My arrival to Iceland started as any casual trip to a foreign land. While walking around the YVR airport, I could hear in the distance a soft beat. One the young generation call a dubstep. My curiosity and my gate number led me closer and closer to the “dee-dee-dee-dee-dummmming”.
As I turned the corner, a massive crowd of eager travelers surrounded my gate. Tables of Icelandic meat sandwiches, and bowls of their coined “Blue Lagoon” fruit punch were displayed on my left. On my right, there was the entrance to my gate. And just before it, stood a tall Icelandic DJ with overly white teeth in between two strobe lights, appearing to be mixing some beats. At this moment, I was unsure why there was such a celebration occurring for my flight. But I concluded that in order to get on my plane, I had to walk by him. The thought of this made me extremely uncomfortable as his smile was shiny and forced, while his strobe lights were violently blinding my fellow travelers at four in the afternoon .
Anyways, the moment of uncertainty continued when I boarded the plane, found my seat, and said my hello’s to the couple sitting beside me. Just as we were departing, the flight attendant comes on the speaker and said “Welcome to Vancouver’s first flight to Reykjavik, Iceland”. That announcement then proceeded with the popping of champagne bottles. This is 2014, and this is the first flight to Iceland. I took the news with sadness, as I foresaw my later years using the phrase “I was on the first flight to Iceland..”. I used to gawk at my parents when they would say “We were the first kids on our block with color tv”. And now, now I join them. Anyways, I drank the champagne. When we landed, I noticed that there was no ice in Iceland. however, my thoughts were disrupted when the pilot did celebratory donuts with the plane, as I sat facing the window, puking.
Then I got off the plane, and noticed that all the workers at the Airport transport themselves via scooter. Manual scooter, the ones that you push with your feet. Scooters.
