IcelandAir Hotel, Reykjavík, Iceland

Up late this morning (comparatively – 10 am is rather late for my parents), then off to center city Reykjavik.


(Mom and Dad)

I’m in my room and exhausted, and watching some bizarre British show in which women complain about things. Shopping with their teenage daughters, coffee shops, “Saturday girls”¹… I don’t get it but I love it. Now they’re talking about muffins and the fact that they’re huge. Damn you, muffins! Kids these days! You get off my lawn!


(Me)

Brekkie at a pub where they played jazz and Bob Marley. We wandered up the main shopping street (you know it’s the main shopping street because it has a sign that says “main shopping street”), all of us jet-lagged and tired, and just staring dazedly at all the clothing stores. It’s almost all clothing stores.


(Dad on the main shopping street)

I managed to find a few yarn shops, which pleased me more than a little bit, but didn’t find much else.


(Now I'll always know how to tie a tie.)

Oh! These women like gardening! This show is completely delightful.

We hit the National Museum of Iceland and scoured around for information about Aud the Deep Minded (which, by the way, is why we’re here). Didn’t learn much new, outside of that I pronounce her name so wrong that the museum worker didn’t know who I was talking about. She said it slowly, and there was a “th” sound and a rolling r in there that I just couldn’t quite make happen. There was spit involved. On my part. Accidentally. I am totally classy.


(Also, I am totally a viking.)

Now. The guidebooks had implied that the electrical outlets here were the same as those in the UK. For the record, this is a big fat lie. They’ve got two round pins. So, when dad’s camera battery died we trolled the shops for an electricity converter. Not finding one we went back to the hotel where I checked the converters I’d brought. The good news was that I had one with the two pins! The bad news is that their outlets are circular and recessed, and my adapter was rectangular and, um, not good for recession. The good news is that they had a converter at the front desk that we could use. The bad news is that we can’t take it with us. Which is also good as it weighs about 20 pounds. Which isn’t much of an exaggeration.

Plowing through a buffet dinner (YES GOOD BLUE CHEESE), I went to the pool and sauna², and now I’m spacing out. Tomorrow we head out to… Snufflesburg³.

Nothing too exciting.

¹ A young girl who works in a clothing shop only on Saturdays who traditionally knows nothing about the store in which they work. And doesn't care to know. And hates you.
² While I was lounging in the hot tub (ish? Thing? It was a shallow rectangular pool with jets on the long sides) watching wrestling on tv (it's what was on) the pool... guy? watcher-over-er? came by and warned me to watch the steps as some drunk young men had broken the tile. How you would break a tile in a hot tub is beyond me, but we both agreed that boys and alcohol don't mix. And then he turned on Charmed for me.
³ Snæfellsness.