Iceland Lessons Learned (And Not Learned)

Sulfur | OCDs | NASA Recruiting

I'm not sure if it's the tourist or the locals, or both, but Iceland is the ancestral home of the cargo pant.  I'm not saying they reach of a one-to-one ratio with jeans, but it's closer than I've witnessed anywhere else.  The streets of Reykjavik are pretty much a non-stop outdoor wear add.  People walk by in North Face, Columbia, 66 North, and Cintamani jackets (the last two are Iceland made outdoor wear brands). 

One hallmark of being in Iceland is turning on hot water and getting a whiff of sulfur.  It doesn't happen everywhere, but if it does you can be sure that the building your in is fed hot water form a geothermal source.

Restaurants.  There are two cultural things to know about restaurants in Iceland.  One, water will be provided one of two ways.  There will either be glasses located on a central table with a communal water jug.  You are expected to help your self.  This is common in cafes.  The other common way water is provided is a carafe of water on your table so you can help yourself.  I am quite fond of the carafe method being I consume a lot of water while eating and this relieves the waiter/waitress from keeping up with me.   Two, you are pretty much expected to find the register and pay there.  We've only had one check brought to our table while eating in Iceland.

Another hallmark of Iceland that I shall not miss is the doors.  Door are routed here on three or four sides so that they can lay on top of the door frame.  The result is when the door is closed it protrudes out form the frame about half an inch.  As someone who is used to doors laying flush with the door frame this weirds me out and sets off all sorts of OCD alarms.  I find it very disconcerting.  I wonder if it's a design feature left over from before modern weather stripping.

Iceland had a weird prohibition.  You'll read about bits and pieces of it and they won't make any damn sense. You'll eventually figure out that they had a short American-style prohibition.  Then for some reason wine and spirits were OK but beer wasn't.  Beer wasn't OK until 1989!  The Wikipedia page for Icelandic Prohibition gives some historical reasons for the weirdness.  This pamphlet I found in a cafe is also illuminating.

(Clicky to make larger)

Speaking of that pamphlet, it also had this great advertisement for a night-club in Reykjavik called Nasa.  Dawn and I never visited it.  If we ever figure out what our space program is doing and need to start hiring young engineers, I think NASA could just use this ad and their college recruiting would be taken care of.

That page also has fun facts about Iceland's national liquor, which is caraway schnapps.  Here's the thing that confuses me.  If they put the skull and crossbones label on Brennivin in 1915 during prohibition, why were they selling the stuff?  Seems like the skull and crossbones rules out medicinal purposes.  I wonder if this all boils down to a case of "I don't think that word means what you think it means."

Actual Vacation Time

For our last day, we had nothing planned. A rare luxury for us to indulge in. We started off with a visit to an excellent bakery down the street from our hotel followed by a stroll along the waterfront. We also managed to wander out of the touristy part of downtown Reykjavik and into some of the adjacent neighborhoods. This is a playground at an elementary school.

We snacked on hotdogs one last time and tried a self proclaimed "best" fish & chips. It was good, but Lafayette Brewing Company continues to hold the title. Strange considering it's distance from any ocean.

We also strolled through quite a lot of shops with relatively few purchases. I get a new purse and pick up this masterfully packaged tour book/zombie novel:

We spent a long time enjoying a little coffee shop and discussing what we had done and what we wanted to do next time we're here. And if that should be summer or winter. We picked a place slightly off of the main drag called DOMO for dinner. The service was great, as was the atmosphere. The butter was amazing on the slightly warm bread and the sauce on the goose appetizer we split was refreshingly tart. I had horse again and it was really tasty.

I may need another week to recover from this vacation. It's been a lot of fun, but also exhausting.

The Mammal of the Sea

Sleep | Coffee | Whale.

Our last full day in Iceland.  We sleep in.  After rising we decide to try a local bakery in lieu of the breakfast the hotel provides.  We are not disappointed with the outcome of our decision.

The majority of the afternoon is spent wondering Reykjavik shopping.  It's amazing that a town the same size as the one I live in can support such a diverse and metropolitan ecosystem.  I suppose the constant flow of tourist doesn't hurt.

For dinner we select a restaurant called Domo.  It's advertised as a restaurant "without borders."  We try to go there early in the evening and are told that they don't open until 7:30 pm.  Reykjavik nightlife doesn't getting going on the weekends until later.  We vow to return at 7:30 and need to kill an hour and a half.  Fortunately we find a cafe.  The perfect cafe.  Not too crowded, not to empty.  A respectable wooden floor that looks to be generations old and a good sound track playing.  We start by ordering coffee.  Iceland loves its coffee, who are we to argue.  The thing about most cafes in Reykjavik is they transform as the day goes on.  Waffles and coffee in the morning.  Waffles, coffee and beer in the afternoon.  By evening they're basically a bar.  We visit during the sweet spot when the cafe is turning into a bar.  I feel obliged to order a local beer while Dawn samples an Icelandic herbal tea.  Both are chalked up as "interesting experiences."

We return to Domo.  Dawn orders horse, because no mammal is safe no matter how domesticated.  I am perplexed and seek advice from the waiter.  He immediately suggests the whale steak.  I gladly take his suggestion.  Know this, the whale is a gentle and tender animal.  Best served with a light sauce and side of potatoes.  I am not disappointed.. 

On the Rocks

Today started with a two hour guided ride on Icelandic horses. Bill has never been on a horse and I've only sort of ever been on one. And that one was a retired race horse who didn't want to be retired. I ended up with an 18 year old named Bessti. Bill assures me that horse names have significance so obviously he was the best horse. And he new what he was doing so I could spend my time taking pictures instead of worrying about falling off or keeping up with everyone.

Towards the end of the tour, during one of the faster bits, he let the horse ahead of us get kind of far ahead so that he could really put on the speed to catch up. I think he hit that magic 5th gate for a few seconds, which was cool. I'd have to agree with the multiple tour guides from previous days who said you could hold a cup of coffee during that. No idea how much would be left in the cup in the time it takes to get up to that smooth pace, though.

Also, now I kind of want to eat horse.

After the tour, we decided to spend the afternoon being serious about jewelry. A fairly common style here is the combination of lava rocks with silver. And we all know that 10 years is volcanic lava. I have a bit of an affinity for metals mixed with atypical materials, so this should be totally my thing. Unfortunately, there are two prevalent styles. One works the silver into shapes that look like flowing lava around stones and the other polishes them so much that they look like glass or plastic. Neither was really working for me.

Bill did find some cuff links at a street vender that were nice rectangles of lava rock and some slightly more expensive silver ones that are pretty cool. I eventually found a nice spherical pendant that was working into some fish leather instead of silver and it's lovely. Also, somewhere in between looking at the styles and price points of various vendors it occurred to me that one of the stores we've passed and ignored is totally a craft supply place. So now I have some raw materials to work from. Er, to have someone more skilled than me (Vo0? Want to do some sketching with me this weekend?) work from to make something I'd really love.

Then it was off to dinner. So glad we decided to wait until we were actually hungry to try the Tapas place. We each went with a slightly different menu. Mine was the "Hunter" which included puffin, lobster, salmon, lamb, chorizo and a substitution of Icelandic foal in place of tuna. Bill couldn't remember if foal was horse or venison, but it's not like there's a wrong answer to that one. The internet tells me I did indeed get to enjoy a fine chunk of horse meat which I suspected from it not being terribly like venison. The tour books lie when they say puffin tastes like liver. It's much closer to goose in flavor. The lobster was deep fried and yet still the best lobster either of us has ever had. Also, wow can that place make a flourless chocolate cake.

A final lesson for the evening: sage and pineapple go in mojitos.

The Fifth Gate

A horse |  It's true name | And a sea monster.

Today we had to get moving sort of early so we'd be ready for our last pre-booked tour.  Today's tour involves riding horses through lava fields.  I guess I should specify not red hot lava, which would involve a certain element of barbeque horse danger, but solidified black lava.  The kind of landscape best described as lunar.  From the onset Dawn has been very enthusiastic about getting to ride horses, I have been less so.

Every time we pass a field with horses in it tour guides feel obliged to share with us the following information about Icelandic horses.  Horses are not native to Iceland and were brought over about 1000 years ago.  Over the centuries they have been intelligently designed to become short, strong, sure footed steeds (the environment pretty much demands it).  At some point Iceland decided to ban the importation of lots of animals, horses included, so the only type of horse on Iceland is the Icelandic horse.  They export their horses to other countries, but if a horse leaves Iceland for any reason (such as to attend an international competition) it can never return.

With obvious pride the tour guide will then proceed tell you that the Icelandic horse is prized the world over for its fifth gate.  Evidently most horses only have four gates, but the Icelandic horse has developed a fifth one.  I'll be honest and admit to having very limited equestrian knowledge.  From context I have equated horse gates to gears or modes.  Without fail the tour guide will mention every time the reason the fifth gate is so amazing is that you can ride in the fifth gate gear and not spill your beverage.  So I naturally assume that the Icelandic horse is some sort of luxury horse, a cut above if you will, because the standard description seems to indicate that there will be drinking and riding.

You can imagine how disappointed I was when I was assigned a horse and there was no cup holder or mention of what beverages we'd be consuming while riding.  My mental image of viking helmet, smoking jacket, and a kind of meandering bar seems to have been out of step with the reality of the situation.

While waiting at the ranch to ride the horses I pepper Dawn with questions about horses since I've decided she's my horse expert.  They mostly follow the pattern of "is it true of Icelandic horses that ..." where I make up some ridiculous fact.  I must of made up about 50 of them.  I wish I had written them down, because some of them were pretty funny.  The only ones I can remember now are:
"that they can only climb up stairs and down poles."
"that they can not be burnt by hot lava but are burnt by the sun."

The guide told me the name of my horse.  I'm sure it's a fine and distinguished name, but with the accent all I got was "Atticus Roudy."   Atticus is a horse who knows his job.  He practically lead me over to where I would be climbing up into the saddle.  I climbed up without incident and he immediately started to get in line with the other horses.  I was pleased to be on such confident hooves.

This is the first time I've ever been on a horse.  It was an strange experience.  It took me a while to find my balance and get use to the motion of walking with two extra legs.  We rode along at a relaxed pace for awhile and I eventually settled in enough to divorce some of my attention from not falling off the horse to actually enjoy the lava field scenery.  Then our guide decided it was time we picked up the pace a bit and tap into our 1 horsepower of power.

It was at the point that Atticus whispered to me that Atticus was not his real name.  He explained that all horses have a true name that they refer to themselves by.  Atticus was a human name he wore for convenience, but his true equestrian name was Testikill Splattermore the Third.  As he increased the pace from a relax walked to whatever second gear on a horse is I instantly learned the truth of this true name.  I won't lie to you.  It was not pleasant.

After a while we slowed back down and I took inventory of the damage.  I made a mental calculation for how long the ride was suppose to be and how long we had already ridden that resulted in an grimace.  For the rest of the ride every so often the guide would decide to subject us to about 90 seconds of groin punishing sprints.  One of the guides rode up to me and explained that if I wanted to go faster I could kick my heals into the side of the horse to spur him on.  All I heard was "if you jab the horse with your heals he'll slap you in the balls, won't that be fun!"  I don't know what I did to the guide or why she had it in for my gonads, but I declined her invitation as much as I possibly could. 

After a morning of horse riding we returned to the hotel, found a bit of lunch and whiled away the afternoon on the streets of Reykjavik. We returned to the tapas restaurant for our reservation at 7:00 pm.  The waitress who took our name and time and walked away the night before had been good to her word and we surprisingly had a reservation tonight.  Which was fortunate because this place is very popular and filled in quickly.  It's also fortunate that we didn't get in last night because we weren't all the hungry and the menu would have given us fits of indecision on how to spend what little appetite we had. Tonight on the other-hand we came prepared and hungry and the menu made for tantalizing reading.

We each decided to go for a set menu.  I got the Icelandic Delicacy menu and Dawn got the Hunter Menu.  How cool is it that I got Spanish tapas with a Icelandic twist?  I'm almost embarrassed to say that I had trepidation that Iceland was not going to feed us well.  Order lamb or fish and you'll be well satisfied.  Both menus were well executed.  Dawn's came with deep fried lobster and mine came with baked lobster and we decided the deep fried lobster was the hand-down winner.  My menu also came with monkfish.  It may be sacrilege to say, but I find monkfish to be superior to lobster is just about every way.  This occasion did not change my mind. (You may not want to click on this link if you've never tried monkfish and wish to in the future. I'm sure glad its called monkfish instead of scary-ass monster fish, because I think monkfish is a more appetizing name.)

We found a statue near the tapas restaurant that I call "The Horse Rider"

There Is No Law Here

Petite Air Transport | Puffins | Puffins Snacks | Dos Cervezas

This morning was a nice change of pace. We got to sleep in. Snug in our little cabin. Our first flight (of three!) was not until 1:00PM which gave us plenty of time to get dress, drive to Akureyri, and have breakfast at a nice cafe.  Afterwards we got to walk around central Akureyri for a bit before driving back to the airport and turning in our rental car.

I'm really glad we got a day with the rental car.  The pre-book tours are fun, but I really also enjoy being able to wonder around a landscape and stop and investigate whatever strikes our fancy.

Check in at the airport was even easier than the Reykjavik airport. They just asked us our name this time and handed us our receipt paper boarding pass.  Eventually they walked into the departure lounge and announced the flight for Grimsey, our destination. Five of us got up and walked out onto the tarmac.  Our plane was not in sight. The airport employee motioned for us to follow him.  We walked along the terminal for a bit then turned the corner to see the cutest little plane you ever did see.  I'm glad there was only five of us, because the plane only seats eight. Ten if you count the two pilots.  And you probably should because we got to sit right behind them.  Not in the first row mind you. Technically we were in the second row and the pilots where in the first row.  There was no division between us.  We got to watch the pilots fly our little plane.  Nothing was stopping us from reaching out and giving them a wet willy besides their big pilot headsets.

The flight to Grimsey in our little plane was sensational.  Grimsey is an island about 25 miles north of Iceland that has the privilege of having the Arctic Circle bisect it.  Our flight to Grimsey included a tour of the island.  Two of the passengers on the plane had other business on Grimsey (family relations?) and left immediately.  That left three of us to go on the tour.  The tour consisted of one of the airport people driving from one side to the other of the 3 1/3 square mile island.  We got to see the sites.  There is a small village of about 80 permanent inhabitants on the island.  A ferry comes three times a week to bring them supplies.  There is a church, but the priest lives on the main land so they only use it twice a year for service and on weddings and baptisms as necessary.  There is a market and a restaurant.  The tour guide is obviously proud of her island.  The majority of the people work in the fishing industry.  A few cater to tourist like us.  There are no police because we are told there is no crime in the small community.  She tells us practically speaking there is no law of government except what they decide to enforce. 

Grimsey's other claim to fame is bird watching.  The island has outlawed most form of animals to protect the birds.  They have a couple of horses (literally) and some sheep.  All other animals are not allowed on the island.  There are a bunch of different birds species but the only two I can identify are arctic terns (let's call them asshole birds) and puffins (the cute ones). Puffins are by far the star of the show.  We get to spend time walking along cliffs and looking at nesting birds.

After about two hours we hop back on the plane and fly back to Akureyri.  This time we don't even get a boarding pass.  We are assured that they know who needs to get on the plane and formalities are unnecessary.  I ask the pilots if I can take photos during the flight and they act like I can pretty much do whatever I want during the flight.  I love Iceland Air.

Once back in Akureyri we have about 4 hours to kill before our flight back to Reykjavik.  We take a taxi to the town center and walk around some more.  Getting a bit peckish we decide to sample what the tour books claim is an Icelandic institution... the hotdog.  The tour books also claim Icelandic hotdogs (called pysur) are the best in the world because they add lamb in addition to pork and beef to them.  I have to admit, it was a really good hotdog.  I've come to realize the truth of all things in modern Icelandic culinary circles.  When in doubt add seafood or lamb.  Trust me, you can't go wrong if you order seafood or lamb.  The seafood is ridiculously fresh and prepared with a millennium of seafood know-how.  They don't allow imports of sheep so all the lamb is domestic.... and we just so happen to be visiting at the peek of slaughtering season.  I'll admit I had my doubts about the cuisine of Iceland before we left, but those doubts we unfounded.  We are eating well during our visit.

After the hotdogs we visited the same little cafe we had breakfast in for dessert.  Icelandic bakeries know what they doing as well and we were well satisfied with our dessert and coffee.

Finally we hopped a plane back to Reykjavik and after a quick visit to the hotel hit the town again.  Stores that cater to tourist like us have no problem staying open to 10:00 PM in the summer.  The city is still hopping when we get back at 8:00.  We walked around and eventually decided to try a tapas restaurant whose menu looked appetizing (after viewing puffins, now Dawn wants to eat a puffin, and puffin tapas were on the menu).  The place must be awesome because we waited for a table for over a half an hour and no tables were to be had.  We made reservations for the next day and headed back to our hotel.  Our hotel has a Mexican restaurant attached to it.  This kitchen was closed but I decided I'd like a beer to end the day.  There was a miscommunication with the waiter and I ended up with two beers.  I decided to view this as an opportunity rather than a mistake.

Crossed Lines

This morning we slept in and enjoyed more of our great view before heading back to Akureyri. We took a slightly different route back to the ring road and got to see new interesting landscape and single lane bridges.

We had a light lunch at a bakery. By the way, bakeries here are awesome. I don't know what the chocolate hazelnut dipped almond paste filled shortbread with baklava filling on top was called, but it was awesome. I told Bill he should be looking for baking books.

After wandering around town for a bit, we headed back to the airport to catch our flight to Grimsey. They didn't ask for ID at any point in any of the three flights we were on today. The flight back from Grimsey didn't even involve boarding passes. The flights to and from the island were in a tiny little prop plane with 10 seats and a bit of luggage space at the back. The view was spectacular.

The island is home to a small fishing village that I'm pretty sure Bill talks about in his post as well as many, many birds. Mostly arctic terns and puffins. Landing on the island involved displacing a runway full of terns as they all fled into the air just ahead of us. Grimsey is also partly in the Arctic Circle so now we have nice little certificates that say we've crossed it. Also, thanks to MiFi, I got to make a terrible pun on Google+.

For some reason I want to eat a puffin now.

After the short flight back, we had a few hours to kill, so it was back to Akureyri for some shopping, hot dogs, and another stop in the bakery. We also wandered around trying to find a statue that I think the tour book made up. I also tried to talk Bill into buying some books so the bag he was carrying would get even heavier, but he was totally on to me and didn't think I was funny.

After the flight back,we wandered around Reykjavik for a bit looking for a quiet bar to get a drink and instead found a Tapas place with puffin on the menu. The wait was really long and we weren't actually very hungry so we made reservations for tomorrow night.

Best Museum Evah

We got up early to catch a flight from Reykjavik to Akureyri and rented a car to drive to Husavik. Along the way we took a slight detour to see the legendary location where Iceland traded one set of false gods for the one true false god by tossing some idols into a waterfall. At least, I assume that's how it works since they later joined in the Protestant reformation. That change involved a few executions. Yay, progress?

The stop in Husavik I have so been looking forward to because that is the location of the Icelandic Phallological Museum. It would have been so disappointing to visit a country with an entire museum dedicated to penises and not make it there. I really want to add a picture here, but I'm not sure what Google's policy is. Surely this is fine:

Anyway, the Icelandic news feed I've been reading for the last 6 months or so let me know in the spring that they had finally acquired a human specimen, thus completing the goal of having a specimen from every type of mammal that lives here. They already had a few castings, including several members of the 2008 Olympic Handball team, but now they have an actual flesh and bone one in a jar next to the hamster samples. Also, I have the bestest new ornament for our Christmas tree.

We followed this with a visit to the Whale Museum. Whale watching is kind of the thing to do here (there are more than 30 whales represented in the Phallological Museum), but Bill does not do boats. I took this picture of killer whale bones for Alison.

Also, they had some windows filled with shattered glass bottles that were really cool.

After that, we checked in to the crazy expensive cottage we rented for the night and wandered around it's grounds for a bit.

Myvatn Lake, near the waterfall, Bill was on the fence about visiting. I flipped through the tour book and it suggested visiting Hverfell in the same region which was described as a 25 minute walk to the top of the crater. That sounded like a good idea right up until we got to the base of the thing.

We made it to the top and back again. Bill has far too much endurance for someone with a desk job who's recreational activities are video games and video games, and I had no hope of keeping up. So the ascent was mostly him making fun of me. We're probably both going to be in a lot of pain tomorrow. The view from the top was pretty spectacular.

Here it is from the far side of the lake. Bill is starting to get burnt out on gorgeous scenery and thinks this lake is just ok.

Back at the cabin, we watched the sun dip below the ocean a few minutes past 10, but even at 11:45, there's still a lot of light out. Tomorrow should be another exciting day of driving and flying and we don't even have to get up crazy early.

Whalers on the Moon

Security Free | Whalers | Moonscape | Sunsets

Got up early today. Earlier than the last two days in fact, because we had a plane to catch.  This morning we're flying from Iceland's capitol Reykjavik (which in the south-west corner) to Akureyri (which is in the north-central).  Reykjavik is the largest city in Iceland with just over 200,000 people.  Akureyri is the second largest "city" with 17,000.  They just get smaller from there.  (The whole country has just over 300,000 people).

Flying across the country takes about 40 minutes and was very pleasant. Since this was a domestic flight we got to use Reykjavik's regional airport which was just a few minutes from our hotel (international flights are handled by Keflavik airport, which is near Reykjavik).  When we checked in at the airport they asked our names, took a passing glance at our ID then printed out a "ticket" on a piece of receipt paper that contained our name, seat number, and a bar code.  Then a couple of minutes later they called our fight and we went outside and got on the plane.  Once we all took a seat we took off.  No security, no searches, no hoop jumping bullshit. Fast simple air travel.  Even though the flight was short they still managed to fit in a coffee/tea and chocolate service in route.

We landed in Akureyi and picked up our rented car then headed to Godafoss which translates into "waterfall of the gods". It got that name because in the year 1000 AD the Lawspeaker for the Icelandic parliament was given the task to decide if the country should convert to Christianity or not (!!)  He decided yes and this is the place he dumped his pagan idols.  Talk about a big decision for your country men.

Afterwards we drove to Husavik, which is home to a certain museum Dawn really wanted to visit (hint: it's the penis museum).  It also has a museum dedicated to the history of whaling which we visited afterwards.  Both museums were pleasant and worth the price of admission, but I would have thought there would be fewer children and fewer strollers in the penis museum, especially because it was up a flight of stairs.  I would have been wrong.  (There were no kids in the whaling museum however...)

Besides museums, Husavik does a brisk business in whale watching tours.  I was adamant that we don't attempt one and Dawn didn't seem very interested in them anyway.  The way I see it, there is only a chance of see a whale on a tour, but it's a certainty that I'll get sea-sick and contemplate drowning myself to make it stop.  That's not a good investment of your vacation time.

We also stopped for lunch and I got to try another "traditional Icelandic" dish which obviously falls into the category of Icelandic comfort food.  It was mash-potatoes with cod mixed in with it.  I thought it was pretty good, but the Icelandic stew we had a couple of days earlier was better.

After museum time we headed out to the Myvatn lake area which turned out to be about a 40 minute ride through a crazy panorama of scenery. Coastal roads, lush farm land, a black sand desert, black lava fields, you name it, we drove through it.  I've run out of superlatives to describe Iceland's landscape.  So I'll do it in the abstract sense.  Whatever scenery you can imagine that involves black rocks and green grass and moss, Iceland has it.  It's probably elaborates the scene with ice caps, extreme terrain, sheep, iridescent blue streams and/or waterfalls.

Our mission to Myvatn (besides just looking at it) was Hverfell.  It's a giant black mound that was formed when magma met ground water and exploded.  The area around what I'm going to call a volcano (but I'm sure there is probably some other more correct geological name for the phenomenon)  is blasted out black moon terrain.  We climbed it and walked about a quarter around its rim.  Very cool.  Also a bit strenuous.

We drove back to Husavik for dinner.  I had another Icelandic fish stew.  This one's texture was less like potato salad and more like a gratin.  Still very tasty.

We finished the evening with a walk around our cabin.  Did I mention we staying in a cabin tonight?  We stayed up late enough to watch the sun go down around 10:00 pm (although its 11:00 pm right now and it's still not actually dark outside).  We watch the sunset proper from chairs on our cabin porch.  If mountains, and lakes, and the ocean, and the sun setting on said ocean is your sort of thing, I suppose it was alright.  Dawn said other people might even find it romantic.

Update: I stayed up to 11:45 and it never really got dark outside.

The end of civilization

That was the phrase used by our tour guide as we left the last stop before heading out to Langjökull today. I hear Bill again doing a lot of typing (and swearing at his Android tablet) about today. I wonder how much of the same ground we'll cover. And will our recollections of the last several hours match?

I was on the fence about doing two days of tours or doing the one super long day tour that hit most of the same points. Two days was the right decision. There's nothing I'd be willing to take out of either day, but today was about as long a tour as I ever want to do. Parts of today's drive were also a bit rollercoasteresque to the point where I actually put on a seatbelt.

The second stop was a waterfall that, while not as big as what we saw yesterday, was beautiful. Bill took some great pictures, including one where I had him "legitimately concerned" while trying to take my own cheater picture.

After a pretty good lunch, we drove through some strange terrain on our way to the foot of the glacier.

The highlight of the day, though, was the Ice Truck tour to the top of the ice cap. The weather was fantastic with great visibility in all directions. The terrain was also interesting. May's volcanic activity had dumped some ash onto the snow and anywhere it accumulated is melting faster than the surrounding snow.

When we got back, we finally made it to the Pakistani restaurant. The smell of that place has made us salivate every time we've passed it so far. And the food was just as good as it smelled. I don't think I've ever had a better korma sauce.

We're ending the evening with a bit of Brennivin in the room as we prepare for the next couple of days on the north side of the country. Today was a lot of fun and I am super excited about tomorrow's plans.