Boiling pool of Icelandic mud
I’m here, and I have the freezing cold feet and frizzy hair to prove it. It’s almost 12:30 a.m., and having failed to enlist anyone on either U.S. coast (where it’s 5:30 p.m. and 8:30 p.m., respectively) in an e-mail conversation, I realize I’m sleepy. I should probably ride that wave, but in the interest of a quick post, I’ll share my first impressions:
1. Colder and wetter than I anticipated. I bet they make a killing on those handmade wool sweaters…
2. Despite my best efforts on neutral clothing, the second I open my mouth I am branded “American girl” – but not in a mean way or anything. In fact, the man who rang me up at the little grocery seemed positively delighted that I was from “the States.”
3. Somehow it’s so very European here. Every nook and cranny. It’s hard to explain, but if I were kidnapped and drugged and came to in this strange place (and said strange place happened to beReyjavik), I have no doubt I would know it was Europe somewhere (not that that’s a terribly specific insight). It almost has its own smell.
4. Forget Southern California, if you’re looking for blondes, this is your mecca.
Brrrrrrrr
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Stay warm American girl
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Are you planning to blog the journey all the way? I’d love to ‘join’ you.
Take care out there though and have fun!
Hi Daffy! That (daily blogging along the way) is the plan! I have a nifty little mini-computer, and so long as I can find an internet connection of some kind, I´ll post. For the moment, it doesn´t recognize my photo card (might have something to do with the fact that the computer runs on Linux? I pretty much know nothing about such things…), so I may have to depend on Windows machines and occasional access to them along the way to upload my pictures. Thanks for the well wishes, and I´m happy to have you join! It can get lonely out there!