Cascading waters of Gulfoss, somewhere south of the capital.
Play Misty for me
Should you have listened to the odd comment we make from time to time…okay, we concede, not only odd but
frequent, you would have heard us say that we like to sweat to earn the sights we see. Today was not one
of those days. The Gulfoss waterfall, cascading in a couple of directions, powerful as all heck, fed from
glaciers up the hill, proved to be a breathtaking sight to behold. Judging by the number of tourists
visiting the area, it's not surprising to read that tourism is the premier source of exports for this
thinly populated country.
A view of Lankjokull (glacier), an enormous amount of ice and snow.
Awful amount of action at Gulfoss.
Jenni takes a glacier hop on Langjokull.
Later, we moved on taking a mountain road which had the effect of scaring off most of the tourists, the
road, that is. At the end of it, a mountaintop including the glacier Langjokull, provided an overwhelming
effect. As we froze gazing over miles and miles of snow and ice covered mountains, we could not help but
think of the politics of global warming continuing in the warm ivory towers elsewhere. We’ll move onto
steamier issues, which is appropriate with the emissions spewing from the earth in this part of the world.
Our editor mentioned today that the Icelanders love to swim. Why? We have no idea. Should we end up swimming
in this country in the middle of summer, we wouldn’t take a dip without first putting on a sweater and wooly
trousers. That’s us; this story is about the locals. She then added the custom is to swim without any clothing
in public pools. Apparently, it is inhibiting to be in a swimsuit in the water. Reminds us of Black's Beach in
San Diego, not our favorite spot.
The gang practising setting up a tent in the kids' playroom. Ellie is upset as she wanted
a pink one. Big Ben offered his two bits and said he was too busy to assist. Tough crowd.
There's work to be done but editor finds time to fool around with camera.
Back to the cascading falls.
After pitching our tent this afternoon, we decided to head for a shower because the multitudes might
storm the bathrooms. We may exaggerate a little every now and again. However, what should we expect in
the showers? We too like to shower without clothes. Therefore, if we shower in the nude in private, the
locals swim in the nude in public, what could we expect from them in the shower? We shudder to postulate.
Would the showers be unisex? We did not know. Being inquisitive, we decided to wait under the warm water
to see what would transpire. The tension began to build. What happened? Our editor put paid to our natural
inquiring mind about local customs in general in Iceland and in the shower, in particular. Unfortunately,
this local custom will remain unknown to both you and we. Any complaints should be directed firmly at the
editor’s shower door.
Beautiful but rough, tough and dangerous.
White river rafting for the Big Boys.
Our editor has become a little aggressive of late. You may have noticed that the previous blog was long on
pictures and short on words. We suppose many prefer it that way but we understand that Mom doesn’t mind
reading a few sentences, so we oblige. Anyway, we wrote a piece on the airline industry and its passengers.
If we might add, it was nothing short of brilliant. Unfortunately, our editor did not share that opinion.
In fact, she said a few people might be offended. That’s when we thought it may be a very fine piece indeed.
The boss put the red pen through the work of literature and hence, a short blog. We suppose that’s a clean
sweep for the editor today—she’s on a roll, unfortunately.
Cheers,
Jenni and Jeffrey
Golf bunkers on the top of the mountain.
'Avalanche' of water. Jen, raincoats?
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