Chaos in the Calm — Yurt Life in Norway
Leaving Ireland felt like being cast as a member on Alone. The training wheels were off, and it was just the two of us.
I’m famously stubborn when it comes to luggage. Unless absolutely necessary, I refuse to pay for a checked-in bag. This character flaw (or strength?) is truly tested in Europe, where they’ve started charging for anything that doesn’t fit below the seat. Eventually, I caved (slightly) — four weeks in unpredictable weather couldn’t fit “under the seat in front of you.” I bought one 10kg bag that was allowed in the overhead compartment, selfishly squishing Méabh’s clothes into a small backpack. At this point, it’s become a game between the airline and me — just how far will she go to not pay the extras? At home, I always win, but on this flight, I was forced to buy a $5 protein ball for the hungry hippo sitting next to me.
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