A Museum Full of What?

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.