Just got about five hours of sleep, so I guess that’s me done for the day. I’m gonna check my itinerary to see when the forced heartiness of the welcome to the tour is going to be thrust upon me.
All the electronic bits and bobbles work – charging etc accomplished with difficulty or heating up too much; unfortunately those world-class ratfondlers at Bell Mobility TURNED MY ROAMING ON THE INSTANT I MADE LANDFALL.
I’ve tried everything to get it turned off, but each time I turn the phone back on it’s automatically locked in place at the top of my screen. So unless I want hundreds of dollars on my next bill I have to take the ****** sim card out – and manage not to lose the SOB.
NO SOAP IN THE HOTEL ROOM. Past Allegra, possibly low key remembering something from a travel site, brought bar soap. YEAH ME. I likely could buy some, but if there’s one thing I learned from a $280 taxi ride, it’s that everything in Iceland is so expensive that it’s pointless being angry about it — it was worth it, candidly, just to not have to drag my bags any farther — KEF is a nightmarish little airport AND THEIR FUCKING INFO SIGNS DO NOT SHOW THE EXIT OR WHERE YOU GET TAXIS since the place is designed to run you past every excuse to strip your bank account. The blonde woman taxi driver spoke better English than most Canadian politicians, which, now that I ponder it, is likely not the highest praise. ONE error in usage in a 45 minute ride? Which I have heard native speakers make? Cazart. However since my Quaker, Mennonite and atheist forebears would rise up in a body unless I got the cheapest way back to the airport, that’s what I’m planning for the return ride; the bus system in Iceland is pretty damned good.
Although tourists will pay a set fee (thousands of dollars) to get DRIVEN AROUND ICELAND on the ring road. The driver loves those – you just go home for the day afterward, you’ve made as much as you’re going to.
At the end of the ride – tips don’t happen in Iceland – I was desperate for some token to show her how much fun I had talking to her – I took the little button from the Daagerad brewery in Burnaby which I’ve had on my bumpack since Paul and I went there last and told her, it’s advertising but it doesn’t have any words on it and she said IT’S A MOON!!! and put it on her lapel. If you go to the bottom of this page you’ll see the moon and star design – the button was in black and copper.
I didn’t get her name. Bad me. But she said, just as I was getting out of the taxi, that as I had lumbered up to the taxi stand (thank you JESUS I’m out of KEFLAVIK airport) one of the *other* woman taxi drivers said to my driver “That looks like a very interesting person,” which you know, from a taxi driver isn’t necessarily praise.
Anyway, I send up a beautiful prayer for her because tomorrow she’s cleaning up the lingering mess from having her storage locker burn down, including trying to recover baby pictures. I was so tired and emotional I nearly burst into tears when I heard that.
I hope they give the housekeepers ear protection, I need it for the vacuum noise which I honest to god thought was a pressure washer being used indoors, but is just the vacuum being thrashed about upstairs.
Man, I feel better for having had a shower. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna dress and wander over to the Saga Museum and possibly get something to nosh on the way back, since I haven’t had anything substantial since 5 pm Vancouver time yesterday. After I check the itinerary, of course. Can’t miss the mixer that inevitably starts these dos.