God Morgon from Iceland. I'm going to have to post this later because, call me crazy, $76 for one hour of internet access seems excessive, and that's the going rate here at the Reykjavik airport.
Our flight on IcelandAir was on-time. That is about all we can say. The legroom/accommodations were of the Southwest Airlines variety – that is, cramped, uncomfortable and conducive to a lot of clock-watching. I ate some meatballs they served on the plane, which I regretted ever since (battling a sour stomach with Tums). But obviously you get what you pay for.
As I sit here, bleary eyed and exhausted, I can't help but think of my first memory of Iceland. I was seven-years-old and looking at the laminated world map I used as a place-mat. I remember asking my dad, “is it a big chunk of ice?” My brother, Adam, grinned, before coyly replying that it indeed was made from ice and even floated. My dad eventually broke Adam's fun and told me he'd heard Iceland was a beautiful place.
It's about 35 degrees Fahrenheit, and very rainy outside. We sat next to a nice doctor from Las Vegas who said he saw a special on Iceland on the History Channel and decided to fly here on a whim. He seemed pretty road weary.
Our flight to Stockholm is about to board, and off we go!
-CGL
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