The Reykjavik Airport is too small for all the visitors.
We waited in lines for buses to take us to
planes parked far away on the runways
and climbed up the steps to board the plane in
the cold rain.
We were quite a mob.
It was like an old Greyhound Station as we shuffled through the waiting hall--old women refugees with head scarves with their husbands,
families with strollers and crying babies, travelling students with torn jeans and I pads,
elders in wheelchairs,
and some tourists with cameras and selfie sticks. All just wanting to get home.
It was like an old Greyhound Station as we shuffled through the waiting hall--old women refugees with head scarves with their husbands,
families with strollers and crying babies, travelling students with torn jeans and I pads,
elders in wheelchairs,
and some tourists with cameras and selfie sticks. All just wanting to get home.
But, the view from the air home is
spectacular.
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