This morning, before class, I looked up how to say “I’m a nervous flier” in Hungarian. Has more to do with class than the trip to Oslo I’m to undertake in a couple hours, but it’s ‘ideges repülő vagyok.’ I’m not sure I’m not calling myself a pilot there. “Egy ideges utas a repülőgépen.” I’m a nervous person on the plane, or something close to that, I think.

When the plane that isn’t actually here yet lands tomorrow morning, I’ll be in Oslo for the two days of Desertfest Oslo 2026. Starts Friday afternoon, runs through Saturday and I’m out Sunday. Quick trip, but that’s what it needs to be so that’s what it is. On the app it looks like a full flight, which sucks because I often have an open seat next to me on this trip. Not this time, apparently.

Glad (?) to report that the ass-end of Terminal B at Newark Airport hasn’t changed its squalorous vibes since last I was in it. The carpet, ’00s industrial. The lighting, a shade of dull one might call ‘Walmart sad.’ You are a chicken being loaded on a truck to slaughter or otherwise you’d already be in one of the lounges. I hear the SAS lounge comes with free healthcare.

Security was dirt-easy, though. I didn’t have to take my shoes off, or take my laptop out of my bag. They found a water bottle I didn’t know was in the back of my camera bag, but it was empty so I didn’t even need to throw it out. I think it had more to do with the hours I’m traveling than anything else, but I’ll take it however it comes. I’ve waited an hour and a half on that line before. In summer.

My flight takes off in three hours, which gives me plenty of time to sit and wax poetic about that smell, or the copious advertainment on the tvs, or the warning on repeat that it’s your fault if you get into a fake Uber and get raped or murdered. This is America. We take care of ourselves. Except we don’t. And also nobody else does it either. So we die.

You can see the Desertfest schedule above, and golly it’s nice to look at. The only snag is that last year, Revolver was super-difficult to get into because it’s teeny-tiny and a basement under the bar proper, adjacent to the outside stage. That’s going to make 16 a challenge tomorrow night, let alone Bottenhavet or MR.BISON on Saturday. Nebula outside will be legendary, and thus probably packed out into the alley that runs between the streets on either side of the venue. John Dee and Rockefeller had photo pits last year, and so that was doable. Fingers crossed for no changes there.

I think this will be my sixth time in Norway, which means I know to turn right when I get out of international arrivals and get an espresso as I make my way over to the train into town. Before that, of course, I need to get through the unpleasantness of the flight. I have never enjoyed flying, or any part of the process of commercial air travel, but I do these things because — contrary to what the new agers said — it’s not the journey, it’s the destination. I am excited for what this weekend will bring, will be glad to see friends and hear and see killer performances.

If you’re going to be in town, please say hi. I’m awkward as shit if you couldn’t tell, so heads up on that, but it’s nice to talk to people anyhow. And at this point a lot of my with-friends socializing happens at these things, so my impulse is to make the most of it. Anybody wanna grab a cup of coffee?

Alright. On that note of what might possibly be perceived as vulnerability, I’m cutting myself off. I need to find water before boarding starts and, well, that’s only two and a half hours from now, barring delay. In truth, I’m gonna sit for a while, charge my phone, and veg out as much as my anxiousness to get this flight over with will allow.

I’ll be posting over the weekend (no posts next Monday), and thanks if you keep up with the fest coverage at all.

Tags: Desertfest Oslo, Desertfest Oslo 2026, Desertfest Oslo 2026 Coverage, Norway, Oslo

This entry was posted on Thursday, May 7th, 2026 at 2:43 pm and is filed under Features. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.