2 IAD to KEF

July 1, 2016


It's about 7:30 am. We made it to Reykjavik and are currently waiting for luggage, so it seems a perfect time to get the journal caught up.




Steph dropped us off at IAD and, as you may recall, gave us a beautiful malachite lion, for travel safety...well, in the check-in line, before we got to the ticket counter, Aslan, as he shall now be referenced, slipped and fell off the suitcase and onto the concrete floor, and broke his leg clean off!

Was he truly unlucky, or was he just deflecting some unknown tragedy lurking just beyond our awareness? As it turned out, we had a couple close calls that, had Aslan not been there to absorb the bad vibes, we could have had some serious mishaps. I happened to drop my reading glasses as we were descending the escalator, and as I bent to retrieve them, my little white sweater came perilously close to getting enmeshed in the stairs... but it didn't! Thank you, Aslan! Who knows how many other dire circumstances he helped us avoid that we will never know didn't happen?






We were concerned about his well-being, though, so once we got to the midfield terminal, we hunted high and low for some superglue; sadly, none was available for sale, but a very nice lady who worked at the sundries counter had a small tube secreted away for just such emergencies. I shared Aslan's predicament, and she quickly took matters into her own hands, literally. Actually, I kind of wish she hadn't because her aesthetic standards were not quite up to par with her enthusiasm; nonetheless, Aslan was quickly reunited with his front right paw, (almost) good as new!

We dined on Wendy's burgers as we waited for the Iceland Air flight. We finally embarked and discovered that his was not an aisle seat but the middle seat. This would not do. So I traded the window seat with him and shared part of my seat as well. The latch on 13A would not engage, so he was permanently reclined; it added a little to his discomfort, but he just really needed a bigger seat. He watched a couple movies--just like home!--and had a Pepsi Max. I played with the coloring book in the kids TV section; it was fun but not as much as the one on my phone.




I have to say--it was beautiful to look out the window; it was sunset--all night long! --and then sunrise, as there was no night to speak of.

As we came to the rocky edge of the island, the ocean was broken by jagged flat rich green and deep brown of grass abounding in fertile, volcanic soil, followed almost immediately by the brilliant purple flowers that resembled a large lupine scattered with wild abandon across the landscape.


The Reykjavik (actually Keflavik) Airport is like IKEA East. Modern, clean stylings, at least. Functionality was another story: the ladies' room toilet didn't flush (though the faucet had its own hand dryers built in!), and another mishap crossed our path when the luggage carousel conveyor shuddered and made an unusually distressed utterance then abruptly stopped.

Sigh. Luggage went to the next carousel with little fanfare as passengers, with no complaint, did little more than rotate on their heels to retrieve their checked belongings. Was this something to which they were accustomed? Well, there was certainly nothing to be done about it, at the moment, anyway. I didn't ponder this long as I found something else to divert my attention; while we waited, I had my first experience with an international ATM and retrieved some cash in the form of Kronas--10,000 apparently equals about 81 dollars. It came in handy over the whirlwind two days we spent there.






My small blue suitcase emerged rather quickly, but we waited...and waited...for Andy's luggage to make an appearance. It wasn't crucial, but his suitcase did have the swimsuits in it, which we would definitely need for the Blue Lagoon in a few hours! Finally it arrived, so we ventured outdoors and hunted down the taxi stand. (By that point, the airport maintenance crew was already working to repair the conveyor--good for them on their quick action!)






Odette, our travel agent, assured us that the hotel was about 4 miles away and to just hail a cab, so we did. It was a VERY nice black almost-limo with very nice leather seats and a very nice 30-something driver.  We said we needed to get to the Hotel Fron, so he pointed us in the right direction and we all began on our way. It was about then that we found out that it was actually 40 km, not 4 miles, and that the taxi ride would be about 110 Kronas, or $85. Oh well, there it is. As it turned out, I think it was worth every K because the driver was so friendly and told us everything about the island from its political history to its religious leanings, and of course he was irrepressibly excited about Iceland's showing in football (soccer); he said that about 20% of the country was going to France to see the game. I so enjoyed the 6 am tour that I gave him an American (translate: overly generous) tip, which he did not refuse.






More inland along the road from the ocean, there were many swallow-tailed, light grey terns with dark beaks; a look in one of the many bird books on my shelf indicates that they were probably ternagers--sorry for the pun--immature arctic terns. I also saw a couple Bonaparte gulls, which were so obvious with the black head coloration. But once we got to town, all I saw was one starling. One would assume that there were others nearby, but, well, maybe they went to France for the game.






We were deposited at the Hotel Fron and found that our room was ready early. Finding it, however,  was another story--out the back door, up an incline and then a short flight of stairs to the third building. At least once we got there it was on the first floor. The rooms there were, shall we say, not luxurious, but they were well-appointed in that European minimalist sense--very small but tasteful.

Add about half the width of a door, and that's it.

We got our stuff together and proceeded out to procure breakfast. The Fron is downtown in the artsy district, so we had no trouble finding a bakery/café; finding a seat was another matter because the place was very popular for carryout as well as dining in, but a nice couple of ladies was just finishing morning coffee, so we were in luck.

Breakfast for Andy: ham and cheese on a sandwich roll. I had smoked salmon with fennel and arugula on a soft pretzel. Apparently it is very popular from Iceland to Munich to Budapest to slice a soft pretzel lengthwise and make a sandwich out of it. I am not complaining...

The shuttle bus to the big bus to the Blue Lagoon met us at the appointed corner, and we proceeded on our way. So the Blue Lagoon, a coworker of Andy had opined, is a big tourist trap; I agree that I would love to hike and camp out in the wilderness there SOMEtime, but for now--TRAP ME!!! It was great to go to the spa right after a long plane ride, right? Well, then, if you have ever been to the Korean spa, it's like that; I think that standing in line and waiting is part of the entrance fee, like earning your right to relax.

It's a very nice trap. It is basically a HUGE warm/hot swimming pool in which the water is blue with silica, hence the appellation. In more moderate climes the water temperature would be oppressive, but, since the air temperature was in the 50s and it was windy, the water was perfect! We survived the maze of changing rooms and showers and--wait, you have to shower before your put your suit on, but you already changed because the changing room comes first--oh well, no one is the wiser--haha, first-timer...

Anyway, it was wonderful to relax and push or swim through the soothing warmth. In-water bar drinks were available, so I had a banana smoothie, and Andy had a beer, the first of many!


We did spend some time in the sauna as well, but my lungs can only tolerate so much dry heat; so I left while Andy baked a while longer. I had reserved an in-water massage, so when it was my turn, I was instructed on how to get on the mat without falling off and making a total idiot of myself. The masseur then covered me with a big towel, which he periodically wet with the hot water. I will have to say that it was the most relaxing massage I have ever had, not necessarily the most therapeutic, but it was thoroughly enjoyable.




A post pool snack was included, so after changing back into my clothes I went to the snack bar and had THE BEST mini loaf chocolate cake/bread--moist, dense, full of white chocolate chips and nuts--and a cappuccino.

The only exit was, no surprise, through the gift shop, which I passed once successfully because I thought we were late to the bus. As it turned out we were TOO late to that particular bus and had to wait for the next one. This of course left plenty of shopping time! I found a lava and silver necklace for Steph and some Blue Lagoon miracle skin cure sample lotion.

The Blue Lagoon building itself was situated at the end of a path through 15' tall igneous rock (quite similar to Hawaii's a'a but denser) boundaries on either side;

there were some tiny white flowers growing there, just where God had put them, I guess!


With all the back and forth I got in plenty of steps today! It looks as though I also got me a good sunburn; the massage had me facing upward for about an hour, so I guess that the rays are still strong, even this far up in latitude.

Back to the hotel street, we wanted to go to the Chuck Norris Grill, but it was full; so we opted for an Icelandic steakhouse. Andy got horse steak, at the advice of our newfound taxi driver/advisor ("don't eat the puffin; it's not that good"), and I got lamb shank. It was good, but I felt kind of queasy, either from the food or from the sun...the dessert was a relief from the heaviness, a surprisingly light apple/nut concoction, somewhat akin to bread pudding, accompanied by a very heavy vanilla ice cream.

One thing I will say is that the milk products are all very heavy with cream, so I must be careful. But everywhere we went in our short stay, servers proudly offered us the most delicious icy cold, pure water, delivered in large carafes; it was the most refreshing liquid I have ever imbibed.



We strolled back to the room, as much as one can stroll with a gale blowing you down the street, and fairly summarily fell into bed, looking forward to some well-earned zzzs after 30 hours of awakeness...It is so hard to be sleepy when the sun is still out, even at 10:30 pm...or 2:30 am...