On my fourth day in Iceland I didn’t even leave the house until 3pm. I had a bit of a solo adventure in my efforts to shake off the weird travel feels and ended up grabbing a coffee and shopping a little for a mug.
The one thing I need no matter where I go is the ability to have a nice steadying cup of tea, and instead I kept ending up with over-steeped tea in a tiny thimble that tastes like fury and disappointment.
I found success in my mug search and wandered back home to relax for a while longer. Side note: any time I say the word “relax” in this series, you can replace it with the phrase “play Pokemon” and it would be more accurate.
It was a Friday, the day when all the world of alcohol opens up and bars stay open until 4:30am, so honestly our day didn’t even begin until 11pm when we set up shop in the queer bar down the street.
If you are ever trying to meet people at a bar in a strange city, bum a cigarette from someone — you’ll be insta-friends. You don’t even have to smoke it, pretend you’re finding one for a friend if you want. My husband and I hung out in the smoking area while he smoked his ecig and we made a bunch of friends. We all had a round of shots, I believe it was Topas, which is a salted licorice liquor available in Iceland, and tagging along with our new friends to a club having a SPECTACULAR electronic night. We didn’t go to sleep till 5am and it was an epically good night.
(Google translate says its “tina nefinu” which definitely isn’t what I learned, but alas foreign phrases learned in the middle of the night after a variety of alcohols tend to fade before morning)
I’m pretty sure skipping is “valhopping” or some variation, which sounds a lot more like what skipping is than the word “skipping” in my opinion.
This isn’t goodbye, it’s see you later,