipts for reimbursements later. We had
meal vouchers, the transportation was covered, and the rooms were reserved and
paid for. As we flew over Sweden, I was struck by the vast openness of the
forested land. They sent us to the Quality Inn. I was pleased because I knew
what to expect… large rooms with two queen size beds, or maybe one bed, but
we’d ask for one room with two beds (I’m so American). We didn’t want to be
separated from Izzy. The lady said yes, the rooms had two beds. I asked if the
beds were big. She shook her head and said no, but she’d put us in a larger
room. So sweet.
Then a group of guys in the bar next to reception, one of
whom was drunk, noticed us. As most of you know Joe always wears a cowboy hat
when we travel. The drunk guy says, “Hey cowboy!” Really loud and slurred.
After the third time I turned my “mom” glare on him. When I’m tired, hungry,
and things aren’t going as planned, I have no patience for those kind of
shenanigans! All I needed was for them to pick a fight with Joe. That would’ve
been an unwise move on their part. The guy surprisingly spun around and didn’t
say another word. Izzy told me again that I’m terrifying.
When we got there we had to eat quickly before the
restaurant closed. Our vouchers got us an amazing plate of Carbonara and a
glass of Chianti. We laughed at the irony of being in Sweden and eating one of
the best plates of Italian food we’d had with an excellent glass of wine. Then
we went up to our rooms and entered an Ikea display. It was thee smallest hotel
room I’d ever seen! Ever. It had two skinny little cot-sized beds snuggled up
side-by-side. Fortunately it had Murphy bunk beds. Izzy jumped up on the top
one like an eight year old. The bathroom had a giant porthole into the room
like on a ship. That way if you had to use the toilet at night the whole room
would light up! Really?... whose idea was that? I stuffed a pillow into it.
It was almost midnight and still light out like in Alaska. I
peeked out the window again at two in the morning and it was still twilight. Breakfast
was in a spacious dining room, which was odd to me after seeing the bedrooms.
Back to the airport. We’d gone by a jumbo jet out in a field the night before.
Today I could see café tables and chairs on the wing. What the heck? I googled
it and it’s called Jumbo Hostel. It has 27 rooms… the suite is in the cockpit.
Now that’s recycling.
What a nice airport! The food is amazing here. We finally
boarded the plane three days later and are still thanking our lucky stars that
we got Premium on the way home from Stockholm. Izzy is sipping her last cup of
wine as we fly over Greenland. Why do they call it Greenland?
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