We made it to Trondheim, safe and sound, it is a beautiful area and we had such a lovely evening with our family friend’s family. But our travel wasn’t without issue.
This morning Liz and I had a decidedly “Home Alone” experience. We thought we had allotted enough time to make it to the airport but we didn’t anticipate (slash plan ahead really) that the train to the airport wouldn’t be leaving right when we arrived. So we got to the Oslo airport at 10:30 for a 10:55 flight. Thankfully we were already checked in, so we only had to sprint up three escalators and across a couple of marble floors to make it to the security check-point. (Where I had a Griswaldian moment—I try to be prepared for all events—and had forgotten to remove my Swiss army knife from my little Longchamp. Luckily it went unnoticed.) When we skidded into the security line we began removing our shoes and jackets, computers from cases, watches and the like to move through the security line. Made it through and then booked it to our gate.
I felt like that scene in “Home Alone” when the McCallister family is sprinting through the O’Hare airport trying to make their flight to Paris.
We made it to the gate and as we boarded we saw a clock, 10:37. Seven minutes from train to plane.
And, like the McCallisters, I also left something at home: my camera.