Ultra fine drizzle spits on my face, it is 6.14am and my raingear is safely stowed away. Goosebumps on my arms waiting for my bus. As always i am early but at this time in the morning i anticipate my bus will be early not late. I think the rain will be fine.
6.30 and i start to panic. 6.35 and i put out my thumb. I will stand just before the bus stop and count to ten cars before i really panic. Hitching and counting takes my mind off the time and my anxiety. Two. It is the national day of the year today. Perhaps the bus will not run. Four. It has to run there will be an incoming flight to greet. I realise that this is not so, my flight is the first in or out of the airport today.
I try to decide at what time i will go knock up marit to get a lift. Five. I wonder about just taking her car, the keys will be inside, i can dump it at the airport and her son can take her later to collect it. Six. The bus is fifteen minutes late and i no longer notice the fine moisture on my arms.
Bingo. A black guy winds down the window, an oriental guy is driving. I usually just get in but today i need to confirm that they will take me to the airport, just five miles down the road. I dont want to leave the bus stop. Not yet. The black guy consults the oriental who is speaking on his phone. He nods ascent and i am in. They have just finished working at the Torshavn festival, home to bed. They passed the bus about five minutes ago, i laugh at myself for being over anxious as always.
7.30 and i am phone checked it, self scanned baggage and waved through security. As yet i have not spoken to a person, nor shown my passport, all self service automatic. only a machine has checked my boarding pass but hasnt asked for passport. The fine drizzle is, of course fog. Not being able to take off hadnt occurred to me before but now it does.
