Leaving Iceland

 Street life in Reykjavik.

 The only Viking I found.

The restaurant where we had our last meal.

  Street scenes in the city.

 I started with the cathedral and thought it fitting to end with it on a sunny blue sky day.

 The Saga lounge at the Keflavik Airport, coincidentally with my seatmate, Ingvi, in the photo.

Reunion.

Wednesday, August 23^rd.

Arthur and I went down to the kitchen for breakfast and ate with Mohammad. I bought a ticket for the airport bus from the hotel. Mohammad was heading to Blue Lagoon today, so we went for a walk along the main streets of Reykjavik window shopping and enjoying the beautiful sunny blue sky on this warm day. We stopped by the Punk Museum, run by a old bit player in the Icelandic punk scene that sprang up here in the late 70's. He was amusing and had set up old records to listen to, posters, histories and pictures. Interesting way to kill an hour.

Arthur left me after this as he had to pick up his laundry and move to his new hotel, as he is staying one more night.

I walked around the downtown touristy area looking for a shirt I had seen earlier. When I found it I walked back to the Aurora guesthouse and picked up my luggage. Then I walked to the bus stop where I met Fran and Patty who were also airport bound to catch their flight to the US. Somehow we missed the noon bus (we think it was mislabled) and had to wait impatiently for another hour before we got the shuttle bus to the bus depot to catch the airport bus. By the time we finally boarded the bus we were over an hour behind time. However, we got there with plenty of time to catch our 4pm flights.

I found out I had access to the Saga (first class) lounge, so I headed directly there. There was a buffet of food for lunch and free desserts and drinks too. I hung around typing until it was time to head to my departure lounge. Here is where I found out just how my Iceland and the airport are struggling to keep up with the huge increase in tourists. The airport looked like our airport at Christmas time or March break. There were people everywhere. I had to go through another passport check and the line was huge. That took twenty minutes and then trying to walk through the terminal to my departure area (at the far end of course) was difficult and slow as the area was really congested with lines of people milling around waiting for their flights. I think the must be an airport expansion in Keflavik airport in the near future.

Anyway, all good. I boarded and sat in the seat next to an Icelandic business man, Ingvi, who asked me about my trip and told me somethings about his life here. He loves the country because it is safe, clean, not pollluted, underpopulated, politically stable and beautiful. He did say however, that they are worried about the potential eruption of a super volcano here that could affect the whole world in the not too distant future. He said it could lower the temperature of the earth by a couple of degrees and the skies would be full of ash. I asked him if the local people were resentful of all the tourists. He said that some were, but he said they were shortsighted and that most realized that it was good for the country because of the growth and employment it provided.

We arrived at Heathrow after a two and a half hour flight and after walking about two kilometres through the terminal I got to customs, whereupon I met the friendliest customs officer I have ever met. The conversation went like this:

Why are you here?

To visit a friend in Exeter.

Is he picking you up here?

No, we are staying at his girlfriend's in Great Missenden.

Oh, that's good Exeter is long a long way away.

How did you meet him?

In Africa.

Were you working there?

No traveling on a tour.

Are you going home after England.

No, I'm going on to Morocco and then Africa.

How long are you traveling for?

A year.

Really?

Where else are you going?

I told her the general route.

How do you plan that? Have you arranged all your flights?

I told her about Intrepid.

After a few more questions she said she was very envious and sent me on my way with a 'safe trip'.

Intially when I exited the baggage area I didn't see John, nor he I (as he was on his phone!). Great to see him, big hug and then we were off. He told me that Denise had messaged him that my flight would be about 45 minutes late (thanks Denise!). He either misprogrammed his phone's GPS or something went wrong, because it took about twice as long to get back to Dottie's house. Sadly, her 10 year old daughter, Innie who apparently was really looking forward to seeing me again, had gone to bed as she was exhausted. But I did see Dottie for a few minutes before she too retired as she has an early morning tomorrow. John and I shared a glass of wine and then retired as well.