I'm writing from gate C6 at Amsterdam's Schiphol airport. It's 11:30ish in the morning here, and I'm waiting patiently to board the plane that will whisk me off to Oslo, where it's apparently quite cold and salted meats are the norm. So far, the trip has been uneventful, and in fact, even touched by a bit of good luck: While I was originally slated to spend 11 grueling hours in a middle seat, I managed to get myself moved into an aisle when I checked in at SFO...and then some folks asked me if I'd switch seats so they could travel together, and my generosity was rewarded by the fates quite handsomely, since the seat next to me ended up the only empty one on an otherwise completely full plane. I confess that I was pretty sure the people around me were sending unhappy thoughts my way for a bit, but I can't blame them, I'd have done the very same from my middle seat. So, while I still didn't enjoy the most restful 10 hours--coach seats are coach seats, even when you have two of them, and there's no way to adequately set yourself up for some long-lasting shut-eye--I did manage to get some sleep, so I'm only like a class 2 zombie right now instead of a full-fledged Romero-esque nightmare.
More to come when I arrive in Oslo. I stupidly remembered my camera but not the USB cable to connect it to my PC, so photos might have to wait until I return to the states, but I'll happily provide sparkling descriptions of whatever I see. And eat, of course.
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