I had forgotten to mention in my previous post that it started raining when we were almost back to the volcano car park yesterday. Combine the rain with the wind and it’s as bad as it sounds. I had to fill up the rental car with gas, and Icelandic petrol stations are simple affairs with usually just two pumps and no roof. You’d think in a country with such variable weather, a roof might seem like a good idea, but perhaps they blew away.
We set the alarm for 415am. The sun had risen, but was not visible on account of it still raining since the previous evening. Our flight wasn’t until after 7, but we wanted to give ourselves extra time to drop off the car and deal with any hiccups with our standby listings, especially since extra documentation is needed these days.
The rain was still going hard when we left for the airport. The lone employee at Blue Car Rental gave us a quick, “Car looks good, enjoy your flight!” Even she didn’t want to deal with this rain. While the terminal wasn’t super far from the rental car lot (maybe 500m), the shuttles aren’t running due to covid or something like that, so we had to run against the wind in a downpour until reaching the safety of Keflavik International.
Soaked, cold, but also sweaty, we queued up to check-in. All flights to Europe leave around the same time, so it was busy. As Americans we are still not allowed into most countries in Europe, but certain airports will allow us to transit. I was expecting the ticket agent to ask us to show proof of onward travel, but nothing. We showed our covid test results, handed over our passports, got seats together, and no further questions asked.
We were bound for Frankfurt, having altered our plan to transit in Amsterdam since that flight had been canceled. #cancelculture We nodded off a little bit enroute to Frankfurt, where we expected there to be other hiccups. We had to pass through passport control, but luckily didn’t have to do security again. At this point, we still hadn’t been able to check-in for our Royal Jordanian flight to Amman, but after grabbing some lunch, we found a gate agent who asked for our covid test results, our proof of health insurance, and a QR code that proved we had pre-registered for a covid test in Amman. We were then issued a health declaration form and two seats together. Things had shockingly worked out very smoothly.
With all this sorted, I confirmed a rental car, Nicole got our hotel for tonight, and we booked our remaining hotels in Jordan shortly thereafter. How glamorous is the standby life? We touched down just before 9pm. We were fairly efficient in getting our PCR test, visa, and got through passport control and customs in less than twenty minutes. This is no longer the land of the midnight sun to be sure. Since we knew it would be dark on arrival, we got a hotel that didn’t require much driving.
It was about a twelve minute drive to the Opal Hotel, which has taken its architectural queues from the Las Vegas strip. Our tiny Kia Picante hatchback rolled up, feeling very much out of place against the opulence. We had the underside scanned for bombs nonetheless (though it would have to have been a very small bomb). The staff were very helpful in getting us settled in. By now it was 11pm. In our minds we had built this up to be a high-stress day, but for the most part, things went surprisingly smooth.
passports & pepto bismol 