So here I am in Iceland, ready for a week of relaxation, hiking, geothermal pools, puffins and perhaps a ride on a pony. I'm drawn to the clean air and promise of fun people who consider sarcasm something of a sport. I left for the airport 5 hours before my flight (curse you, G20) and got here from the Beach in 25 minutes, which is pretty much unheard of. The traffic at 4:30 on a Friday was like 4 a.m. on a Sunday. I've never seen the Gardiner so deserted at rush hour. But the wait for the flight passed quickly - I met a girl named Vicki from Perth, an ex-jounro, who is travelling the world carrying, much to my envy, just one small bag. How does she manage? I bought her a bison burger
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