If you fly into Manchester often you will have experienced the pain of waiting in the baggage hall. Listening out for the tell-tale noises of the suitcase elves through the special doorway..for days.
And then you fly into Keflavik...where you'd have to run like Bolt to beat your baggage.
We did walk very fast from the plane. But more to get away from 'annoying-voice' lady from the seat next to Stu.
We then made the brave decision to walk the five minutes to collect our hire car. Rather than wait for the special yellow bus. Not such a great idea to walk on sheet ice in freezing wind. All for a Mazda. With last year's studded tyres.
It took a bloody long time getting away from Reykjavik this time. Partly down to traffic and mainly down to my poor sense of direction (after an hour of driving I noticed we were heading back towards the airport).
After four hours of snow, wind, ice in the dark with bollocksed windscreen wipers...we finally arrived at the Cube. In Grundarfjörður.
Safe to say it's cute, homely, warm and welcoming. With the promise of stunning views.
We met our host Anna this morning. And her three collies. She asked if we would like to join them for dinner this evening. But as my head is firmly in the 'saving pennies' cloud I politely declined. Only to kick myself for the rest of the day when I realised that I should have accepted. Now I feel like we snubbed their hospitality.
I'd buy her flowers or chocolates...if it wasn't for the cost. I wonder if she'd like a snowman...
We didn't get up to much today. The electricty was out on the whole peninsula this morning. And we were told to not stray too far because of gale-force winds.
The aurora forecast is low...as in not a flamin' flicker predicted tonight. Shame as it's a lovely clear night.