What a difference one night can make. While the Roberts’ got their sleep on, winter arrived in Reykjavik. Not just regular winter either. No, this is full on, day after a blizzard, where did I leave my car kind of winter.

The sun is out and it is a beautiful day, but that early afternoon flight isn’t looking so promising. To no surprise, as we are heading out to breakfast we get the email from Icelandair that we’re not going anywhere until this evening.

With some time to kill, we head outside into a winter wonderland. Everything is covered with a think blanket of snow, people are walking down the middle of streets devoid of vehicles, and everywhere kids are playing. The best part is, we don’t actually live here and we don’t have to shovel one bit.

As we’ve been given the gift of an extra day, it only seems right to spend it seeing something truly special. That’s right, we’re going to The Icelandic Phallological Museum. The “the world’s largest display of penises and penile parts” is a bucket list item if there ever was one, and just how lucky are the boys to be able to cross it off their list before they are even out of high school.

Where else can you see a first edition super hero comic?

Or take a call on the penis phone?

It’s pretty much all I can do to get the most studious of group through all the exhibits and into the gift shop.

They boys don’t have enough money for the good stuff, but we do find a store nearby with a wide selection of touristy knick knacks – the kind that make their way into a junk drawer within a month of returning home.

From here, there’s nowhere to go but down, and with our time running out, we start making our way to the airport. On the way, we stop in at Viking World, a small museum dedicated to the early settlers of Iceland. The big attraction is a full-size replica of a Viking ship that was discovered in Norway in the late 1800s.

After turning in the rental car, there’s nothing left to do but wait for the long flight back home. We’ve had an unforgettable time in Iceland and bring back nothing but great memories (except for the tragic loss of fun).

Following yesterday’s “adventure”, there is some support for just taking it easy today. However, we’ve seen Reykjavik already, and as this is our last full day here, it seems like a waste to not make the most of it. So, after what is easily the best breakfast we’ve had since we got here, we’re heading north to the Snæfellsnes Peninsula.

For Jules Verne fans, Snæfellsnes Peninsula is the home of Snæfellsjökull, the volcano that is the entry point for the Journey to the Center of the Earth. There is a tour there through some lava tubes, including Vatnshellir Cave, an 8,000-year-old lava tube that reaches 35 meters below the surface of the earth. This has caught the boys’ attention, so will be our primary destinations.

Along the way, we stop in the quaint little town of Borgarnes, to visit a small museum the details the history of how Iceland was settled. In addition, there is an exhibit that depicts one of the famous Icelandic tales, Egil’s saga. It’s all interesting, but much to my surprise, Joey likes it so much that he wants to buy the book. Never, in a million years, would I have expected a 13-year old boy to seriously consider spending his own money on this 782 page tome.

Books here are crazy expensive ($40 for this one, even though we can see the “U.S. $19.99” price through the sticker), so we figure it’s best to just order it when we get home.

Our stop in Borgarnes took a bit longer than expected so, back on the road we’re in a bit of a race to get to the lava tubes before they close. The last tour is at 2pm, and according to Google, we’ll arrive at 2:05. We call ahead to confirm they’ll still let us join, and with a little Jimmy Neutron driving we hope to shave a few minutes off. Of course the snow picks now to start falling…

We do make it just it time, and rushing with our helmets and flashlights, we catch up to our guide just as people are heading down into the darkness.

By the time we make it to the second level, the only lights are those we have brought with us. When we all turn them off, it couldn’t possibly be any blacker. The tunnels here are much larger than we walked through in the Galapagos Islands, but given the circumstances, there aren’t a whole lot of opportunities for pictures. That’s a bit of good news, as it turns out being trapped underground makes people look a whole lot crazier than they do on the surface (with the possible exception of Joey…).

A short drive from the caves are the Lóndrangar basalt cliffs, a pair of volcanic lava pinnacles that stick out from the sea on the coastline. It’s cold and windy (so at least one of us is a little unhappy), but the short hike to the viewpoint is definitely worth it. We have the place to ourselves so are able to relax a little take it all in – watching the waves crash against the rocks and the birds floating effortlessly in the updrafts.

Fun (or slightly loco, depending on your perspective) fact, according to our guidebook, farmers here believe the land around the basalt cliffs belongs to the elves that live on it. I checked the bottom of my shoes before getting back in the car and they looked pretty clean, so I guess they don’t like the cold either.

Having missed the glaciers at Skaftafell, it seems only logical to take advantage of the better weather here to see the glacier at Snæfellsjökull. The road looks clear and my hearty navigator is in full support of our mission to explore one of the most famous sites in Iceland.

Of course, that’s about as believable as the elves. Instead, after Mom teaching the boys a few new words, we’ve turned the car around and are headed back to Reykjavik.

With just one night left, we have decided to bite the bullet and stay in the heart of the city so that we can walk through it one last time. It turns out to be nice enough (if it’s good enough for Yeezy surely it is good enough for the Roberts’), but definitely not our style. Parking is a huge hassle and the rooms are not much bigger than the Sugar Shack. On a price per square foot basis, I feel violated.

It is a wonderful evening though, just below freezing and snow lightly falling. We find a spot to try a few Icelandic specialities (although not the really weird ones), and a small market to pick up a few things for breakfast in the morning. With a mid-afternoon departure, we have little time tomorrow to see one or two more things if the mood strikes us, but at the moment, the crew looks pretty tired, meaning our adventure may be at its end.

The goal is pretty simple this morning – get the heck out of Dodge. We’re confirmed our tour has been cancelled so rather than risk getting stuck here in Skaftafell for who knows how long, we’re making a run for it. The sun is not quite up yet and the snow has already started falling, so my safe driving consultant is on full alert mere minutes after we turn onto the highway.

There aren’t a whole lot of cars on the road, and most of the ones that are seem to be full of old ladies from Tampa, cruise control set at a blistering 25 miles per hour because they have never seen snow. On a different day, being in a parade might be nice, but not wanting a 4 hour drive to turn into 10, we need to make a move. The safe driving system is going off loudly in the passenger seat, but despite its projections for certain death, we manage to make it by safely. From that point on, the boys and I channel Jimmy Neutron, calling out “Gotta blast!” each time we need pass a car. It drives Mom absolutely crazy which, because we’re boys, only fuels the fire.

As we get closer to Vík, conditions start to get noticeably better. The snow has stopped and there is a distinctly different feel as the tires start touching asphalt. The wind is picking up though, and we know our window is going to be limited, so power ahead, making pretty good time all the way back through Hella to the town of Selfoss (one of the largest outside of Reykjavik).

On a normal day, it’s a quick 40 minutes to the capital on heavily traveled roads, so at this stage we figure we’re home free. That is, until we get 10 miles or so further down the road and see police cars blocking the highway. The route to the airport is still open though, and while it will take about twice as long, we can connect there with a major road into the city and still arrive in time to do something with the afternoon.

That plan goes south about halfway to the airport, as by that time the storm has arrived. Every road into Reykjavik is now closed. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced a major city being entirely cutoff so this definitely something new. Our only option is to hole up in a small town called Grindavík and wait for the winds to die down. There is some novelty for the boys just trying to walk outside without getting blown around, but even that doesn’t keep them busy for long.

Finally, around 4pm we’re able to get back on the road. By the time we pull into the hotel parking lot, we’ve ben traveling for 10 hours and are more than ready to just zone out for the rest of the evening. My trusty travel companion has deemed this the most stressful day ever, and since we say experiences and memories are more valuable than things, that must be a good thing, right?

Unfortunately, no pictures of today’s events as our official photographer spent the entire day with one hand on the dashboard and the other on the grab handle above her window.

We have a little driving ahead of us today as we change location to the eastern half of Iceland. Our final destination is a hotel just outside of the Skaftafell National Park which will serve as our base of operations for exploring the glaciers. There are a few places along the way we also want to see however, so after a valiant attempt to eat the last of our refrigerated goods (no more kitchens from here on out), we load up the car and say goodbye to our cabin.

Six inches or so of snow has fallen overnight, and while we do have four wheel drive, our Jeep isn’t tricked out with the latest in head’s-up display technology. Fortunately, I never travel without my my personal safety consultant, who diligently reports on my speed, road position, and potential dangers ahead (real and imagined), so as long as she can keep it up for the next 4-6 hours, we should be in good shape.

After passing Seljalandsfoss, our first stop is the Eyjafjallajökull (or as we call it, the volcano that erupted in 2010) Visitor Center. It’s a tiny little place on a farm that was evacuated during the eruption, and the highlight is probably the short film showing the impact and how the area has recovered. Judging by the traffic in the parking lot on a cold, February day, the visitor center has become a pretty lucrative side business, so there is some silver lining I suppose.

Not much further down the road we come to Skógafoss, which is apparently the second most famous waterfall in Iceland (after Gulfoss). There is a set of roughly 400 steps up the side of this one to a look out point at the top. Challenge accepted of course, but personally I prefer the views from the base.

On the way back to the highway we see a food truck with a pretty good crowd around it selling fish and chips. For the low, low food truck price of only $20 we decide to give it a try. It’s a good choice, and the Roberts boys plow through it so quickly that I’m surprised one of them didn’t vacuum up a utensil by mistake.

Next up is Vík (well, aside a brief stop at Dyrhólaey, but not much to report from there), a small, seaside town which is the southernmost in Iceland. It’s a more popular spot in the summer, but even now we’re floored by the amazing black sand beach just a few steps away.

Across from the parking lot is a large souvenir shop selling what certainly appears to be authentic Viking garb.

In addition to a few trinkets, we finally man up and buy a bag of harðfiskur, a classic Icelandic snack food that is best described as fish jerky. In retrospect, opening the bag in a closed car may have been a mistake, but once your olfactory nerves get desensitized a bit, it’s not so bad. As for taste, I don’t think we’ll be looking too hard for a place that sells harðfiskur in Redmond, but after a few pieces it kind of grows on you a bit.

For a change, the skies are clear, and despite the town being small, it has far more than its fair share of photo-worthy sights.

Fully restocked with fuel and snacks, the last leg of our journey today takes us through some pretty wide open (and of course, spectacular) scenery. Where just a few days ago we started in Reykjavik with no snow, here it is almost one Nick deep, and drifting most of the way up the wall of our hotel.

Where just a few days ago we started in Reykjavik with no snow, here it is almost one Nick deep, and drifting most of the way up the wall of our hotel.

All in all, it has been a good day, and as we check in for the night, we’re looking forward to our hike into the glacier tomorrow, followed by a few other stops along the coast. The travel gods have something else in mind for the Roberts family though, and a small sign on the reception desk is our first clue. The words “Severe Weather Advisory” can mean a lot of different things, but I think all of them are bad. Fingers crossed the purpose is to warn us that it’s going to be just too darn sunny.

Nope. Instead, they are planning on closing all of the highways in the country about 12 hours from now due to high winds and blowing snow. All plans are up in the air now. At this point we don’t know if our tour will still run in the morning (and even if it does, will we even want to hike a glacier in a windstorm), how we find out (the tour company’s office is closed for the night and opens again long after we’d need to leave in them morning to get to the meeting point in time), or even if we’ll be able to get back to Reykjavik tomorrow evening since we have no other place to stay.

On a positive note, the quintessential “calm before the storm” has cleared the skies overhead and is giving us one more shot at seeing the Northern Lights.

After such an exciting evening we’re a little slower to get up and out of the cabin this morning. Today we’re headed up to Stöng, to see the ruins of an old Viking settlement. It is a bit of a drive, but like everywhere we’ve been since leaving Reykjavik, the roads are almost empty and the scenery is amazing.

One thing we see pretty regularly are groups of Icelandic horses, often gathering right near fences that run along the highway. They’re a funny looking breed, with stubby legs that keep them far closer to the ground than horses we are used to. They seem very friendly though, and since we’re in no rush today, stop for a few pictures.

Google Maps once again does us wrong, directing us right past the turn off to Stöng and further up into the mountains. Fortunately, we only get about ten miles down the road before we realize the mistake, and the turnout gives us a great chance for some more photos. I’m sure we’ll have hundreds of pictures of snow-covered mountains by the time this trip is over, but it seems like every time we turn a corner it just gets better and better.

Resetting our maps, Google finds us a shortcut back to Stöng. The road is a little rougher, but we rented a 4×4 for occasions just like this. Mom isn’t super-excited and wants to turn around, but the boys (and their driver) are having a blast and convince her to press on. That is until she sees this sign pass by the window:

Ófært (pronounced “oh fart” as far as I can tell) sounds like the sanitized version of my navigator’s comments, and there’s no way she’s going down this road now. Despite some pleading and cajoling, nothing we say changes her mind. Finally, we agree to turn back (had we not, I swear she was prepared to lay down in front of the car to ensure we went no further), but not before letter her know she’s killing our fun 🙁

Retracing our route to the original turnoff for Stöng, we’re once again faced with warning signs. Fortunately, we’ve seen a car traveling on this road and use that to convince Mom the road can’t be that bad. Whether it ultimately was or wasn’t depends on who is telling the story, but I still blush thinking about some of the words that came out of her mouth.

Stöng is the site of one of Iceland’s earliest archeological excavations, where a Viking long house and several outbuildings were preserved under ash from a nearby volcano. It is pretty much deserted in the winter, but the buildings are unlocked and there is a guestbook inside the door so we figure it is OK to wander through.

Near Stöng is one of the main hydroelectric power plants, which offers tours to show how the process works. Or at least they normally do. According to the sign, there is some upgrading underway so no tours until late 2017. No need to worry though, as right next to the plant is a full-scale reconstruction of the settlement at Stöng. That sounds kind of interesting so we decide to check it out instead. That is until we get there and find it locked up tight. Apparently in Iceland, priceless 1,000 year old ruins are a free for all, but relatively new replicas need to be kept under lock and key. Nevertheless, sod houses are a bit of a rarity in Redmond, so it’s cool to just walk around it and see how they were built.

At this point we have nothing else on the agenda, and as we are heading back towards our cabin spot a side road with a sign that indicates some sort of historical sight. It is not in our guide book so we have no idea what it is we are supposed be looking for, but we eventually find a small parking area and a trail heading to the top of a small hill. Figuring it must be the spot, the boys and I head on up. Arriving at the top, we’re still no wiser as to the significance of this place but, once again, the views call for a photo session.

While Sam and I are taking pictures, Nick figures it would be a good idea to make his way to the tip of a small finger of rock. He’s halfway out by the time I turn around and see him, so all I can is watch and hope he knows what he’s doing (the last thing I want to do is startle him and have him lose his balance). The photo turned out pretty good…

…but like sausage, you don’t really want to see how it was made.

By the time we get close to the cabin it is still early afternoon, so rather than waste time sitting inside, we opt to head a little east of Hella, figuring we can see a few things in that direction and get them off our list.

If there is one thing that we’ve come to appreciate in Iceland so far, it’s that the weather is nice right up until it’s not (and vice versa). So far the day hasn’t been sunny, but the temperature is mild and the wind calm. Or at least that is the case until we’re 15 miles or so down the road and in the middle of a snowstorm. In any other place we might see this as a sign to turn around, but 10 minutes later it’s like nothing ever happened.

Seljalandsfoss is another famous waterfalls, and with a walking trail carved around the backside is a must see for us. As we get closer, the wind starts to pick up and the cold spray hitting your face feels like a hundred tiny needles. By the time we see the shrubs on either side of the path heavy with a thick coating of ice, my trusty travel partner has had enough. Boys are dumb though, and not only do they press on, but for the low, low price of $5, agree to stand on a rock underneath the falls for my entertainment.

With a back seat full of cold, soggy teenagers, there’s little left for us to do but head home for the day. Tomorrow we’re back on the move, heading east for Kálfafell, where we have a date with glacier.

We knocked off most of the main stops on the Golden Circle tour yesterday so today feels like a good day to slow things down a bit. There is a hot pool called the Secret Lagoon about 45 minutes away in the town of Flúðir (Fludir). According to our guide book, it is a more natural version of the concrete-encased pools in Reykjavik, so sounds like a good spot to just soak for a few hours and relax.

The real things doesn’t disappoint, and after a pass through the communal showers (which the boys find no more appealing the second time around) we sink into what otherwise would pass for an old fashioned swimming hole, just much, much warmer. All around us are smaller pools, steaming and bubbling with hot water coming from deep in the earth. There is even a small geyser that erupts every 10 minutes or so. We’ve been warned that the tours busses start rolling in around 3pm, and the sudden influx of tourists is our signal to collect our things and make a hasty exit.

We have no particular place to go so figure we’ll just explore a bit. I remembered seeing a side road of some significance on the way in, so that seems like a good place to start. At the intersection, this handy sign possibly provides some useful information about what lies ahead. However, rather than calming the nerves of my trusty navigator, it serves only to convince her that leaving the highway means getting lost and all freezing to death. With that road blocked, we instead decide to head to Hella to re provision for the next few days.

Back at the cabin, tonight looks like our best bet for Northern Lights. According to the forecast, most of the country is going to be overcast, but if our luck holds, the Southwest corner (where we are currently) will have a few hours of clear skies between 11pm and 2am. The boys have figured out the dusty Playstation 2 in the loft, and after a delicious dinner of hot dogs and pasta, have retreated upstairs to wait.

Around 11:30pm, we see the first streaks of green appear in the sky. Throwing on our winter gear, we all rush outside for a better look. Solar activity isn’t particularly high this evening, so compared to some of the brochures it isn’t much, but not knowing if the weather was going to give us the chance to see them at all, they’re perfect. The boys try to take pictures with their phones, but without the right gear, the Northern Lights are something you only really take pictures of in your mind. So there we stand – the Roberts family, bundled up against the cold a few degrees below the Arctic Circle, starting up at the night sky just trying to capture the moment.

By midnight, the lights are starting to fade and the members of our small group are starting to break off and head back indoors. We hope to get a fairly reasonable start in the morning and are just settling into bed when a bright purple streak shoots across the sky. A giddy shriek from Mom sends everyone back outside for the real show. Above us are rivers of lights, flickering and dancing like crazy. It’s unlike anything I ever saw growing up and everything we hoped it would be.

It doesn’t even come close to doing them justice, but the lights are so bright this time around that some even register on our cameras

What a spectacular way to finish our day in Iceland.

It’s back into a very full car today as we say goodbye to Reykjavik (for a while at least) and head for the interior to see the sights of the Golden Circle. Being just a short drive from the city, this is the quintessential day tour in Iceland, with busses full of blue-haired ladies making the rounds in both directions. We plan on spending the next three days in the area so will be taking things at a bit more leisurely place.

No more than 30 minutes from Reykjavik it is like we have entered another world. Signs of civilization have melted away behind us, leaving wide open vistas as far as the eye can see. Here is where our adventure really begins.

Now with no buildings here and very few trees, wind is not your friend, taking chilly temperatures and making them downright unpleasant. Grumpy cat is not amused.

Our first destination is Þingvellir (Thingvellir to us sorry folk with only 26 letters in their alphabet), a spot with both historical and natural significance. Deep under our feet, two continental plates are in motion, slowly tearing Iceland apart. At the rate of about 2cm per year, the earth here is moving in opposite directions, providing a unique opportunity to see forces of nature at work, literally ripping rocks apart.

This spot also served as the site of the Althing, where, not far from where these two goobers are standing, representatives, not far from each region on Iceland gathered for the world’s first (and now oldest) parliament.

And because I’m a sucker for waterfalls…

Next on the agenda is Geysir, the geyser from which all others geyser’s got their name. These days it is just a quiet, steaming pool with some bubbles here and there, but just a few steps away is another, named Strokkur, that erupts like clockwork every 5-8 minutes.

Last on our list for today is Gulfoss, one of the iconic waterfalls of Iceland where water from the Hvítá River seems to disappear into the earth.

Days are still fairly short here and by this time it is getting close to sunset. With the goal of finding the cabin we have booked for the next few nights while it is still daylight, we head of towards the town of Hella. As towns go it isn’t much to speak of, but with a gas station, a grocery store (creatively called The Grocery Store), and a bakery, it has everything the Roberts family requires.

Our cabin is just a short drive from town, but with the assistance of Google Maps a few wrong turns, we somehow manage to turn that into an hour long journey down a combination of back roads, and rutted gravel tracks that apparently bear enough resemblance to roads to pass Google’s exacting standards. As darkness falls, the instructions “look for a black house from the road, and just past that, turn left at the green gate” become surprisingly less effective.

On our third pass we finally figure it out and unload. Our hope is that, miles away from any city lights, we’ll be able to relax here in the hot tub at night and watch the Northern Lights overhead. We haven’t seen much clear sky since we landed in Iceland, but the forecast looks like it might cooperate tomorrow night so we’ll keep our fingers crossed.

Note to self, when confirming on AirBnB that the place you are renting has a hot tub, also ask if it has any water in it.

Our plan for a good night’s sleep and then hitting the ground running goes off the rails pretty early. Literally, in my case as I’m wide awake and staring at the ceiling at 3am, meaning by the time my oldest teenager finally emerges from his hermit hole, I’ve logged a half day and am already looking forward to a nap. On the bright side, we don’t need to worry about finding breakfast, as by the time we get into the car it is pretty much lunch.

We’ve come to the conclusion there isn’t a long list of must-sees in Reykjavik, so our plan is pretty fluid. At the airport we grabbed a couple of the tourist magazines they have near baggage claim, and number seven on their list is the Icelandic Phallological Museum. Yup, that’s pretty much what it sounds like – a penis museum, boasting the world’s largest collection of penises and penile parts (http://phallus.is/en/). Sadly, while experiences don’t get much more “once in a lifetime” than that, opposition is just too stiff, particularly amongst the younger members or our crew.

Instead we head off to Hallgrímskirkja, the largest church in Iceland. It’s tower is one of the tallest buildings in the city, and on a clear day supposedly offer a fantastic view of the city and surrounding mountains. Today, unfortunately, is not such a day. Out front, there is a also a statue of Leif Eriksson who, judging from the blank looks on the faces of my tiny tour group, is in desperate need of a better PR person.

There are a fair amount of people wandering around this part of the city, and rather than jumping back into the car, we decide to follow them down the street, stopping in souvenir shops from time to time to look for things to being back home. As cities go, it’s almost freakishly clean and orderly here, with the only real concern we have being the complete inability to understand street signs.

We eventually end up on Laugavegur street, the main shopping district and one of the other spots recommended in our books. We don’t see a whole lot that grabs our attention but, on a side street, do come across an amazing bakery where we load up on pastries.

Back in the car, we decide to take in one of the local thermal pools. While the Blue Lagoon has by far the best marketing, there are dozens (if not hundreds) of naturally occurring hot springs throughout Iceland, the vast majority of which come without the $50 entry fee. Laugardalslaug is the largest such pool in Reykjavik, with the steam rising from the geothermal activity (and not the constant fog) supposedly giving the city its name – Smoky Bay.

Thermal pools are serious business in Iceland and there is a pretty strict process for using them. The water isn’t treated with any chemicals, so before stepping in, a thorough scrub in the communal shower, sans swimsuit, is a must. Three boys, mumbling under their breath about not wanting to go to a penis museum, are not impressed.

Trauma aside, relaxing in the warm water is a good way to spend a few hours on an otherwise cold day. In addition to the hot pools, there are a couple of large outdoor swimming pools, a waterslide, and a huge indoor pool that one could have all to themselves. That said, as the main such place in Reykjavik, it is a bit on the industrial side, so once we get out of the city I suspect we’ll find something a little more natural.

Jet lag still seems to taking its toll on our intrepid crew, and an hour or two in a hot pool does us no favors. So after working our way back through the sausage barn (Mom excluded), the consensus is to head back to our room. It’s a bit on the early side again but I think we’ve managed to tick all of the items off of our Reykjavik list. Tomorrow we’ll be packing up and heading out of town to see some of the popular stops on the Golden Circle, and more importantly, getting away from the city lights to up our odds of seeing some Northern Lights.

While most sane people are taking advantage of the mid-winter school break to seek out sunshine and sandy beaches, the Roberts’ somehow decided it would be a good idea to go north. No, not to Whistler or Kelowna, which might make perfect sense, but to Iceland. In winter.

As crazy as it sounds, there is actually some logic to it. Growing up in Dawson Creek, cold winters with only a few hours of daylight were just how things worked. I don’t miss them for a second, but along with 4:00 sunsets and 40 below temperatures, on clear nights, seeing the Northern Lights was a pretty common occurrence. So much so that, as a kid, if you told me they out, I probably couldn’t have been bothered to get off the couch and take a look.

Living in Seattle, we don’t have to put up with the cold anymore, but as our kids get older (how did go from diapers to SATs overnight?), we realize there is still so much we want to show them, but so little time. On that list is the Northern Lights, and what better place than Iceland.

Logistically, it is a whole lot easier than sounds, particularly for anyone that lived through last year’s flights to the Galapagos Islands. There is a direct flight from Seattle, and following a polar route, it clocks in at just over six and a half hours, just an hour more than traveling to New York. The catch is the time change, with our oh so reasonable 3:30 departure time translating into a 6:30am arrival. A trip that short doesn’t really lend itself well to an Ambien-induced nap, so we’re a little worse for wear by the time we clear customs, pick up the rental car, and head into Reykjavik.

The past few days I’ve been watching both the weather and solar activity forecasts, and at the moment, neither are looking great. The fog and drizzle are really no surprise then, but for a tired crew, they add an extra layer of unnecessary “blah”.

Like Chile, it’s pretty slim pickings when it comes to hotels here, and the few that do exist are outrageously expensive. Given that, most of what we have booked so far has been through AirBnB, with the next two nights being half a duplex a short drive from downtown. Unfortunately, check in isn’t until 1:00pm, so with about 4 hours to kill, we head downtown in search of breakfast.

As capital cities go, Reykjavik is definitely on the petite side, with only 200,000 in the metropolitan area (however, there are only 300,000 people in all of Iceland, so in that context, it is huge). That makes it roughly the size of Spokane, although early on a Saturday morning, it feels even smaller than that. Very few people are on the streets and hardly anything seems open.

After parking the car and wandering past a few blocks’ worth of closed restaurants and shops, we settle for some snacks at the Icelandic equivalent of 7-11. We play it safe for now, but there is some funky stuff for sale here, and before we left Seattle there was a lot of big talk about trying the shark meat they let rot in the ground for six months, so we’ll see how that all goes.

What does catch our attention is just how expensive everything seems here. While the restaurants aren’t open yet, the menus are posted outside, listing $20 hamburgers, $9 milkshakes and $50 pizzas. Even a grab and go hot dog at the tiny kiosk in the park will set you back a cool $10. Multiply by five people, then by nine days, plus the heart medication I need after doing the math, and it’s hard to imagine how anyone could live here unless salaries are through the roof (which according to Google, they’re not).

With our breakfast search coming up empty, we decide to start making our way towards our hotel, crossing our fingers that they’ll take pity on us and let us check in early. Along the way, we find a supermarket where we load up on some essentials (like the always reliable noodle soup), cramming them in around the boys wherever we can find an empty space.

By this time it is just past noon, and where our day would normally just be getting started, today we’re well into the fourth quarter. Not long after we arrive at our hotel, the entire squad is sound asleep. There is a little movement around dinner time, and challenging game of english Scrabble using an Icelandic set of tiles, but no real momentum to get back in the car and explore the city.

We have one more full day in Reykjavik before moving on to the countryside, so once the batteries are fully charged, we’ll see if we can’t up our game a little.