Modes of transportation

Sometimes, when Cas and I go somewhere, we use many modes of transportation in the destination we visit, and today was one of those times.  We flew and we floated.  Our official tour starts in a day and a half, but we came to town early to do all of the add-on activities we could add to the trip.  That’s where the food walk and the “Inside the Volcano” adventure came from.  Our tour company booked them for us in advance of the full-group travel.  And today, we had two things to do.  We began the day with a taxi ride to the small airport inside the city of Reykjavík.  It’s not the one where the international flights arrive, but instead, the one where the helicopter tours originate.  Our geothermal tour was just that.  It was a helicopter ride to a spot close to town where there is a lake and a series of bubbling, steaming hot springs.  The landscape was as strange and foreign as the inside of yesterday’s volcano.  Living in Dallas certainly provides contrast.  We landed and walked around the Hengill geothermal area.  It had bubbling mud pots, a sort of wafting sulfur smell and some of the prettiest (if strangest) landscape you could hope for.  All in all, pretty great.  And the helicopter ride was very smooth.  It was not nearly as loud as you may think, and the six passengers all appeared reasonably comfortable inside of the aircraft.  

Our pilot was named Thor.  I kind of love that his name was Thor.  It’s about the most Nordic name you could ask for.  He was calm, cool and inspired confidence.  He flew us in and out of that space, and I asked him, since he comes to this place several times each day, if he ever got tired of it or stopped saying wow.  He said it it’s different every time he goes there, so no, it never gets old to him.  

You really have to check out the photos in the album on this one. They’re pretty spectacular.  

When we left there, we had a cab ride back to our hotel.  We’re not really taxi people, but most folks we spoke with assured us that, in the absence of our own rental car, a cab ride to and from the airport was the best path.  The confidence we had in Thor and his helicopter was not matched by our confidence in the cab driver on our return to the hotel.  The cab driver talked with his hands a lot- both of them- and he turned to check that we were understanding what he had to say.  And while it’s good practice for polite conversation to establish eye contact and check for understanding, you automatically get a pass on that if you are driving a car.  This isn’t something you should have to explain to a cab driver, for heaven’s sake.  

So, after the helicopter ride and the somehow more harrowing cab ride, Cas and I opted for an afternoon nap.  Day and night are kind of wonky, here, and we’re adjusting as well as possible, but sometimes, the day calls for a nap.  It’s a good thing, too.  We had a few hours in mid day to flop on the pillows and rest before we started moving again.  The evening had us booked on a whale watching adventure.  We walked to the old harbor by way of the main downtown area- so we could stop for a late lunch/early dinner.  I was feeling the need for  cheeseburger, and Cas got a fish sandwich at a cute little spot with a few tables out on the sidewalk.  Today is another beautiful, sunny day in Reykjavík, which we’re told is unusual.  It rained a little bit on our way from the airport to the hotel when we first arrived, but it hasn’t rained since then.  The forecast calls for rain tomorrow, though, so maybe our luck will run out, there.  The sun and the crisp air were perfect, so we took advantage of the outdoor tables on the way to the whale watching excursion.  It was a pretty long walk to the old harbor, but we were happy to arrive.  It was a three hour adventure. The theme from Gilligan’s Island was very prominent in my mind as we embarked on that three hour tour, in fact.  Thankfully, the fates smiled on us and we got back to the same dry land we took off from.  

The whale watching was really, really amazing.  I feel like I am recycling adjectives, but I don’t know what else to tell you.  It’s prime time for humpbacks to be really close to the coast of Iceland.  The guide on the boat said they come in the summer to this part of the world to eat and fatten up, then they head south to mate.  They like to do this seasonally, and summer is the time to dine in Icelandic waters.  

Shortly after we took off, a whale was swimming parallel to us.  The guide seemed surprised that he was that close to the shore, but it was a good start for us.  I was trying to get just one good picture of his tail- proof that I saw a real live, honest-to-goodness humpback whale- and I would be satisfied.  

Now I am of the belief that he was coming out to get us and encourage us to locate his friends.  We made our way out to the spot where the professionals on the boat knew that the whales were feeding.  We were told to look for the spray from the blowholes, then watch that location to see them dive down for food.  We kept our eyes on those sprays, and we were not disappointed.  I think there were at least six different whales the guide wound up talking about, but it was probably more.  I was all excited to take photos of them breathing up at the surface then flopping their tails into the water, when we saw something that I didn’t expect to ever see outside of the television.  One of them was practically leaping out of the water.  The guide over the intercom said he was breaching, which seems an appropriate term for the behavior.  I figured that it was a teenage boy whale trying to impress a girl whale- like he told his friend, “Hold my beer- I’m gonna jump around.”  I think I have worked with teenagers for too long, folks.  But seriously, I hope the girl whale was sufficiently impressed.  We all were.  I mean- just wow:

I see plenty of really cool stuff when Cas and I travel, but this one actually took my breath away.  I legitimately gasped.  Spectacular.  After that, it was definitely time to head back to the hotel.  It was another long walk.  I blame those two taxi rides for the fact that I am ending this day at a scant 15,650 steps.  Yesterday?  No cab rides, and 18,120 steps.  Tomorrow, we have a van coming to pick us up and take us to the place where we will ride Icelandic horses, so they will be doing the majority of the stepping for us.  I could use a little break, actually.  We did stop on the way back to have a light dinner.  Our cheeseburger and fish sandwich were late in the afternoon, so the tapas place was kind of perfect.  It was kind of an Icelandic and Spanish fusion spot, so we had tapas plates of Icelandic foods.  They offered some standard things- scallops (which we loved), lobster, prawns, chicken, etc.  They also had more exotic fare.  We could have selected foal, puffin or kangaroo.  Not what my local menus in Dallas ever say on them, I can promise you that.  We drank a glass each of Spanish wine and had some small portions for dinner.  And for the first time on this trip, we heard music that was sung in a non-English language.  It wasn’t Icelandic, though.  It was Spanish.  Of course.  I mean, it was a fusion restaurant, after all.  

But that’s all I have for now.  Go have a look at the photos, and please play back the video ones of the whales.  We both caught a few frames of that young fella trying to impress the girls.  

tinyurl.com/DunlapIceland 

Underground

So, the new part is only 4,000 years old.  We made our way the the 50,000 year old part.  Of course, I am talking about a volcano whose name is un-type able in an American keyboard format.  I can try to copy and paste it, but it makes my fonts all wonky.  So here it is: 

Yep.  Totally pronounceable to a native English speaker.  

We made our way to a bus stop that took us to another bus that took us to the little house on the side of the mountain that led to the path that led to base camp.  We walked three kilometers from the house to the base camp to then moved from there to the windiest part of the hike, the walk up to the top of the volcano.  It was a pretty difficult hike on the way there, but it was significantly harder on the way back.  Once you make your way from base camp to the tippy top of the mountain (and it’s not actually that tall, but boy howdy, is it ever windy), you use a harness to lock into a rope that runs along a metal foot bridge and takes you to a window washing elevator.  First time for everything, I suppose.  

That was our ride down into the lava chamber.  If you have never been inside a lava chamber before- and most people haven’t, I suspect- it’s worth a look.  You will be super tired and have sore legs at the end of the day, but you will not have regrets.  It had that quality that I truly love in a tourist attraction: other-worldliness.  One of our new companions from the window-washing elevator said it reminded her of an episode of Star Trek.  I get it, but I did feel a good deal cooler than Captain Kirk trodding around in my hiking boots in that lava chamber.  The colors were unreal.  The stones were interesting.  You could see where lava had been before it cooled into the rocks we were seeing.  And on the way there, there were no trees anywhere in sight.  In fact, there were no trees in the area we traveled into on the way.  We had to get about 30 minutes into our ride back to Reykjavík before we saw a single tree.  

I am usually pretty good at explaining things, but on this one, I am at a bit of a loss.  How do you describe a stone chamber in a volcano that was hollowed out when lava spewed out 4,000 years ago?  It was colorful, pretty, barren, strange, damp and strange again.  That’s a heckuva list of adjectives, isn’t it?  

When we got back to the hotel, we opted to sit still for a little bit.  We went to the patio behind the lobby and just enjoyed a little more of what I am told is uncharacteristically nice Icelandic weather.  We were really beat, but we also needed dinner at a certain point, which led us to go out walking.  There’s a piece of good news.  More walking.  I topped out over 15,000 steps yesterday- just sayin’.  Proximity to the hotel did figure into our restaurant choice, I can tell you that.  We found a spot that said they were all booked up with reservations, but we could sit at a pair of seats that faced the street and eat looking out the window.  That was actually what we were going to request, anyhow, so we took it.  A couple glasses of wine, a few lamb shanks and a pastry-topped fish stew were our menu picks, and we were not disappointed with the food or with the people watching.  It’s pretty neat to look out the window at a spot in downtown Reykjavík and watch the world go by.  We tried to guess who was local, who was American, who was from different spots- it’s kind of a fun game with no way of knowing if your guesses are correct.  There’s a ton of tourism in this city, though, so you know there’s a good chance you’re not looking at a native.  

After dinner, we had a pretty easy time falling asleep.  We’re just getting our things together now and heading out.  Something about the way the tour was booked and our insistence on being early meant that the preferred hotel for our tour operator was booked up for the first few nights we’re here.  So they put us up across the street.  We’re just going to eat the complementary breakfast here then roll our bags across the street to our new spot.  Oh, and we’re going to get into a helicopter in a bit, too, so there’s that.  We booked what they are calling a geothermal tour, and in order to do it, you need to be above ground looking down.  Interesting turnabout, as yesterday, we were below.  Then this evening, we’re in for a bit of whale watching.  We sincerely had to come a few days before the tour starts in earnest just to do all of these amazing add-on activities we couldn’t pass up.  

But it’s time to get moving, now.  Spent enough time under the surface, it’s a day for flying and sailing about.  Here’s one for the Christmas card, though- what an adventure:

And our photo album: tinyurl.com/DunlapIceland 

Icelandic cuisine

We started the adventure in Reykjavìk with a food walk.  That meant we were in a group of like-minded people who all wanted to eat the local fare.  We started out in front of the Harpa concert hall, which provided a good meeting spot, and we made our way to the first of five restaurants.  We walked around town, seeing the charm of the city streets and the architectural style while we ate different local specialties.  We learned that most meals in Iceland come from the ocean or from their abundant sheep population.  Lamb is excellent, here, and apparently, there are far more sheep than people in Iceland, prompting a warning from our guide, Kerìtas, that anyone in our little group who rented a car and was headed out on the road around the country ought to heed- the sheep are apparently as stupid as they are plentiful, and they are rarely constrained to a single space, so please exercise caution when driving.  Fortunately, Cas and I are letting someone else drive and be on sheep-watch while we travel Iceland.  

On our food walk, we tried a few country-specific specialties, too.  The Icelandic hot dog is very good.  It’s mostly lamb with a little beef mixed in, and it’s served with the Icelandic version of ketchup, some mustard, their house made remoulade sauce, grilled onions and raw onions.  We were told by a stranger on the Iceland Air flight and by our guide yesterday that we must try one with everything on it.  And so we did.  It was pretty spectacular.  There were a few other things of note in our food adventure.  There was an especially yummy fish stew paired with a grilled fish we both loved.  There was a pretty great ice cream with flecks of their locally made rye bread (which is sweeter than what we know in the US), and of course, there was the shark.  

Hoo, boy, that shark.  I had built it up in my mind pretty effectively.  It all started when I watched a Rick Steves special to familiarize myself with the country we were to visit.  Rick Steves gives a good overview of a place, infused with his own hunky-dory worldview.  He’s good, but kind of a square.  When I saw his reaction to Iceland’s fermented shark, I knew I was in trouble.  Rick didn’t balk at anything else in the whole country.  Then came advice about shark from friends and family who had also been here.  Avoid, avoid, avoid.  So what did Cas and I do?  We tried it.  Our guide assured us it smells worse than it tastes.  Which prompted me to smell it.  Big mistake.  It smelled like I had gone apple bobbing in a vat of Windex.  We were also instructed to chew 5-10 times, then swallow.  I got the little jar of shark-cubes presented to me first, then handed it down a long table.  I picked a small chunk.  I was willing to try, but if presented size options, you take the advantage, right?  Okay- we all held up a shark-cube on a toothpick and said Skál (cheers), then ate.  And it wasn’t terrible.  Not an experience I would want to repeat, but all in all, if it was the only source of protein on a faraway planet, I would survive.  Not a ringing endorsement, I know, bit better than I had been led to believe.  We followed it with a shot of “Black Death” which is a schnapps flavored with caraway seeds.  Not great, either, but somehow the perfect pairing for the situation.  

When we finished our food walk, we were right next to the Hallgrímskirkja Church, the very iconic Lutheran house of worship which is preceded by a statue of Leif Eriksson.  You can go in for free, sit in a pew, enjoy some music if someone is playing the enormous and beautiful pipe organ and have a peaceful moment in the beautiful space.  It’s the opposite of all the churches and cathedrals in Italy we have seen.  It’s plain and sparse, but that is its beauty and its strength.  The arches and design are center stage, leaving the person standing in the middle of it all to contemplate structure, beauty and faith.  It was not too pricey to take an elevator ride to the top of the bell tower, so we did that.  It afforded us a beautiful view of the surrounding city and the shoreline.  Really, that would have been a perfect way to cap off our first day in Reykjavík.  

Except that we managed to come on what our guide assured us was the prettiest day of the year.  She said all the locals were going to spend as much outdoor time as possible, so we joined them with a glass of wine in an outdoor space adjacent to a food court of sorts.  There was a playground with some active kids nearby and tables full of folks, sitting out and enjoying the weather.  But we were wiped out.  We had enjoyed a little nap in the afternoon, but with a five hour time difference and each of us in a body that had been on three airplanes in recent history, we were both ready for some serious sleep.  We made it back to the hotel, brushed our teeth and hit the pillows in our room that hid behind the very necessary blackout curtains.  For context, my weather app says sunrise this morning was at 2:29 am and it will set at 11:57 this evening.  Our guide yesterday assured us that it never really sets this time of year, but we were in bed sleeping (or trying to sleep) when it was prime time to see if she was right.  Aside from a strange bout of being awake at 3 am, we slept pretty well.  And it was a good thing, too.  We have an Inside the volcano adventure today.  We will be walking around inside an actual volcano, but we should be absolutely safe, as the last eruption of this particular one was 4,000 years ago.  Also, I suspect they have a pretty good way to predict eruptions in this part of the world.  

We’ve had a nice, Icelandic breakfast with skayr- the cheese based food that feels like yogurt along with the rye bread they make here- we’re told the recipe calls for geothermal cooking, and we’re totally into it.  Also, it’s a bit sweeter than what we’re used to for rye bread.  It’s quite good un-toasted with butter.  

We’ve got a little time right now to pack our day-pack with our layers we’ll certainly be needing for a trip inside a volcano.  I’ve pored over the travel guide on this one, as I have never been inside a volcano before.  I mean, what do you wear, pack or bring?  It turns out, you bring layers of clothes to wear.  When not gurgling up lava, these things can be cold.  Who knew?  So that’s the update.  We’ll get back here when we have compelted our volcanic adventure.  But for now, I can be maybe the first to tell you- go ahead and eat the shark.  It’s not great, but you have to try, don’t you?  

Here’s the photo album you’ve come to expect: https://tinyurl.com/DunlapIceland

Just like the movies

Everyone can appreciate a dramatic turn in a movie- the airport is a prime scene for these things.  The truth is, of course, that nothing good is ever going down when you have a dramatic moment in an airport.  In the movies, you see the man realize he’s letting his one true love slip away, but he catches her just in time.  In the movies, there’s lots of rapid movement.  Not a lot of that happens in real life.  Reality has far fewer lovestruck fools chasing one another about through sparsely crowded terminals, but yesterday, Cas and I did a bit of an airport jog.  It wasn’t properly movie-screen dramatic, but for us, it was a bit of a plot twist.  Our flight path had us heading from Dallas to Seattle to Portland (Oregon, not Maine), then over Santa’s house to Reykjavík.  The first leg of that journey started off a little, tiny bit later than it should have, so it threw the rest of it into question mark territory.  Hence, the airport run.  In the movies, they don’t really direct your favorite actors to respond visibly to the carry-on luggage they are carrying-on in these airport runs.  Actors seem to be empty-handed, in great shape, unimpeded by other travelers and arriving in the nick of time.  At least we hit that last mark- the nick of time.  In Portland, our gate got changed to a different terminal, and we were late to arrive, so there was a pretty significant hustle.  We got there, and the gate agent had given our seats away.  Great.  So he assigned us to what was left.  Cas got plunked into a middle seat on row 28.  There’s a piece of good news.  I somehow got seat 1A in first class.  Wow.  Also, it’s a nice bargaining chip.  Cas was in 28B convincing the guy in 28A to take the first class upgrade I was offering way up front.  It was barely a half hour on the plans, anyhow, but I like to sit with my guy.  From there, we got to Portland, and suddenly, Cas wasn’t appearing to have a ticket to Iceland.  Dumbest plot twist ever.  I swear, the seat shuffle game from Seattle must have bounced him out of the rest of his reservation.  So Cas went to the gate agent to plead his case.  Something like, Hi.  We bought tickets just like all of these other folks, and we sure do want to go on the trip we paid for, and if it’s not too much trouble, can we maybe sit near each other?  

It’s tougher than it sounds.  It took a bit of finesse from a nice Iceland Air employee at the counter in the Portland airport, and honestly, I think he fibbed and told a man I had anxiety about being separated from my husband.  I mean, I don’t like it, but it’s not cause for a meltdown.  Nevertheless, way back at row 30, we sat together and made our way to Reykjavík.  It sincerely should not have been that difficult.  From there, things got a lot less dramatic.  We made it to the airport, got our ride to the hotel and threw down a few extra bucks for a very early check in.  Like before 9am local time.  The hotel we’re at has a 3pm check in, so sitting here at 2pm, post nap and post shower is a joy we were not guaranteed.  

Here’s hoping the rest of the travel is more run-of-the-mill.  Drama is fine for the movies, but I like a boring amount of reliability.  

Cas and I are off in an hour to do our first activity- the Reykjavik food walk.  I am ready for it.  I’ve been warned about fermented shark and a beverage called Black Death.  I have a roll of chewable Pepto that I hope I won’t need.  Let’s go have some adventures!  

The floor is lava

You know the kid game- The Floor is Lava?  You climb about the house on top of the furniture, hopping from couch cushion to chair to coffee table, because... well... the floor is "lava."  

Cas and I have a sort of lazy day pattern of waking up slowly on weekends or holidays- at least whenever possible- where we delay getting out of the bed as long as we can.  When we do eventually get up and face the day, we invariably will ponder the question, "Do you think the floor is still lava?"  

Today, I pulled up the awesome countdown app I use on my phone that tells me how long it will be until important stuff, and I saw this: 

I've been pulling that up for a quick glance every morning.  But as we slowly rolled out of bed today, I said we'd be in Iceland next week, and there's a chance that the floor there may actually be lava.  

Whoa.  

So that's the big reveal.  If you haven't been close by enough to hear me excitedly pondering Icelandic things and wondering about how many pairs of hiking socks to put in a suitcase in June, the answer to "Where are we going?" is Iceland.  

I am fascinated by all of the things that appear in our travel itinerary.  The spellings are impossible looking, the accent marks on the words are a puzzle I likely won't crack and the I'm guessing that the literature we've reviewed is not really preparing me for the gorgeous landscape, the strange, near-constant summer daylight and the sheer number of waterfalls we're about to encounter.  The rain jackets we road-tested in Seattle are headed out with us, and I think they'll be pretty important.  

So that's it.  We're jamming long sleeved shirts into rolling bags this week and heading back across the ocean to celebrate the coming ten year anniversary of our first big trip together- the one where I left with a fiancée and came home with a husband.  It's still a blast to travel with Cas ten years in.  For now, we pack.  I will check in when we start the journey!  Wish us a Góða ferð (Icelandic for good trip, pronounced go-tha-ferth, according to Google)

Skál! (Cheers!)

That’s all she wrote

Back to work.  That's where we're headed Monday morning.  Cas and I have just enough time left in Spring Break to grocery shop, change the furnace filters and run some clothes through the laundry before we head back to our respective jobs Monday. We landed yesterday in the afternoon, walked to the DART Silver Line and headed to UTD station.  It was so easy.  My dad and my brother met us there and took us back home.  Such an easier post-trip pickup- we had them drive under three miles to a train station in their own neighborhood instead of about 25 to the airport.  

And let's talk about the sunshine.  What a glorious thing to see when we returned to Dallas.  It was actually in the high 80s when we arrived- a little warm for the long sleeves I was wearing, but it was so nice out that the walk to the rail station and the short wait on a bench were downright delightful.  

But that's all she wrote for now.  I hang this blog up until our triumphant Heather-And-Cas-Ride-Again moment comes in the summer.  Until then, go to all the places, see all of the things and write stuff down.  You'll be glad you did.  

tinyurl.com/DunlapSeattle

Last night in town

Grumpy Bean.  That was the name of the coffee shop where we began our morning.  Of course, it started at a coffee shop.  We went from there to a very early lunch at Beecher’s Handmade Cheese.  I learned before we left Dallas that they have a mac and cheese that you absolutely must try.  Mission accomplished.  I think I may have overdosed on Lactaid, but no worries- I got the mac.  It was pretty great.  

With our carbs all sorted out for the day, Cas and I headed to the Ballard locks.  These are a pair of locks connecting Lake Union to Puget Sound, and their primary function appears to be to let boats pass through peacefully.  The water levels in these two places are different, and the locks bring boats in to either lift or lower them to the correct level for where they are headed.  It was interesting.  I know it’s not the properly touristic thing to do, but watching a large mechanism raise or lower a whole boat is pretty interesting to me.  Also to Cas.  Heck- maybe we’re a little nerdy when doing tourist things, but we are that way together, so it’s okay.  After that, we wandered down Ballard Avenue, which was nice as we have been staying in the downtown area, and seeing another neighborhood was pretty neat.  We stepped into a wine shop and had a very strange glass of Lebanese wine before heading to a funky restaurant where Cas had a cup of salmon chowder and I had a BLT with the thickest bacon I have seen in a while.  It was a neat spot, a cool neighborhood, and as we have come to expect in Seattle, a nice bunch of people.  

After that, our city bus passes were good for a trip back to the main downtown area, where we took an underground tour.  When it was founded, Seattle was built up of wood.  There was a horrific fire, and the rebuild was strange.  There’s a large potion of that rebuild that is currently underground, and more was built on top of that.  Enough to be significant and interesting- and worthy of a unique tour.  We learned about hotels, banks, hardware stores and sawmills.  We learned about houses of ill repute and spaces that later housed bootleggers.  We got an underground-tour-look at the city where we’ve been sleeping for several nights.  It was a very cool tour.  

And now, we need to hit the hay.  It’s time to get to bed, because tomorrow morning will come very early, and we have to make our way back to Dallas.  This has certainly been a strange spring break trip- it started late and ended at a time we didn’t necessarily anticipate, but it was another good one.  Cas and Heather approved.  I’ll check back in from the house in Dallas, but after that, you’ll have to hold your breath for the next bit of adventure this summer.  If we haven’t told you where we’re going I will leave you in suspense.  You’ll see in June- hoo boy- it’s gonna be a good one.  Until then, here were are underground.  

Here, once again, are our photos: tinyurl.com/DunlapSeattle