Airport Refugees

Traveling to Europe is quite an adventure. At airports, one must wade through long lines of people, dodging luggage obstacle courses while making it to distant gates before final calls. At the gurgle of a stomach, one must satisfy the appetite with room temperature coffee and minuscule sandwiches smothered in convenience—both of these items toting prices that are not so convenient. Of course, when one gets on the plane and tries to escape into a dreamworld, angry babies begin to disturb the air with their tantrums, ensuring that sleep is prevented with strategically placed cries. Overall, these things and more make up the conceptual heap that most battered survivors call jet lag—a mental and physical state that no passport can get one through.

Late Tuesday evening, Andrew and I escaped the Oslo airport as jet lagged refugees. After doing a couple laps around the airport, showing the local population that we were tourists, Andrew and I took the express train from the Oslo airport to Central Station. There, we waited several hours for a bus to Stockholm with no avail; all of the buses were full. Getting hungry while time was getting away, Andrew and I decided to spend the night in Oslo, moving the Stockholm detour to another day. We ate at a small establishment situated off the main strip—“Smacks.” It was a hole-in-the-wall type place that served steak pizzas and kebabs. The paint of the place was extreme-orange and the menu was repetitive in content--kebab this and that. Neverthless, the prices were not too bad and the food was tasty.

As long as we stick to our budget, and manage our food intake, I think Andrew and I will make it. Moreover, sleep will heal the wounds of jet lag. So far, this trip has definitely been interesting (and we've only been in Norway for less than a day).