The Snaefellsness Penisula is a calming, gentle place where one can watch the waves in-between taking short hikes to a waterfall or volcanic crater. There are also a few trails linking up the tiny traditional fishing villages dotting the coast. The food is good too. Expensive, but delicious with fresh fish readily available. It left us wanting to go back.

We later drove to Rejkavik where we were reunited with our backpacks. The car we chose for our second Icelandic road trip was a bit too cozy for our tastes. So we reached out to our final Airbnb and asked if we could drop off our empty backpacks. For some reason he said yes and they were waiting for us in our room. He also was generous enough to lend us an air pressure gauge and compressor (the check tire pressure warning came on while we were in a tunnel several feet below a fjord- luckily it doesn’t seem to be a big deal). We also had some trouble with the Smart TV. Put it altogether and this makes us incredibly needy Airbnb guests.

So these are the final days of our epic summer adventure. Ain’t over yet but I am planning out what movie to watch on the flight home.

The party continued at a different campsite and again well into the night. Beginning to lose my patience with Commerce Day. The woman camping next to us, a solo traveler from Australia, also lost her patience and together we confronted the party (loud music, crazy screaming and for some reason animal noises like that of a pig being slaughtered) around 1 AM. In no particular order they were 1) young 2) adamant about explaining that this was a three day holiday 3) blind drunk and 4) very loudly apologetic. We left satisfied that moving forward they would be a bit more considerate. And they continued the party for another hour.

It was our last night camping which meant a sad goodbye to some of our favorite, but yet utterly useless things accumulated over the past month. Goodbye two pillows from IKEA. Not the best of pillows but at least there was no assembly required. Goodbye also to the big lentil soup in a box idea. It just never came to be. A fond farewell also to the oversized insulated box thing that did not successfully hold ice. We were better for knowing you but are even better now without your cumbersome bulk.

took a detour from the Ring Road to follow a fjord straight north to the Arctic Sea. The road was mostly paved but involved several one lane tunnels. These tunnels, where lights come at you with no room left or right to go (there are of course many turn offs but they are less frequent than you might expect), are the stuff of nightmares. The bridges here are also mostly one lane which begs a question. Just how much money does Iceland save by keeping bridges and tunnels to one lane? Like is this the necessary cost for universal health coverage?

This detour took us back to the small town of Varmahalo where we camped for one of our last times in Iceland. The campground in Varmahalo is pretty much like every campground except that they have a jumping pillow (no thanks) and a communal fire pit (yeah!). There also is a small woods surrounding the campground which I periodically mined for more fuel. We warmed ourselves there with a nice Icelandic family before a group of twenty something Icelanders chased us out with loud music from a giant speaker dragged into the pit. The music, horrible disco like music in Icelandic, rocked every corner of the campground. We softly complained about it to the campground worker who came by to collect our fee (this was about 10:30). He assured us that the music would be shut off by midnight. Until then he suggested we join the party.

It is not always so easy to join the party. But we do our best. Meanwhile we wish everyone the happiest of Commerce Days which occurs the first weekend of August. It is Iceland’s last grasp at Summer which most kids returning to school on Tuesday. I have about a week longer before I return back to school where it will be nice to see friends and bore them with stories about this trip. But a part of me will still want to be at the party however loud it may be.

Nicknamed the “Capital of the North,” Akureyri is the largest town outside the Rejkavik area. Akureyri, like the national forest we visited a few days ago, is something best enjoyed toward the end of a long Icelandic road trip. The multiple grocery stores, fun town center and modest city museums might make for a fun diversion if driving through Iowa. But for us now, in the final days of our epic summer road trip, it is an oasis we would rather not leave.

View from the Nonni House (built in 1850 it is one of the oldest houses in Akyueri)

Oh the things we have seen over the past few days. There have been reindeer (maybe twenty running together in a tight formation over a hill) and sulfur bubbling from the earth with common sense the only barrier between us and a nasty scalding. And lots of waterfalls. So many waterfalls. But maybe the most magical moment for us was a simple stroll through the woods just outside of Egillstaoir where we picked berries and gawked at mushrooms. It was the first grove of trees Henna had seen in over a month.

Honestly though, the last few days driving along the Ring Road offered up some of the most stunning scenery of the whole summer. This in a summer spent almost entirely in Iceland or the American West. It might take some time to make sense of it all. But for now we rest, last night and tonight, at a very nice Airbnb in Akyueri where we will sort through our photographs before beginning our last few days in Iceland.

Camping along the Ring Road is a lousy way to meet Icelanders. Pretty much everyone, including those working at the campground, are from everywhere but Iceland. Not as many Americans here either. What you do have are a lot of cyclists, campervans (this is true everywhere in Iceland) and a few hitchhikers. People check in late at night and then crowd the inside communal area to cook feasts of processed sausages and noodles. We also now have night. Or at least something in-between twilight and dark. There are no stars out but town lights illuminate the sky. It is the first sign that summer is beginning to lose its grip.

Vestmannaeyjar is a good size town that once was almost obliterated by a volcano. It was January, 1973 when a volcano suddenly erupted on Heimaey Island. Several feet of volcanic ash immediately covered the entire town of Vestmannaeyjar (the only population center on Heimaey). Then the lava began pouring out at a remarkable speed. The entire town was evacuated as several hundred homes were incinerated. Sea water, with pumps donated from several countries, pumped over the lava which likely prevented the town from losing its harbor.

Today Vestmannaeyjar is a lovely town 45 minutes by ferry from the mainland of Iceland (with the ferry about forty-five minutes from Rejkavik). It is a small island with every road circling back to itself. They have puffins. Lots of puffins which nest on the cliffs surrounding the town. There also is a state of the art sea animal shelter which presently houses two beluga whales. Although presently in an aquarium, they spend approximately four months out of the year in a custom made outdoor pen which is a big upgrade from their previous digs in Shanghai.

There is a massive music festival coming to Vestmannaeyjar later this week. Crowd estimates varied from ten to twenty thousand concert goers. Supposedly every square inch of the island will be used for camping. For the two nights we were there, however, it was a very sleepy existence with us spending quite a lot of time in the communal kitchen area reading or playing cards. While there we met a cool politician from Rejkavik. A former kindergarten teacher she partially drew her inspiration to change career paths from following the exploits of the Chicago Teachers Union. She volunteered this immediately after hearing we were from Chicago. Amazing the people you meet away from home.

It is hard to figure out what exactly to get a newborn volcano. From what we can gather from movies, appropriate gifts usually involve some sort of human sacrifice (see Joe Versus The Volcano). But today’s woke world frowns upon capturing a person then forcefully throwing them into an erupting volcano. So this left us with either lugging up a bottle of wine (which would then immediately just boil in the lava) or an Amazon gift card. In the end we went with a $25 Etsy gift card. We hope Fagradalsfjall will use it to purchase something nice, like hand woven Peruvian mittens or something.

Feels good to be back on the same island as Henna. We are now resting up at an amazing Airbnb in Rejkavik (it has a solarium!) before we head off with Henna to tackle the Ring Road. This will begin the final chapter of our summer adventures. Sunset here in Iceland is now before eleven with the sky darkening to a definite twilight. Maybe we will be lucky enough to see an Icelandic star before we leave.

In Paris we stay at a super tiny studio apartment in the Montmartre neighborhood. A little bit above us is the Bascillica which is one of the most visited spots in Paris. But where we are, a few blocks from the Jules Joffrin stop (Metro Line 12) it is mostly local, almost entirely French speaking. But slowly over the past few days we have acclimated to the point where I only sometimes come back with hot chocolate instead of the cappuccino Corey requested. I actually no longer frequent that boulangerie (bakery). I now go to the closer boulangerie  where the nice woman greets me with an enthusiastic “Good morning!” before giving me what I want and not what I order.

Paris is quite simply the most beautiful city in the world (or at least the most beautiful city we have ever visited). It is also one of the happiest cities we have ever visited. At least that is what it seems like on the surface; our inability to speak French greatly limits our dive into the culture pool. But at cafes or at the cinema or wherever everyone is always so engaged with one another. Couples cuddle everywhere and even the smoking is done with affection. We have no idea what anyone is saying but we so do want to be part of the conversation.

One successful dive into the French pool of life was our fun day with local guides Kristine, Francoise and Pierre. Last year we gave them Covid. This year it was just bad jokes and a lot of questions about French history (both from me). They in turn showed off the charms of Saint Vincennes (it has a castle!). Mostly we drank and played cards within a fun outdoor space located within an ancient woods. Afterwards they escorted us through the woods (spooky) in time to catch the Metro back into the city. We got home close to midnight which in fifty year old time is actually 4 AM.

So this week in Paris is almost complete. Thank you Mom and Dad for the Museum Pass! And thank you Chad and Alex for the pass to the Rodin Museum! We actually saw the Rodin Museum over two days which was a great way to do it. Au revoir!

The cats of Reykjavik are everywhere. By your Airbnb. Inside coffee houses. Even inside museums. Henna went to a cat cafe (a small cafe that cared for a few stray cats) and saw a neighborhood cat wander through the door. The employees working there mistook the cat for a resident and he was stopped from leaving. Henna basically witnessed a cat kidnapping.

Why so many cats? One reason is that dogs were not allowed in Rejkavik until the late 1980s. Reykjavik categorized them as farm animals. So probably no sheep either. People then grew up with cats, not dogs, and they were always allowed to roam.

Cats kill birds. Sometimes they get lucky and catch a bird napping. Other times they do things like raid nests. Outdoor cats are an invasive species that will wreak havoc with birds as well as other indigenous animals. Keep your cats indoors.

In Iceland they launched campaigns to do just that. They also passed laws prohibiting cats from leaving their human home. People did not react well to such laws. Supposedly there were actual cat protests. Imagine dozens of cats holding signs and meowing loudly. How cute would that be?

The new compromise is a cat curfew. Seriously. In many towns throughout Iceland cats need to be off the street at a certain time or else….. Not sure what else. But people in Iceland generally follow the rules so I guess there are less cats out at night.

And that is my final thought on Iceland. For now. Bonjour!