10:30am and the sun still isn't up

This is a very rare occasion in which the title of my post is not some clever summary of its content...I'm sorry to disappoint, I just had to reflect on Iceland's endearing geographical anomaly. The sun setting early isn't so strange, as Saratoga often rids of the sun by 4-ish, but waking up at 9am in the darkness of midnight is a strange experience. Also, I'm sure many of you know that "Conquer the day" feeling you get when you manage to wake up and be an active member of society before 7am...the dim late morning makes me feel significantly more productive and proactive than I actually am...curses, false sense of improvement!

Evan and I were given a whole apartment for our stay, due to an extremely big-hearted family-friend of Caitlin and Maik. An unexpected generosity, Evan and I set out to stock our temporary kitchen with all the proper necessities (jk, here's a picture of a sheep's head in the corner store down the street):



Icelandic stereotypes aside (for now), we explored the snowy, blustery streets of Reykjavík and found shelter in a Never-Ending Story-style used book store





This is actually the same used book store that Bobby Fischer used to frequent during his exile in Iceland. To be honest with you, I'm not really sure whether his life is common knowledge or not. I had no idea that he peaced out to Iceland and that the Icelandic government granted him full citizenship for "humanitarian reasons," but everyone here seems to know a whole lot about it so I'm going to leave you all with an underwhelming summary of his Icelandic history (see above) and a convenient link to his wikipedia page: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bobby_Fischer

i have completed a puzzle of a heathen grave

Evan and I meandered around Reykjavík, down to a small lake beyond Alþingi, the Icelandic Parliament. The whole lake was frozen over and, despite its beauty, a lot of the trash in the lake rose to the surface, forever(ish) imprinting itself in the ice. Nonetheless, it was pretty and I have a picture to prove it. So there.



Our presence alerted the locals, and they quickly came over to investigate



But upon reviewing our breadlessness they were no longer amused and moved on



Here's a thing! (A small frozen pond with stairs leading somewhere. Description=eloquent, no?)



We went through the Icelandic National History Museum. Or the National Museum of Iceland? Iceland's Museum of Nationality? National Museum of History in Iceland...? This: Þjóðminjasafn Íslands. It was very interesting, and we learned lots. For instance, did you know Iceland did not have buttons for clothing until 1984?? That's only sort of true.

Here's Evan as an intimidating, plundering, no-regrets viking:



Here's Julia as a viking whose head is too small:



Did you know Icelanders wear hats sometimes? They also sometimes do not wear hats.





I'm not sure if this is a "Truth or Dare"/"Never have I ever..." kind of question, but I can confidently say that as of two days ago I have! Did you know Icelanders refer to themselves as heathens? They don't, except this time I guess.

Did you know that Iceland invented the beard? They didn't. But for some reason this was a big exhibit.



This is the single barber's chair that every Icelander uses. They only get one haircut/shave every two years, so it's kind of a big deal.



That's not true either.
I apologize, this post wasn't very informative...but now I must go make skyrkaka, a cheesecake-type dish made with Skyr!:






By the way, that's Skyrgámur (Skyr-Gobbler), an Icelandic Yule Lad who has a special affinity for skyr. Instead of Santa Claus they have 13 [terrifying] yule lads that range from "mere pranskters to homicidal monsters who eat children" (Quoteth Wikipedia). They come one by one down the mountain (I don't believe there's any particular mountain, just THE mountain) around Christmas time and hang out until January. Ketkrókur (Meat Hook) arrived today. He steals meat. With a hook. ...Iceland.

...And then I came back

So I'm here, doing that whole "Iceland" thing again. I realize I never truly followed up on my Reykjavík post, but I'm sure most of you (Hi, Mom!) have heard me blather on about the entire trip at this point so let's pretend that lapse in blogging never happened!

Evan and I got into Reykjavík Sunday morning, and by Sunday afternoon we were off with Þórður and Caitlin to þórður's summer house. I'm not entirely sure where it was, but you could see the volcano Hekla from the hot pot...so I have supplied you with a very scientific map to give you an idea of where we were:



So, yes, we were a little bit north of that lil green bull romping through the water and a smidge west of what can only be described as an inescapable fiery doom.

We spent most of the night sitting in the hot pot and desperately searching for the Northern Lights (sadly they did not make an appearance). Our hair froze in the cold wind, and the icy steps to the tub made for a treacherous adventure, but it was absolutely worth it in every way.