Your in-flight service today will be nonexistent, and in a language that isn't real. Please enjoy your flight!

Not to be highly offensive, but Iceland? Yeah, no. I knew it was going to be good just about the moment we got on the place to Reykjavik, because there were Icelandic newspapers that you could take. The letters aren't real. Absolutely not. I know this because they use letters that I haven't even used in math classes, and that's right about where I draw the line. On the other hand, they put funny labels that kind of poke fun at Icelandic on all their appliances and such, so maybe they aren't too caught up in the "imperialism of the English language," as the French like to call it (except in French, obviously).

Icelandair also doesn't believe in serving food. If you want it, you buy it. May I suggest sticking to the vegetarian options? I always think I want something with meat, and I ALWAYS regret it. Even on AirFrance. Oh, and for those of you that asked, alcohol is not free on transatlantic flights. Sorry to burst your bubble. However, those Duty-Free shops seem to open earlier than anything else (I might know some girls who may possibly have been weighing that as an option in oh, Reykjavik because real food wasn't open) ...

Going through Customs was required in Iceland because it was my point of entry into the EU. Evidently US and Canadian security does not comply with EU requirements. I think they were trying to imply that the EU is more strict, but I'm not buying it. Reykjavik at 6am is roughly as crowded as Syracuse at peak hours, and it still takes twice as long to get through security in Syracuse. So the EU can bite me.

Purely by chance I ended up sitting in between two other girls roughly my age, that were headed to Paris to do precisely the same thing I am! One is actually stationed in Réunion (near Madagascar), so she's just visiting Paris on her way, but the other is in Bobigny, which isn't too far from Paris (much like my job in Aubervilliers). At least we were all eager to share stories, so the five hour jaunt into Iceland seemed far more painless. Unfortunately, the Iceland airport is less ... lively ... than you might expect around 6am, so we were starving and thirsty and nothing opened until 7am. Oh well, I got to see distant glaciers and volcanoes!

We arrived in Paris sans incident - can't lie, a little part of me was relieved to be on a Boeing 757. I know Airbus is French and all, but I like my planes in the sky, as a general rule. We then waited what felt like hours for the luggage to decide to appear, and hopped on the RER back to Paris, where we all parted ways.

That's when things started to get interesting ...