Traveling with a Busload of Torons.
I’m beginning to lose my positive attitude, as I write this under a wet coat, wet shoes, and soggy under armor. I’ll start today by saying, “EUROPE (yes, I’m talking to you) GET WITH THE PROGRAM!” First, as I’m in drying my hat and gloves with the hotel’s 2 watt hair dryer, I’m certain that Conaire has made a model of blow dryer unlike this one that has a constant on and off switch, since the blow dried hair of the 70s. Instead, I’ll get carpal tunnel, as I spend the next hour needing to depress the on switch, while drying my stuff. The showers here use the geothermal water to have hot water; which emits a sulfuric smell. Nothing like an entire country’s population smelling like a bag of farts. On to the thread count of their sheets here, of which their scratchy texture could be used to sand the roads here. Of course, the beds are twins with no top sheet and certainly no condom sheet that covers the nasty blanket. Attention Europe, when Americans want an immersive travel experience, we don’t mean assimilating with your dead skin cells and hairs (I keep telling myself that the last person who slept here was a Brazilian with alopecia.). I get the whole thing with the different electrical adapters, but can there be more than one socket and more than a 40 watt bulb available to challenge the 19-hours of abject darkness! I curse the darkness with radio shack adapter! I also wonder what’s the obsession with serving baked beans and cold cuts that are a step up from head cheese at every hotel breakfast. I should return with a Taylor Pork Roll and cheese and conquer Europe one delicious breakfast sandwich at a time. As our outing to geysers, waterfalls, and earthquake fissures were used as film sets to Game of Thrones, I was reminded of another European “nicety” in them charging for public bathrooms. You haven’t lived until you’re wet, cold, hours on a bus needing to ensure that you have the right number of Icelandic Krona coins in the right denominations to have your “exchange rate” in the ladies room. The whole ordeal is an evil Game of Thrones (equipped with environmentally sound flushing apparatus). As you can imagine, tonight’s Northern Lights viewing has been cancelled much like all flights from the Reykjavík airport due to a mechanic’s strike. As I opened with, my optimism is fading….
Rubber Chicken 