Thursday, September 5

We had a good flight to Keflavik.  The plane was full of loud Americans (like us) and quiet, blond Icelanders.  Breakfast at the airport was our first encounter with Icelandic prices.  There are about 100 kroner to a dollar so that makes it psychologically even worse.  I resisted eating there after I saw that a plain croissant cost 300 kroner. But G said, "We may as well get used to it."  I saw they served fatimand looking exactly the way my Swedish Grandma Helsina used to make them--except the Icelanders call them "kleina."

We avoided the Blue Lagoon and Reykjavik and drove east on Highway 1.  The countryside by Reykjavik is especially stark--covered with lava rock.  Farther east there is moss growing on the rocks to form a bumpy green landscape.  The few trees along the way are short and spindly for the most part.

About an hour down the road we stopped at Hveragerdi, a cute town of a couple hundred people.  The town is sitting on top of a highly active geothermal field which provides heat for hundreds of greenhouses.  There are mud pots and steaming pools right in the middle of town--just behind the little cafe.  Unfortunately it was full of a bus load of noisy Americans so we found another one where I could have another kleina.  Hveragerdi has lovely paths along the river so we took a short hike--came on a pretty waterfall--and trees!  It was a beautiful day, not a cloud in the sky--50 degrees.

Then it was on to our cabin near Borg, a town of a couple dozen people.  The countryside is dotted with what they call "summerhouses"-- not a tree beside any of them.  Ours was just built this summer and turned out to be charming.  Our hostess, Svana Indridason (tall and blond, of course), met us there with the key.  The interior is very Scandinavian-- light wood contrasted with black tile floors.  Lots of windows, clean lines, modern art.  Very striking.

J and I took a walk down the country road in the evening--trying to stay awake long enough to see the Northern lights tonight.  There are cute Icelandic horses in every field!  They are short legged, furry, sturdy-looking creatures.  I especially like the brown ones with the blond manes.

No northern lights, sadly.

Here is a picture of our summerhouse near Borg.