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Despite being the one doing all the driving, Conor doesn’t really know where we’re going; I’m going to surprise him.
Kirkjubaejarklaustur is a remote one–horse town with no distinguishing features — unless you count a post office and a supermarket as “features” — but about a hundred kilometers beyond it lies a glacial lagoon, with icebergs. One minute we’ll be cruising the desolate ring–road happily singing along to Leonard Cohen and the next minute, look: a glacial lagoon!
He needs to put his pictures up on Facebook, immediately.
So the king sent all the people he didn’t like to Greenland and protected Iceland. Meaning My mother was born and raised and I occasionally visit family and drive around with awe! Now with my two children, Tristan 3 1/2 years old and Eva Soley 3 1/2 months old.
Oh yes and my husband who once visited the country in hopes of meeting a beautiful icelandic woman …
I don’t want to go traipsing around town, I’m only on my fifth latté!
And anyway, I feel it’s more important to educate Conor on some of the finer points of Icelandic living: sitting around at the pool like natives and then in candlelit bars, talking about very important things and drinking coffee. Kókómjólk is not just a chocolate-flavoured milk drink; it’s a chocolate-flavoured national institution.