Day 122--124 ~ There's no place like home...

May 11, 2022

Cloudy, spitting something from the sky in Bergen, the last time we'll be outside until St. Louis

“The magic thing about home is that it feels good to leave, and it feels even better to come back.”

~ Anonymous

The Bergen sail-in...Charming, isn't it? In the Med, the primary building material is granite or the ubiquitous yellow limestone. In Saudi, sea coral formed the underpinnings of their traditional houses. In Norway, even though many fires have razed entire cities, the country is so heavily wooded, lumber is the main building material.

Our alarm went off at 5:30AM and we slid into Bergen as we ate our last room service breakfast. We had to collect our bags and be out of the ship by 7:00AM so we could catch the Viking transfer to the airport. It took about 40 minutes to get to there. Our check-in went smoothly. We waved goodbye to our four checked bags and were wheels up, bound for Copenhagen by 10AM.

It's a relatively short hop from Bergen to Denmark (First time I've ever been there, but to be fair, I only saw the airport. Should that even count?) Because Viking is sending us home in Business Class, we had access to SAS's VIP lounge. It was nice and quiet with comfortable chairs, USB ports and plenty of electrical outlets so I could charge up Herkimer. However, even though we had a four hour lay-over, we almost spent too much time there. We forgot there might be a customs line for us to make it through. Fortunately, once an agent saw my O2 canula, we were spirited to the short line and were soon on our way.

Our seats on the flight from Bergen to Copenhagen were sort of glorified Premium Economy, but for our 9 hour hop to Chicago, we enjoyed these lovely pods with seats that lay down flat and a little bubbly before take-off! There was even a gentle massage setting for my back.

I'm not good at sleeping on planes, but I made a good effort. Though we had a 2 hour layover in Chicago, I knew I'd need to grab some zzz's now. 

O'Hare is horrible to make connections in at the best of times. Just for fun, when you come in from an international flight, you have to pick up your checked bags and then carry them over to another conveyor belt in the hopes that they make your connecting flight as well. After that, we trudged along with the other new arrivals toward the US Customs queues, doubling back in the hallway so the line could be stretched out longer. When we finally turned the corner from the hall, we entered a room the size of two high school gymnasiums, absolutely crammed to the brim with travelers, serpentining around as if they were waiting for the most popular ride in Disney Land, inching toward the few ICE agents protected by plexiglass cubicles along the far wall. 

Once again, my lung condition rescued us. My canula must stand out like a silent cry for help because I'm almost always pulled out of the queue so I won't have to walk the couple of miles with the milling scrum of other travelers.  

I sometimes feel guilty when I use the handicapped spots or get bumped up in line. But if I could, I'd trade standing in line and parking in the boonies for a pair of healthy lungs in a skinny minute.

You know you're flying through the Midwest when the sky is more interesting that the ground.

We made our connecting flight, but one of our bags did not. Fortunately, we hadn't planned to drive home and called our hotel to send the shuttle for us.

These are the times that try men's souls...and make them wish their wives knew the meaning of "traveling light."

  

Sleeping like the dead doesn't apply here. Yes, we were happy to stop moving. And the hotel bed was more than welcome, but it wasn't our bed, which had been singing us a siren song for the better part of a week. The next morning we shuttled back to Lambert (St. Louis' airport) and collected our missing bag when the first plane from Chicago landed. Then we rented a one-way vehicle and it was time to drive the 4 1/2 hours home. 

We missed the dogwoods, but the azaleas were in bloom to welcome us. 

 It was wonderful to see our family again--our daughters & daughter-in-law, my parents, my niece and her family (including my newborn great-niece Carlie), and our two little dogs, Charlie and Albert. (And when I say little, I mean tiny. There's not 20 lbs worth of dog between the two of them. Charlie had lost quite a bit of weight while we were gone. Pining for us, I suspect. But to be fair, it's a good thing. He has a nice healthy tuck-up now instead of a jelly-belly!)

Our travels weren't quite done yet. On Friday the 13th, we had to return our rental car to Springfield, MO (about 100 miles west of us) because that's the closest place for us to return our rental. My parents drove over behind us so we'd have a ride home after we took them to lunch!

So we'd been gone for four months. To use a little writer parlance, it felt like we'd been the protagonists of a novel, leaving our "Ordinary Life," and joining the company of the Viking Star in the "Special World" of our adventure. Since the 2022 Viking World Cruise itinerary was a total surprise sprung on us the day before we boarded, we'd seen and done things we'd never dreamed of, things we never realized we wanted until they were presented to us in grand Viking style. It was a feast for all the senses. There were ups and downs, like in any story worthy of the name. And challenges and delightful experiences we'll never forget. 

But at the end of every "Hero's Journey," the protagonist comes home--hopefully wiser, bearing new stories,  grateful for the time away but even more thankful to be returning home.