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Hotel View
View from dorm room. Gratefully, the wind had changed overnight and the room was not as hot and stuffy as previously. The thing with sleeping in a dorms you never know who you are going to wake up with! It reminds me of a few occasions from my drunken youth.
It being Sunday morning, I had the kitchen to myself as the rest of the guests must have been out later than I was. I spent a good half hour writing up yesterday’s blog but mistakenly hit the wrong button and lost everything. When will I ever learn to hit the SAVE button more frequently instead. I know the second draft is not the same as the first, with some details forgotten and new ones added. Better save what I have just written, just in case…
There. Done.
After a few cups of my “claque dans face” tea to get me going, I went down to the snack counter for a repeat of yesterday’s breakfast. What to do today to kill time before catching the bus out to the airport at 2 pm. I decided I would just walk around the residential areas. It seems as if Sunday is family day as
Harbour View
From dorm room. there were many out and about, riding bikes or pushing strollers. There was still a strong wind in areas exposed to the water but at least it wasn’t raining.
There are many parks around so I could sit down and rest frequently. I headed back to the tourist area to find a restaurant for my last meal on the island. I got frustrated looking for something under $20 and finally went into an American style burger joint. I was attracted by the 60’s rock and roll wafting through the door. That was all they served. Burgers with various combinations of topping. True to form, the thin dry patty was served on a bun that had passed its best before date. The fries were of the frozen variety. I can still taste the meal 5 hours later.
While waiting for the bus, I watched a couple of unopened beer cans on a stone wall. They had been abandoned by a tourist catching the shuttle to the airport. They were still there 45 minutes later. The young guys were still sleeping off last night’s partying.
The shuttle van took us to the bus terminus near the domestic airport where we transferred to a regular bus for the 40 minute drive out to the international airport. It was a different route than the one by which I had arrived. We went past a few isolated hamlets perched on the volcanic rock. There were a few farm where soil had accumulate. Also a fair sized fishing village with some trawlers tied to the dock.
I was being very careful to listen to announcements, not having my guardian angel (the good wife) there to make sure I didn’t miss my flight like Hong Kong back in March. As it was, I couldn’t find my gate and was misdirected by airport staff on two occasions. I arrived just in time. The ground crew had to call the shuttle bus back to take me out to the plane.
A few last impressions. Things are very expensive, even those products that are produced locally. Wages must be high. Almost everybody speaks English and I heard a number of different accents. Occasionally some English phrases crept into the conversation. No “Office of the Islandic Language” here. (A dig at the Quebec government’s strategy to preserve the French language for those of you who do not follow Quebec politics).
Fun fact. I read in a museum exhibit that 80% of the female DNA in Iceland can be traced back to the British Isles. Male DNA is 70% Norwegian. I guess the Norwegian Viking women back in the 700’s didn’t want to go for a row in the boat so the men must have raided Britain on their way westward.
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