Suddenly it's Tuesday the 10th and I'm sitting in a bus again. Two more full days in Iceland left, and I'm spending one at a horse farm and the Blue Lagoon, and the other climbing Mt. Esja with Jason. Snow appeared on the top two days ago, but he's the hostel cook so he'll bring food to tide us over if we get stuck. Hopefully he'll bring enough so we won't have to resort to eating off each other's fingers, one by one, if it comes to that. I mean, the Donner Party was cool and all, but, I'd really like to get through a week without cannibalism.
I decided about two minutes ago that I wanted to go on this tour, so I haven't washed my face, brushed my teeth, or even changed my socks. Feels great to do something spur of the moment, though I don't really know where I'll be staying the night tonight. For the first time in my frenzied day by day extensions at the City Hostel -- still haven't left it -- they don't have a bed available for me. I got Wednesday, my last night, covered, though.
Flying back to Sweden. Not particularly excited, though not particularly disappointed. This trip's been exactly what I needed -- solitary, quirky, and beautiful. From the silly old Swede Bo who works at the hostel to the fabulously eccentric road trip I took yesterday with Elijiah (San Francisco), Patrick (Lausanne, Switzerland), Simon and Mike (Limerick, Ireland). I slept in Reykjavik the entire time -- that is, if I slept at all -- but despite that I would have liked to have seen more of the country, I know I will return. With a few friends and a tent, we'll come back for a month in the summertime and just explore. One can dream, anyway.
But I haven't actually stayed in the city the whole time. Thursday, Saturday, and Sunday were city days, and the latter two in a delicious, sleep-deprived hungover daze. Reykjavik certainly dazzles in her nightlife, living up to her (in)famous reputation; everyone is just so happy. And drunk. But happy all the same. Friday night I was up until 5 AM, and Saturday until 7 AM; actually, I never saw the streets so packed as they were at these times. People don't actually go to the bars until 12 or 1 AM -- it's so expensive to drink out, about $10 American for a beer, so Icelanders get piss drunk at home and then wait in long, rowdy lines to get the chance to stumble into a dark, smoky cafe turned bar/club and dance like idiots. It's fantastically fun. At 6 AM, when most of the bars close, people stream out into the night, hailing cabs and buying hot dogs and, in my case, climbing on street sculptures and taking incredibly ridiculous pictures.
Outside the city, I went on the marathon 9-hour Golden Circle tour, the crazy rent-a-car trip yesterday up the north coast, and now this trip to a horse farm/the Blue Lagoon. Tomorrow I'll hike Mt. Esja and go to the EM-qualifying match, Iceland versus Sweden. The sweet Swedish girl at the gas station in the middle of nowhere told me about it, and then Jason sent an email suggesting he get tickets for us. Just lovely how things like this out, eh?
So, I don't really mind that I've had my base in Reykjavik the entire time. I've met terrific people and seen fabulous things, which my sleep deprivation can attest to. And now, the horse form. Let's see how long my camera battery lasts.
----- I love the effect of dilapidated buildings sitting abandoned near a desolate, raging coast.
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