The tip of the iceberg

The Vatnajökull glacier is in the southeast corner of Iceland, and it covers nearly 8% of the country.  Today, we headed out on a path where, most of the time, we had some portion of the glacier in view when we were moving down the road.  The mission for the day was to head to the glacial lagoon for an amphibious boat tour.  There were a few hikes along the way to the lagoon, as well as a quick visit to something called “diamond beach,” which is a black sand beach covered in bits of glacier chunks.  They’re icy and shiny and look a bit like diamonds.  Guess we didn’t miss the black sand beach after all- we just managed to hit a different one than we had originally thought.  

Cas and I have a silly thing we do when we visit beaches where we take a very touristy toes-in-the-sand photo.  When it’s really cold and the beach is to a glacial lagoon, that photo looks a bit different.  

We hiked a bit today, in fact.  I think we were both happy to see that the nature was unspoiled in our path.  The Icelanders had made little gravel walkways to the things you want to see, but the walkways were clean.  There were no garbage cans or recycling bins, but there was also no trash.  If people had garbage, they carried it back out with them.  It was kind of remarkable.  If this attraction was in the US, the whole path would be littered with the Cheeto bags and Granola bar wrappers that didn’t fit in the overflowing trash cans, because those would be full of Gatorade bottles and Monster cans.  I love America, but sometimes, we’re so predictable.  

Next came the amphibious boat tour of the glacial lagoon.  That was a blast.  It was a drivable-on-land boat.  It was pretty similar to a Duck Boat, if you have ever been in a city that had those, but these were not branded that way.  When you go on these boats, you walk in and are handed a bright orange life vest.  I did land the best joke of the day when I donned my vest.  I looked at Cas and said, “Be honest, does this make me look fat?”  That got a rise out of total strangers.  It’s even funnier if you know me and Cas.  I would never in a million years ask that question in earnest- it’s a husband-trapping question for which there is only one right answer. Also, I totally looked as slender and svelte as anyone else on that boat.  

In our sail around the glacial lagoon, we saw a harbor seal, some sea birds, a few ducks and a whole lot of floating glacial chunks.  Big and small icebergs.  We each had an opportunity to hold a chunk of the ice that one of the guides fished out of the water.  800 year old ice, we’re told.  This part of this particular glacier was around that age.  Pretty cool, if you ask me.  Literally and figuratively.  

I did find myself wanting more vocabulary today.  I needed more words.  I have already worn out awesome, beautiful, spectacular, majestic, magnificent and wow.  Maybe that will be my mission during our travels to the next destination tomorrow.  More words for HolyCowLookAtThisAmazingThing.  

I think this was my most unusual thing today.  I have seen waterfalls before, and I have done a lot of the activities we’ve done here, but floating past little chunk-lets of glacier in a lagoon populated with seabirds and seals was a first- I didn’t even really have a thing to compare that to.  

More stuff from the need-more-info files- the glaciers we saw today were sometimes blue.  They’re sometimes blue because that’s the light color they reflect, and when smaller chunks of these larger, blue-seeming things are removed, they look clear.  The more you know, right?  And the ones that look striped- unsurprisingly, that’s volcanic ash in there.  Turns out, there are volcanoes in this country.  Yeah, that would have been everyone’s guess if the guide hadn’t mentioned it.  But still, how cool was floating around amid blue glacier chunks and stripey ones?  

We’re at our hotel for the evening.  We stopped for ice cream on the way back, and Cas joined me in trying a dandelion flavor.  It’s interesting.  A little honey-ish.  Someone else said it tasted like caramel.  More like honeycomb if you ask me.  

We arrived at the hotel in time for happy hour, had a nice dinner and retired to a sunny night in the room for a little blogging.  It’s nearing 10 pm and bright as day out.  Of course.  

Tomorrow, we head to the East Fjords.  Should be a great time.  I need a synonym for great. 

Anyhow, here are our photos: tinyurl.com/DunlapIceland Good (sunny) night.  

Don’t go chasin’ waterfalls

This was the day that we we began chasing waterfalls in earnest.  Sure, there were some water falling off of a steep spot at Gulfoss yesterday, but today was one for the books.  We went deliberately to a waterfall, only to find several small waterfalls near it, then we passed one or two on the way to the other waterfall on our agenda.  Heck, we sort of stopped for a moment to see one that was situated in some dude’s back yard.  Our guide today asked if we knew how many waterfalls are in Iceland.  There were several guesses.  I answered, “I don’t know, most of them?”  I think my answer was closest to the truth.  

The day began with the group assembling outside of the hotel and hopping into the van.  It’s a 12 or 15 passenger van, so rows of seats feature two chairs paired on the left and one row of singletons on the right.  It’s quite a comfortable ride.  And in another country, I am happy to let a native do the driving.  I have no interest in trying to understand local laws and customs in a new place.  Too much stress.  I mean, when a tourist steps out in front of traffic, do you instantly stop because that is the way, or do you get all mad and honk because they’re irresponsible?  Not my problem.  I asked our guide if he, as a native Icelander, ever got super frustrated with a million tourists from different parts of the world driving according to the rules they learned in their home countries, and he was too polite to answer.  So yeah, I expect he hates that crap.  

Cas and I settled in and we all made our way to the Lava Centre.  There, we learned about all of the active volcanoes in Iceland.  We learned about each of their most recent eruptions and what tectonic shifting was causing all the hubbub.  It was really a very cool museum.  Next, we went to two different waterfalls with names that you may see in a travel guide, though there are dozens of foss-es between all of the big-ticket foss-es.  Our first stop was Seljalandsfoss.  That was especially cool because you can walk along a trail that takes you behind the waterfall.  It’s a little slippery and precarious at times, but you end up walking 360° around the thing.  It becomes something you see from every angle.  Very cool.  That was super neat.  And today, our expectations of Icelandic weather were finally met.  We were told by our guide that today is Icelandic National Day, or their Independence Day, and he was fully expecting that the weather be more typically Icelandic.  Today did the trick, apparently.  He kind of laughed at us yesterday for our desire to wear sunscreen.  He didn’t think that behavior was appropriately Icelandic, somehow, but I assured him that, as a very fair skinned person in Texas, I have to wear sunscreen to look out the window, so this is just an abundance of caution.  Today, there were no such concerns.  Today, we walked around in cloudsville to the waterfall, then hopped back in the mega-van to another cloudy falls moment.  Cloudy falls #2: Skógafoss.  

Skógafoss is kind of cool because you can walk right up to the front of the thing.  The water pounds into a lake below, but is is super shallow and there is a rocky path leading up to it where you can walk nearby.  So we did.  We were all up in front of that waterfall.  It was a day that made us both happy we had packed rain pants and rain jackets.  I marveled at the efficiency of these garments.  Good job, rain clothes.  Really.  

After that, there was a visit to the Skógar Museum, which was interesting all on its own.  It had indoor exhibits as well as outdoor ones, and the outdoor ones featured homes and other buildings in the traditional Icelandic style.  Very interesting.  

After that, we hopped into the van and headed for what we thought was a trip to a black sand beach.  That didn’t work out like you may have hoped.  As we were driving to the black sand beach at Reynisfjara, the winds arrived.  They notched up near gusts of 78 miles per hour, meaning that our priority became to get to the hotel, not to stop on the way.  Our guide says that winds like that will happen often and when they do, the pass gets closed off for safety.  No traffic in or out.  I get it, too.  We had a storm in Dallas where there were 90-mile-per-hour straight line winds.  That sucker knocked over trees, threw down power lines and sent the whole city into a multiple-day panic.  I didn’t want to play van versus nature.  I’ll trust a guy who lives here and has had to make that call before.  

So to keep us on schedule, he carefully navigated the road and got us to where we are sleeping tonight.  We did stop at a scenic outlook for a moment to look down on where the black sand beach was, but it was not a long stop, and honestly, I am happy for that.  You seen one black sand beach, you’ve seen them all. And safe passage is pretty cool, right?  

So, we are at the hotel.  We stopped in the hotel bar for happy hour.  That means wine is a few go-zillion Króna less than regular price.  It’s the Icelandic version of a good deal.  But we are in for the night, now.  Teeth brushed and pajamas on.  

Tomorrow is a day when we have an amphibian boat tour of a lagoon at the southern edge of the Vatnajökull glacier.  After that, apparently, we have some homemade ice cream.  Hey, I’m here for it.  Sounds pretty great to me.  See you on the other side of the glacial lagoon!  Until then, don’t go chasin’ waterfalls.  Just hang out in Iceland for a moment, and several dozen of them will simply appear.  

And here you go: tinyurl.com/DunlapIceland 

The Golden Circle- the tour begins

Great news.  I found the keyboard tricks that do this: þ ð

This is about to become important.  See, today, we went to þingvellir National Park.  It’s apparently a UNESCO world heritage site, making itself a member of the long list of these sites we’ve managed to visit in our adventures.  It was a spot where the Vikings used to have their parliamentary assemblies and marks the spot between the North American and Eurasian continental plates.  Apparently, this is a spot that scuba divers love to visit so they can swim in the waters that flow along this fault line.  Also, let me check with Cas- okay- it’s pronounced thing-fed-ler.  Yeah.  Obviously.  

That was pretty spectacular. But from there, we headed to Geysir.  Your American brain wants to say guy-zurr.  Sure.  But it’s their word, and they apparently pronounce it geezer.  I like to think of it as an old geezer.  They promise that the most active geyser erupts every ten minutes,  In our experience today, it was more like four.  And boy oh boy, does it ever shoot up into the sky.  Just.  Wow.  It was really something to behold.  We’ve had more breathtaking moments on this trip so far, and we’re nowhere near the halfway point.  

That takes us to Gulfoss.  Gul=Gold; Foss=Falls.  I didn’t see any gold, but I was adequately stunned by the pretty waterfall.  Also, the spray from the massive force of water hitting water produced plentiful rainbows.  Maybe the pot of gold was just out of sight. We did a fair amount of marching about near and around Gulfoss.  I had to stop and wipe my glasses, a problem compounded by the fact that my usual move (wiping them off with my shirt) was not useful, as my shirt was a little damp, too.  Regardless. Þingvellir, Geysir and Gulfoss were winners.  

And it was on to the tomato farm.  Cas was trying not to look as un-enthused as he was on this one.  It’s a whole farm where they have greenhouses that produce tomatoes.  They love tomatoes.  Oh, gosh, the tomatoes there are great.  One thing, though, Cas is no fan of tomatoes.  He likes salsa. Lots of love for marinara sauce.  But hand him a nice, ripe tomato and he will politely decline.  Today, he tried the tiniest of small bites and handed me the rest.  That was a spectacular display of politeness for him.  Seriously.  Until it becomes salsa or something, he is super not interested.  Regardless, we had a good time at the tomato farm, we learned a little more about Icelandic horses and their unique gaits, we ate some tomato soup (which apparently gets a pass form him since the tomatoes are all smushed) and we had another beautiful, uncharasteristally sunny day in Iceland.  We keep hearing from every person in the tourism industry here how unusual this weather is.  Maybe it is for folks who live here, but for us, it’s been gorgeous 100% of the time.  Oops.  I just got smug- I tempted fate.  Tomorrow will probably be really crappy.  It’s like saying no hitter in the middle of a baseball game.  Yeah, that one’s on me, folks.  Also, the forecast calls for rain, so there’s that.  

Anyhow, we got to our very nice hotel in the Golden Circle and checked in.  We stopped into our room and got ready for dinner.  We had a glass of wine beforehand and then had dinner with our new group.  There are nine people total, and Cas is one of two men- besides our tour guide, whose name I will attempt to write after I ask him again how to spell it.  It sounds a bit like the word kiddy, but with a little of an rrr sound in the middle of the word.  More on that later.  In the meantime, there are what I can only imagine are geothermally fed hot tubs at this hotel.  They’re outside, and the current temparetre in Farenheit is 53.  So, if you’re Heather and Cas, what do you do?  

I think you know that answer.  

Good night from Hotel Grimsborgir!

Also: tinyurl.com/DunlapIceland 

Horseys

Our time in Reykjavík is drawing to a close.  Today is our last full day here before the tour group assembles and we head to our next destination.  Starting tomorrow, we’re traveling what everyone around here calls “the ring road” with a journey to a spot that everyone seems to know as the “Golden Circle.”  From what I can glean of the Icelandic language, Foss is a suffix that means you’re talking about a waterfall.  All the waterfalls are something-foss.  This one is Gullfoss, the golden waterfall.  In that we’re headed to the Golden Circle, Gold Falls seems like an appropriate name for the falls.  More on that later when I get more information from whatever tour guide we meet.  

For now, let’s recap the amazing day we just had in and around the capital city of Iceland.  We began with a bit of a hustle out the door to meet our transport van that took us to the Icelandic Horse center.  It’s horsey day today, and we were all ready to go out and ride these amazing animals.  

Things I learned today: Icelandic horses are the most pure bred horses in the world because a some point in history, horses and livestock in the rest of Europe were swapping diseases back and forth, so Iceland decided to take advantage of being an island by forbidding other horses to come and go.  As a result, these guys are very specific to the location.  They’re smaller than what you’d think of with your American brain but they are great animals.  Also, we were told that they are so friendly because of evolution.  The ones who were rude or stand-offish to their fellow horses tended to go off on their own in the winter and suffer in isolation.  The friendly ones kept each other warm and tended to make more horses.  Friendliness wins the genetic lottery.  Hooray for kindness!  

We also rode across lava fields.  Lava fields are interesting.  Just a whole bunch of rocky looking space with mosses and some grass.  The guide had a joke: If you ever find yourself lost in an Icelandic forest, you should stand up.  See, the trees are pretty short around here.  No worries, though- the horses are pretty short, too.  Apparently, short horses have great personalities.  As a 5’4” woman, I can see the value in shortness.  

Icelandic horses have Icelandic names.  My horse was a very calm soul named Blesi.  It was pronounced Blessey.  He was pretty chill.  They have you stand and greet your horse- pet his head and chat him up a little before they help you hop on.  I talked to Blesi the whole time we rode.  Some conversational excerpts:

Me: Hey, buddy, why you pulling to the right? You see something cool over there?  I don’t want to complain that my horse has bad alignment.  Also, what this with following so close.  Hit the brakes, kid.  Heaven knows what may happen if the horse in front of you stops short!

Blesi: Hrrmmph! 

Me: Yep.  Makes sense.  You sure are a kind and patient horse, kiddo.  

Cas was privileged to ride a horse called Styrmir.  Steer-mehr for those of you trying to pronounce along at home.  His horse was a little more spazzy than mine.  Styrmir was often seen dropping out of the column of horses and trying to parallel park his way back into line in his preferred spot.  He was a bit of a pill, but Cas was very good at rolling with it.  We rode to a spot in the middle of the lava fields, and all of the horses seemed to know that we were in the place where they could take a potty break.  I now know the sound of a dozen horses peeing, but I will spare you the description.  

Yes, the horses were awesome.  Amazing.  I need new adjectives.  

And when we got back to the hotel, we were hungry.  We decided to find some food that was probably best in the city we’re currently in.  Our future travels will take us to small places where dinner at the hotel may be the only game in town, and I am sure those will be amazing meals, but I am guessing that this may be our last shot at fish and chips for a while.  So that’s what we went out and found.  There are really some excellent fish and chip options near our hotel, and we took full advantage.  We took advantage, ate way too much and had a nap.  Naps are awesome when you’re five hours off your regular time zone and confused by a sun that almost never sets.  

After our nap, we had a little energy to burn, and Cas found a spot on his Google map called Bullseye.  It is a bar where you can play darts.  Whelp, my skill at darts hasn’t improved.  It’s not that I am bad at darts, but I am certainly not good.  Cas won the first game hands down, and the second game was mine for the taking, but this place has electronic timers on things, so my need to hit one 17 was backed up against his need for the whole dang bullseye.  I think I would have had it.  Alas, the time ran out, and we decided to just enjoy the good company.  Also, he conceded, and I took the win.  I’m not a fool, folks.  

Anyhow, tomorrow, we learn what the Golden Circle looks like and head out to see the rest of this amazing island.  That’s all I have for now.  Have a lovely evening, and we’ll catch you on the other side of a waterfall!

Here’s Cas, Styrmir, me and Blessi. 

Photos: tinyurl.com/DunlapIceland

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 

Coffee flavored coffee

There is coffee for sale pretty much everywhere in this city.  Coffee shops may well outnumber people in Seattle.  I am old enough to remember a time when coffee was a thing adults made at home, and nobody purchased a paper cup full while out and about, unless they were on a road trip and they stopped at a convenience store or a gas station.  Kids never touched the stuff.  The flavor options were coffee or *checks notes* also coffee.  Nothing looked like a milkshake.  Somewhere along the way, all of that changed.  I think the seed may have been planted where Cas and I were yesterday morning.  We visited the original Starbucks.  Home of the Carmel Macchiato.  Land of the ubiquitous paper cup.  Spot that has elementary aged kids demanding coffee.  I don’t know how I feel about that one, honestly.  Little kids have favorite Starbucks orders.  Seems wrong, somehow, but I can’t put my finger on it.  When I was a little kid, that was just as much a grown up beverage as beer or wine.  I wanted nothing to do with coffee, and to reinforce that, my grandfather would assure me that coffee would, “put hair on your chest.”  I didn’t 100% believe him, but the idea was still unappealing for a little girl, I assure you.  

But we’re here in Seattle, birthplace of Starbucks and reason so many kids have a favorite Frappuccino.  So we had to visit.  Perhaps it was a bit of rebellion, but we both got their signature Pike Place drip coffee.  Plain, unadorned and really, quite good.  It was utterly necessary, though.  I mean, when in Rome, right?  

Anyhow, after that, we took another stroll through Pike Place Market, our Pike Place coffees in hand.  This time, I got a decent photo of the guys throwing the fish.  It’s very silly, and I don’t know if it makes the seafood taste better, but they seem to enjoy tossing the fish about when preparing to wrap it up and complete a sale.  It was cute.  

After that, we headed to a monorail station.  Seattle has a light rail, a monorail and a decent bunch of buses, but the monorail goes from a spot right next to our hotel to the famous Space Needle.  And we had timed entry tickets.  We got to the end of the monorail line and hopped off.  We instantly saw the option to visit the Chihuly Garden and Glass exhibit.  Our Space Needle tickets were actually combo tickets, so we started our adventure with the cool glass sculptures.  We managed to walk in within a few minutes of a free guided tour, and that was very interesting.  Dale Chihuly is an interesting guy, and if you have ever seen a light fixture or a tabletop sculpture out in the world somewhere that looks like a Medusa head full of glass tubes, that’s either him or someone he inspired.  It was a really neat collection, culminating in a “glass house” and a garden.  Everywhere you look, there was interesting blown glass art.  The garden had flowers and grasses interspersed with the art, causing me to wonder about how one gets a job as a gardener there.  Must be pretty competitive.  

After the beautiful glass museum, we stepped into the Museum of Pop Culture.  There was some truly cool stuff- a fragment of a burnt-up-and-smashed Jimi Hendrix guitar, a rhinestone studded James Brown outfit- and there was a lot of stuff I flat didn’t care about.  Cas and I got rid of our cable TV when we moved in together, and I have not kept up with a single Kardashian.  I didn’t find the performance outfits of various pop stars as interesting as I was supposed to, I guess.  It was a cool museum, but a lot of pop culture has passed me by.  I’m fine with that, if you want the truth.  

But the Museum of Pop Culture, was overall pretty interesting, if for no other reason than its unique architecture.  And it closed at five.  Our tickets to the Space Needle were timed at 6:15.  (I tried for a sunset-adjacent time when booking back in Dallas), and there was absolutely nothing to do in between.  We stepped into a food court space, and all but two of the establishments were closed.  We were thinking of a glass of wine to kill time.  We weren’t hungry, and we didn’t feel much like a cup of coffee.  It was puzzling that all of these places designed to serve food were shutting down at or before dinner time.  

So we asked the nice lady at the ticket window of the Space Needle if we could head in early.  Permission granted.  We were up top well before our appointed time, but no worries, we didn’t miss out on a beautiful sunset or anything.  Mostly because the sky was too cloudy for any beautiful sunsets to occur.  We did get to gawk at the skyline and the pretty mountains in the background for a while, though.  It was pretty neat.  

From there, we were kind of running on empty.  We took the monorail back to the neighborhood where our hotel is, and Cas found a nice restaurant where they served us some very yummy dumplings and some nice Jasmine Tea.  It was exactly perfect to round out the day, and we’re all set for another bit of adventure today.  

Oh- today- yeah.  Since our trip started late, Cas called the airline and then spoke with the hotel staff.  We pushed our flight to Friday and added another night on here, so hooray!  We get another day in Seattle!  Which is just fine, because we originally packed for that many days, anyway.  Funny.  

But here we go.  Off for more adventure.  I wonder if there’s a spot around here where I can grab a cup of coffee…

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

I see food, I eat it

The old joke, of course, is about a seafood diet.  You see food, you eat it.  If you look at this trip so far just in terms of what we’ve eaten, everything came from the water.  Hey, when you’re from someplace that is nearly 300 miles from the gulf coast, you go get seafood when you’re sitting at a table, overlooking the Puget Sound. Yesterday began with a mission to have a the crab omelet at Lowell’s.  They pride themselves in fresh crab, folded into fluffy eggs with some tomato and parmesan to round out the party.  We arrived at the Pike Place Market on a mission to find this delicacy, and on the way, we saw the vendors  and booths, all set up to sell fresh seafood, flowers, produce and other items.  It had the charm of a permanent farmers market, set up by the water.  It was very cool.  We also took a few steps down from there to see the famed gum wall, which was quite disgusting.  We actually didn’t enter the alley space that was coated in chewed bubblegum, but we paused at the entrance to take a photo.  That was plenty, thanks,

We also stopped for a moment back up at the main level of the marketplace to watch the famous fish throwing, but unfortunately, there were too many people in the way for me to get good photos.  Maybe we return today.  

From there, we made our way to the ferry departure point, heading to Bainbridge Island.  It was a very efficient way to get to the island, and when we arrived, we found it charming and welcoming.  We checked out a local winery, walked to a cute bar and grill and shared a salmon burger unlike anything I have ever eaten before, then headed to their art museum for a quick stroll through a few exhibits before hopping the ferry back to Seattle proper.  From there, we started our city bus journey.

Using public transportation in a place you’re visiting gives you a different lay of the land.  When you ride a city bus, you see regular folks, just trying to get to and from work or school or wherever they’re headed.  These are the locals who use this mode of transport every day, and it gives you a different feel for the place.  It’s a juxtaposition- in one moment, you’re craning and standing on your tippy-toes to see a man throwing a fish for the benefit of tourists, and in your next act, you find yourself watching commuters, heads buried in their phones, just trying to get home.  And if you’re lucky enough to travel with Cas, you have someone on your side who is good at planning these things and somehow manages to be in the right place at just the right time.  

When our bus odyssey concluded, we were steps away from Ivar’s. Ivar apparently has many locations in the area, and we were at the one most geographically favorable to Jerone and Sara.  We got there a little early- mostly because that’s when the bus showed up- and we asked for a table for four.  We determined we’d wait at the bar until the rest of our party arrived, and when they did, we apparently miscalculated.  Jerone’s son Alex joined us for dinner.  He got tall when Cas and I weren’t paying attention.  Aside from Alex’s dramatic height change, Jerone and Sara looked exactly the same.  Time has been kind to them- or maybe it’s the Pacific Northwest.  

Again, because of course we did, Cas and I had seafood.  I got a seafood sauté with a little bit of everything in it while Cas had a salmon that was probably swimming near the restaurant that morning.  It was a great meal and a great time to catch up with my old colleagues from my high school teaching days.  They’re both still teaching, working at two different private schools in the area, and still pretty happy to work with kids.  I get it.  

Here’s how the crew looks now- Alex is the obviously super-tall one in the middle…

But that was our Tuesday and the see-food diet we enjoyed.  I think today we are planning a cuppa coffee at the original Starbucks in the morning, and we have our timed entry tickets for the space needle at sunset.  There’s also a few things we have planned in between, but more on that later.  Time to get out of this hotel room and see about some food.  

And once again, here are the photos: tinyurl.com/DunlapSeattle

Top o’ the mornin’ to ya’

We made it!  We got to the airport yesterday with boarding passes that showed no seat assignment.  The flight was overbooked.  They offered compensation to anyone who was willing to make a deal, and that earned Cas and me the aisle seats on the back two rows of the airplane to Salt Lake City.  I was one row ahead of him.  Of course, our original tickets featured us sitting next to each other straight through to Seattle, but at this point, we just opted to get here however we could.  Good news, bad news- I got a lot of my new book read, but the guy behind me was pretty distracting.  

When we got here, we stepped off the airplane and walked to the light rail station.  The whole walk was under a roof, which makes sense given what I understand to be the typical weather around here.  We bought transit passes and boarded the train without presenting them or swiping them in any way.  Felt a lot like we got a free ride.  In Dallas, there was a fare enforcement check on the Silver Line, but in Seattle, we just hopped on with the shiny, new cards in our pockets.  Perhaps we’ll find use for them today.  

It was a long day of travel yesterday, so we were in low power mode- at least, it was Heather and Cas low power mode.  We only walked a few large blocks to get to a rooftop bar where we had a cocktail and a sandwich and saw as much of the sunset as the Pacific Northwest clouds would let us see.  We sat high up, looking out over the water and to the mountains in the background on one side, the Pike Place Market on the other, and enjoyed the view.  When you live in Dallas, you get really excited about places that have natural beauty.  I guess we weren’t alone, because we ended up in the nicest chat with two women from Houston.  Apparently, being from Houston leaves you just as hungry for natural beauty as being from Dallas does.  But that’s the day- it was a long one.  We got back to our room with aspirations for a much more interesting day today.  No layovers, now separate seating- just bouncing around Seattle with my guy.  Here’s a great pic of us at The Nest, which is a rooftop bar with nice cocktails and a good poached tuna sandwich!

It’s almost time to get started today.  It’s St. Patrick’s Day, and in all of the stopping and starting, I somehow forgot to pack a single green thing to wear.  Hope that doesn’t come back to haunt me . We have a ferry ride in the works and a trip to have some extremely authentic Starbucks coffee.  Should be a good one, and this evening, we’ll have a nice dinner with Jerone and his wife Sara.  Hooray! Off to go explore, and top o’ the morning to ya’!  

By the way- here is the photo album I am sure you were anticipating: tinyurl.com/DunlapSeattle 

Lemons to lemonade

So, when you have a weather-related cancellation on a Saturday, there are a couple of things that happen.  First, you are rarely the only one facing that challenge, and second, that throws off other travel well beyond your original flight.  Makes sense- I mean, there was a plane, a pilot and a whole flight crew that didn’t get to Seattle with us, so they were not where the airline planned for them to be on Sunday.  I expect it was a similar situation that left us in Dallas yesterday.  All the folks who missed traveling on Saturday tried for the few flights Sunday- anyhow, here we are, sitting at gate E-13 on a Monday morning.  

It did give us the opportunity to have a beautiful, sunny Sunday to go and play.  We went to old downtown Carrollton and saw a very funny production of Arsenic and Old Lace at Pocket Sandwich Theatre and had a light lunch at the Three Nations Brewing patio.  It was all capped off with a visit to the amazing candy shop that’s located in the downtown square.  Considering we got stuck at home in Dallas for the second day in a row, we certainly made the most of it.  

That leads us to this morning.  We were well prepared for departure when Jeff showed up to drive us to the train station.  We’d had a few days to remember little details we may have otherwise forgotten to pack.  So, lemons have become lemonade, and we’re at the gate.  So far, the digital display near us says everything is on time.  I shall re-cross my fingers just as soon as I finish typing with them.  

Also of note, the DART Silver Line.  That was a slick way to get here.  We left the UTD station at 8:36 am and arrived at our seats here in old E-13 an hour and 15 minutes later.  Not too shabby.  And the train dropped us at the farthest spot from this particular terminal, so we used the airport’s loop tram to get here.  Pretty dang efficient.  Lemonade.  This is now the official, Heather and Cas approved way to get to the airport.  Change approved.  

Here we are, waiting for the train:

And for one more lemons-to-lemonade situation, it got cold in Dallas last night.  It was 36 when we were waiting for the train, and my weather app said it was 46 in Seattle right at that same moment.  And they hadn’t seen the sun rise yet.  So, yeah.  Who would have thought it would be smart to go from Dallas to Seattle in March to warm up?

Anyhow, we’re at our gate and I am skeptically glancing at the “on time” sign with a blend of hope and doubt that I think may be completely understandable at this point.  We’ll check in (hopefully) from the Pacific Northwest, folks!  Wish us luck!  

Seattle by way of Paris

So many pieces have to work seamlessly to get to a place. You have to arrange transportation.  That transportation has to function correctly.  You have to be in the right place at the right time to make it all work.  And if there’s an airport-threatening weather event at your destination, you may as well hang it up.  You could be having the sunniest day on your street in your neighborhood, but if the place you’re headed is not navigable, just stay home.  

That was the case last night.  We were supposed to be leaving our house at 4am to get to the airport and head out of town, but last night, we got a notification that our flight was cancelled.  No worries, we thought- we’ll just take a different flight.  Except that it was so many flights that were cancelled.  There was terrible weather on the way, and nobody in their right mind would land a passenger airplane there.  

Fair enough.  We can take a hint.  We’ll sleep in.  But first- what about Paris?  Cas’ StepDave had a birthday in February, and we gave him a pair of tickets to a show in Paris, Texas on Pi day.  Today.  March 14.  Well, he loved the idea, and was only disappointed that we couldn’t go along.  So we drove to Paris, bought a second set of tickets to the same show, and are coming to you now, live from the Fairfield Inn.  Life is funny, you know?  Tomorrow, we drive back to Dallas in the morning, grab a different (already packed) bag and hop on the DART Silver Line to DFW Airport.  It will be our first experiment with DART to the airport since the new line came into service.  

Then, it’s on to Seattle, where we hope the weather has begin to calm down and cooperate.  But until then, Bonjour, ya’ll.

Origin stories

Every super hero in the movies started somewhere.  Bruce Wayne saw his parents killed as a child and dedicated his adult life to secretly fighting crime dressed in his Batman costume.  Spiderman was bitten by a radioactive spider or something.  There is always a beginning.  There is always a reason why they are who they are.  It's how the archetype works- they all have an origin story.  

But every couple has one, as well.  Some couples meet at work or at school.  Some meet on dating platforms before they meet in person. Some meet in a living room, then at a bar, then at a restaurant, then finally figure it out.  Our radioactive spider, so to speak, is a man named Jerone.  

Say hi to Jerone.

Jerone was a student at Tulane who made friends with a guy named Chad, who is now my brother-in-law.  Jerone was a computer science teacher at WT White High School when I was a teacher there, and at some point, he invited me to a party at his house, no doubt, with the intent to introduce me to the sibling of his college pal.  He saw something that I think it took Cas and me too long to figure out.  I'm sure  that's why he invited both of us to the party, then later to a bar for drinks with a large group, then finally, and probably in total exasperation, to a Cajun-themed restaurant to celebrate his birthday.  

When the tumblers finally clicked into place, Cas and I became inseparable.  Jerone is our origin story.  He's our launch from Krypton.  And he lives in Seattle, Washington, now.  

I told you that to tell you this: Spring break will be in Seattle this year.  We go soon- this coming weekend- and we have a few days afterward to get our lives together- at least together enough to finish out the school year.  

So let's settle in with a cup of Starbucks- maybe grill a little Puget Sound salmon- and head to the Pacific Northwest.  Should be a good time, and as I'm told they say there, it's not raining that hard.  See you there, friends!