Going, Coming Home, 1979

(August 23 to November 29)

This year there was a special deal for a flight with Icelandic Airlines from Chicago to Luxembourg, with a refueling stop in Reykjavik, Iceland. We flew to Chicago, visited with family and friends in the Midwest, then arrived at the airport in Chicago to find that for the second time, our plane to Europe was going to leave one day late. The airline supplied a room at the Hotel Howard Johnson near the airport.

The next morning the plane still was not flying, so we were loaded on another flight to Detroit, where finally we boarded another plane and off we went. We got off the plane for an hour and browsed in the Reykjavik airport shops, during refueling, then on to Europe. The Evergreen Airlines Boeing 707 was rather old, and in need of renovation, but we made it the whole way to the Luxembourg Airport with no problem. Daughter Linda (who had been visiting cousins in Mettlach), and a couple of Emmy’s Cousins, met us at the airport.

===========

Along with this round trip flight, they offered a special stop-over in Reykjavik for two nights, at a very low price (bus rides, hotel room, and several meals included), so we planned to take advantage of that on our return.

When we got to the Luxembourg Airport for our flight home, they checked us carefully, we identified our luggage and they made sure we placed it in the containers. If we packed a bomb, we rode the plane. But then they put us on the plane to New York City. No problem, both flights were to stop in Reykjavik, so we waited until the Chicago flight with our baggage arrived in Iceland, but we wondered about the security. Did anyone notice we weren’t on the plane with our luggage?

During the flight to Chicago, the young son of the Icelandic Airlines pilot, kept going in and out of the cockpit area. When he did it while we were landing in Chicago, we complained, but they said the pilot is in charge, and can do whatever he wants.

In Chicago, after our luggage arrived we asked for a Red Cap’s help, gave him a tip, and he took our luggage past the officer at the customs counter. Don’t know why, but they didn’t bother to look at a thing in any of our many suitcases and carry-on bags. Maybe the big tip helped, maybe they knew the Red Cap, or just maybe they split the tip. Then home to California.