Author Archives: Bob

Day 2: Keep moving

There was little reason to beleive that we would be able to get up the next morning after such a drawn-out travel day and be ready for a kayak tour. But these were Louise’s plans, and, sure enough, we were up and out by 10 a.m. (4 a.m. EST), and on the water of the town’s narrow harbor.

This is truly a testament to our host’s sheer force of will, and all five of us benefitted from hearing stories that covered various parts of the estuary and even some of the small islands between the banks. Taking a kayak tour was also something Louise had wanted to do for a long time, but she didn’t feel like her parents were up for the trip.

The same bridge we kayaked under a little while ago

Having seen Ahus from the water, we hopped back on land to hit a few of the spots she missed showing us yesterday. These included the city library, which has a very efficient way to process its book loans. “I don’t know why I get so excited about these things!” she said as she was checking out a book. “But I do!”

Louise even taught us a Viking yard game called Cube.

Getting excited is something Louise is very good at. She shared this skill a little later in the morning by bringing us to the famous Otto Glas ice cream stand on the town square. Most everyone was excited about this. The flavors selected ranged from pear and egg liquor, pear and melon, and elderbery with lime ripple and coconut.

You get to choose two flavors per one-scoop serving, but really you’re getting two scoops — Louise says you can get this brand of ice cream in Stockholm, but they are not nearly as generous with the servings in the capital. And it’s put in a big homemade waffle cone. And it’s all dipped in a chocolate sauce that turns into a hard shell. I’m sure you can sense the excitment this caused.

Zoe with one of the little beach houses

Next, it was back to touring. We got on our borrowed bikes and visisted the two beaches we missed yesterday. Beaches are one of the three things Ahus is best known for. The population of the city swells by a third in the summer because of all the beachgoers. We rode through several neighborhoods of homes that looked sturdy enough to live in all year, but probably were mostly used during beach season.

The water was cold, and even Louise was not excited enough to go swimming. But these two were.

Then, right on the beach, there are tiny houses that families have built decades ago. Although you can’t build new ones anymore, the old ones are allowed to stay. Louise pointed out her favorite, a white one with an orange roof that was hosting a family gathering as we walked by.

In between the two beaches we needed to portage our bikes a mile or so through a forest. Again, no complaints from anyone in our camp. It started to rain a bit. Still, we were all happy campers. The momentum of Louise’s excitement carried us all through.

After another meal at Louise’s parents’ house and a quick trip to the grocery store, we were ready to head off on the next leg of our trip. Louise saw us off at the bus stop and we reversed the last part of our trip from yesterday.

Goodbye at the bus stop

Then we had a quick train trip to meet the train that would take us to Stockholm, four hours away. We had gotten so used to traveling by bicycle — and to having Louise’s authentic Swedish comfort food — that it was difficult to leave. She assured us, though, that there would be plenty of cool things to see in Stockholm. We are already lowering our expectations when it comes to ice cream servings.

Waiting for a train in Hasselholm

The light faded slowly as we watched bustling Swedish towns and sprawling wheat fields go by. It didn’t get dark until just before we arrived in Stockholm, around 10:30 p.m. We managed to find our accommodations, a slightly more difficult task than you might think.

From the window of the 18:46 train to Stockholm

We are relying on wifi to keep us informed, so street navigation is not as smooth as it would be if we constatnly tied into the Internet.

We found our place, though. It’s a hip hostel still buzzing with young people in the lobby when we arrived after 11. We have a six-bunk room to ourselves, and it has its own bathroom. We’re hoping to get up relatively early to explore the city, but all bets are off given our late bedtimes and the fact that Louise and her dynamism are several hours away.

Day 4 — Near Misses and Big Hits

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We went right when we should have gone left.

We are not done yet.

On the contrary, I think we have been invigorated by out close proximity to all the action. I walked to the Eastern Market at dawn’s early light for some supplies at Trader Joe’s and a few coffee drinks. Having consumed those in our just-right accommodations, we practically leapt out onto the sidewalk, ready to crawl all over DC for another day.

Paintings by Alma Thomas on display at the Hirshhorn Museum

Stop 1 was a return to the Capitol Welcome Center, a 10-minute walk from our place, to cash in on the Congressional gallery passes that we scored on Monday. Both houses were in session this morning, so we were confronted with a few options: House, Senate, or try to squeeze in both before our 10:30 meeting time with DC art expert and all-around great guy Ken.

A brief stop in a secret garden next to the Museum of Art and Industry (sadly closed today — another near miss)

With the intention of possibly visiting both, we headed for the Senate side first. It was about 15 minutes before their 10 am start time. It was possible that we could see the Senators start their session and then hustle over to check out proceedings in the House.

This really wasn’t a good plan. After surrendering most of our posessions in a check-in station we were directed down several hallways, up and elevator and through several more hallways (all with consistently shiny floors and very solid-looking walls), through a metal detector, and finally into the Gallery of the US Senate Chambers.

It was a quiet place at that time of day, with about 10 other people in the gallery (gallery viewers were outnumbered at least 3 to 1 by people standing in the hallway directing us where to go) and, maybe, about the same number of people on the floor of the chambers.

Many of these people were literally sitting on the floor of the chamber, not displaying much anticipation that anything was going to happen soon. They were wearing blue and looked to be late teenagers. Reading the Senate information booklet while we waited, we discovered that these were interns in their junior year of high school. Not too long after we took our seats, right around 10 am, the interns popped up off the floor and took positions by various doors in the chamber. We took this as a sign that something was about to happen — possibly that the Senators were going to make a grand entrance.

A few more people did trickle in, including a woman wearing a contraption that held a stenographer’s recording device and allowed her to go around keying in what people said. The Senate information book informed us that recorders like her work in 15-minute shifts and then go back to their offices to immediately to transcribe their notes.

Here is what this recorder transcribed in the minutes that we were there: 1. A grey haired man (our best bet at actually being a Senator for the day — it might have been the Senate President Pro Tempore, or it might have been someone on Vice President Harris’ staff performing her duties for her) banging a gavel, calling the session to order, and announcing a pastor who would be giving the morning’s prayer. 2. The solemn pastor invoking those in the chamber (at this point still dominated by high school junior interns) to use the quiet strength of the Lord to guide their decisions. 3. A clerk reading two communications, the latter being about the Senate moving directly to executive session to talk about candidates for an upcoming appointment.

Jen asked the last official person we passed before entering the chambers, a lady standing at the top of the stairs if the the Senators would be coming in soon and the lady said yes. They were just listening to someone talk, she said. They would be entering the chamber soon.

We read our book. We found the desks where Maggie Hassan and Jeanne Shaheen, our Senators from New Hampshire, would be sitting. We watched the clock as it got closer to our meeting point with Ken.

The interns sat back down on the ground.

We realized it would be impossible to gather our things at the check-in, hustle over to the House of Representatives side and repeat the check-in process, make our way to that gallery to see if anything more was going on over there. So, we waited a few more minutes, then gave up. We retraced our steps through hallways and the elevator, back to the check-in to retrieve our things. Here we noticed a tv screen showing proceedings in the House, and there was a Representative talking. It appeared there was something going on over there. We would later learn that there was a major discussion about the debt ceiling. There were probably lots of people in the galleries over there checking all that out.

It was a near miss, but still a very interesting look into how things work on Capitol Hill. As an added bonus, they never collected the gallery passes we received from Rep. Pappas. They never even looked at them. So we can go back and check the whole thing out again if we want.

In the meantime, the stage was set for a day of exploring galleries with Ken, who did not seem to mind that we were 17 minutes late meeting with him at the Hirshhorn Museam just one block up from the Air and Space Museum on the National Mall.

Most of this is made of tinfoil!

And so began a day of getting a little off the main trail of museums in DC. We had another near miss when we learned the special exhibit at the Hirshhorn was sold out (it didn’t look that crowded there), but then we moved on from main gallies of modern art here to a more intensiave tour of the National Gallery’s Sculpture Garden.

After lunch on the patio of the cafe there, we moved on to the Renwick Gallery, which is Ken’s favorite and is located right next to the White House. It featured one large, ballroom-sized installation that was a larg net suspended from the ceiling lit by subtly changing lighting. It also had on display an assortment of very cool woodwork and pottery. It was only one floor of galleries, but the time we spent there was worth the walk.

On our way to the Renwick Gallery, we got to peek at the president’s residence, but it was not easy. There were lots of extra barriers and many security personnel around. We would later find out that this all had to do with a state dinner that evening to welcom the President and first lady of South Korea. If we had only stayed around watching for a little while longer we might have gotten invited to the dinner. Another near miss.

Anyway there was more art to see. And gift shops. By now we were walking through the streets of the city part of DC and not around the National Mall. We made our way to Chinatown and there, in the shadow of the hockey and basketball arena, we found the National Portrait Gallery. Aside from housing a lot of portraits, this build also had a major collection of American Art, and it also offers a fantastic covered central courtyard where we lounged over iced coffee and continued to get caught up with Ken.

In these galleries we were able to see portraits of all the Presidents (though no official portraits have been painted for Trump or Biden because they are either in office or looking to run again for President). We saw the famous portrait of Michelle Obama. We saw lots of work by American artists, and we generally had our artistic appreciation vessels filled up right to the brim.

After that, all that was left was a nice dinner at the Founding Farmers and Distillers restaurant a brief walk from the museum, and then we were saying goodbye to Ken. We owe him many thanks for taking a day off from work to show us a lot of places (and artwork) we would not have gotten to on our own. It was a very big hit of a day for us.

Day 2-3: Tired legs around the National Mall

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Long escalator to Bethesda Metro — easy on the legs

An underarching question marked our firstday touring DC: Are our legs sore from walking (and running) around New York a few days ago, or are we stiff from sitting in the car through New Jersey, Delaware and Maryland?

We certainly weren’t sore from the cushy reception we received in Bethesda from old friends Kathleen and Daniel and their family. We will be staying with them for two nights on their trip, and they are quite fun hosts — but, they’re not on Spring Break this week, so we will be hitting DC on our own for a few days.

Alone, that is, except for the beneveolent help of our Congressional delegation from New Hampshire, who have hooked us up with a tour of the US Capitol Building (thanks, Senator Shaheen!) and tickets to the galleries of the House and Sentate (thanks Representative Pappas and the staff intern who brought the passes down to us from his office only a few minutes after a cold-call request phoned in from the Capitol Building Welcome Center).

Underneath the Capitol Rotunda

The tour of the Capitol was a first for all three of us. Everything is quite shiny in there, and very solid looking. The tours are run with incredible efficiency. We entered in a group of about 250 people (the bulk of which were from two large groups of middle schoolers — there are lots of large groups of middle schoolers here), saw a quick movie and then split ourselves into walking groups of about 30 people. We all got headphones so that we could hear our individual guide speaking to us, and then snaked our way through some corridors of power. We were divided, wired in, and touring just minutes after the movie ended.

New Hampshire’s own John Stark

Our walk covered the crypts, where George and Martha Washington were meant to be buried but somehow got out of it; the immense and ornate Rotunda; and statuary hall. We even got to see both of the statues New Hampshire has contributed to the Congressional collections — John Stark and Daniel Webster. Every state gets two statues. We didn’t know that that before the tour.

In the canopy of the National Botanical Gardens’ rainforest

At the very end, our tour guide told us about the “call your Congressman” trick to getting gallery passes, and we decided to give it a try. That all transpired in the time it took Lanie to peruse the gift shop (there’s lots of gift shops here). Unfortunately, neither house was in session that day; but not unfoturnately, the passes are good for the whole Congressional session. We’re plan to come back on another day so we can see legislators in action.

From the Capitol we kind of wanted coffee an so we wandered over to the Botanical Gardens, where we found — a coffee bush! We also walked around in a very steamy enclosure that supported a mini rainforest with an emphasis on orchids.

Other gardens we saw had cacti and hydroponic themes. We found an ourdoor space with roses in bloom. Lots of things were blooming all around.

The blooms were quite distracting, and it wasn’t until we visited the restaurant at the nearby National Museum of the American Indian that we finally got around to getting coffee. We had been advised that the food was good at this museum, so we decided to try some corn bread and a sampling of their salads as a late mornng-snack. Our legs by now were really needing some rest.

Outside the NMAI

In the museum we found some particularly moving and sobering reminders of how American Indians have been portrayed in mainstream American society. This was counterbalanced by very serene architecture, landcapaing, and Native American art.

Exampls of mainstream portrayal of American Indian culture

After snacking and touring the museum — already our third stop of the day — we were still on the move. The next point of interest up the street was the Smithsonian’s National Air and Space Museum.

Beneficiaries of a brief nap under the stars

Both extremely popular and limited in floor space because of a major construction project, the Air and Space Museum was the only place on the National Mall besides the Capitol that required us to reserve an entry time. While we waited for our 2 pm reservation, we wandered off the Mall for a few blocks to find a quiet place to order and eat a noodle bowl lunch. We bypassed the many food trucks parked outside of the museums because: 1. they all seem to have exactly the same food; 2. they don’t display their prices. Our legs weren’t too tired to walk a few blocks for noodles.

That’s not to say we weren’t tired. Two of us closed our eyes and rested a bit during the planetarium show in the Air and Space Museum, and after an hour or so of touring the halls of this, our fourth major tourist attraction of the day, we were about ready for some ice cream and quiet time under a shady tree on the Mall.

Then, it was time ride the metro back to Bethesda and rest up for another day of DC touring.

Time enough for fish and chips

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Stuffed puffins in a souvenir shop in Reykjavik

The last day of a trip always brings its own special pressures — usually in the form of a plane we have to get on before it takes off and the multiple hurdles we have to jump to get there.

This year there was an extra hurdle: We had to submit to a Covid test before the US would let us back in. Jen had appointments for tests all set set up, and she also arranged for an early evening flight so we would have time to experience a little of Reykyavik before leaving iceland.

And, we were well set-up for the day. Our slightly-sketchy-from-the-outside-but-really-nice-on-the-inside hotel was a short drive to our main stomping ground for the day: downtown Reykjavik.

Smoked puffin on a menu in downtown Rejkyavik

Before we headed out in the moring, there was a little jostling to do, moving belongings that had become loose in the back of the car back into our suitcases, adjusting things so that we could get as much in our checked bag (and as little in our carry-ons) as possible, clearing out all the cupholders of Werther’s wrappers and napkins. This is all prep-work for the final goal of getting ourselves on the right plane at the right time, and the prep-work has to start early on departure day.

We should note that the parents of this operation have been pretty good at getting ourselves up at a reasonable hour — 6:30- 7 am, local time — and we were able to take care of most of our shufflng and packing without disturbing the girls’ sleep. Like several nights on this trip, we were sleeping five to a room.

What we weren’t able to do today was find coffee, save for a jar of instant grounds in the communal kitchen on our floor. Prep-work today would have to be performed without the aid of caffeine, though there was the stimulating smell of a bacon factory a few blocks away as we roamed around in a fruitless search for a cafe. Sadly, there did not seem to be a direct sales outlet attached to the bacon factory.

On the rainbow road in the heart of the tourist district

Caffeine-deprived and bacon-starved as we were, we all were sufficiently packed and in the car by 10 am. A 20-minute drive got us right to the center of the capital, a city of low hills surrounding a bay and spreading tidily inland in residential waves. The highways had expanded to three lanes but the bustle was manageable and parking was not difficult to procure even though the downtown streets were narrow, in the way the European city streets are.

Thus commenced our only major urban hike of the trip. With somewhat blind luck we managed to park only a block from the main pedestrian downtown network, and Jen had just enough Icelandic coins to procure us parking until 1 pm (and still leave one coin for our family foreign coin collection).

Zoe in front of the Hallgrímskirkja

Reykjavik is a fine walking city. We followed cobblestone streets past food stands and souvenir shops, plus plenty of restaurants and bars that didn’t look like they would start stirring for another few hours. After experiencing relatively infrequent eating options for most of the trip, we were facing a potentially paralyzing wealth of lunch options as well as shopping spots. Fortunately, we had a few goals in mind to help focus us. One was find a Christmas ornament (the traditional family gift we buy ourselves when we travel to new places). The other was to sample the fish and chips here — reportedly an extra-fresh, extra-delicious experience in this cold-water port.

This street was painted to look like a track meet

With a 1 pm parking deadline hanging over our heads (and then a 2:30 pm Covid test to get to after that), could we take care of all this business?

Well, despite the fact that the pedestrian section of downtown Reykjavik has surprsingly more ground to cover than we expected, we are happy to say: “Missions Accomplished!”

Taste testing fish and chips — the winner is…101 Reykjavik street food, by a nose.

We even had enough time to visit two fish and chips establishments and hold a taste test. We put Rick Steves’ favored version against that of another outlet we passed in our amblings. Reykjavik Fish gave an impressive amount of thick cod, that it advertised as being fresh daily. It also costed about $4 more, but it had Rick’s blessing. In the other corner was 101 Reykjavik Street Food. Portion size was smaller, but so was the price tag. The crust on the fish was crumblier but very tasty. In the end, it came down to the potatoes. 101 Reykjavik Street Food had crispier fries, and thus edged its way into the Pavlik family fish and chips endorsement.

Aaah. Gelato

(Note: Nadia passed on fish and had a waffle for lunch.)

Having taken care of this buisness, and having adequately covered the quaint streets of old Reykjavik, we picked up some gelato on our way back to the car. Then, it was time to hurdle the Covid test. It took about half an hour from when we walked in the door of the clinic, but when we walked out we were certified Corona-free.

Next was dropping off the rental car (and taking advantage of the free coffee maker, which was no longer in cleaning mode). Then navigating the airport and sliding into our seats.

Check out the icebergs around Greenland.

It was an uneventful flight, with the exception some cool views of icebergs off Greenland.

After that, it was only a matter of Jen finding a suitable implement to scratch the coating off Iceland on the kitchen table map.

The Pavlik family 2021 Iceland trip is now officially complete.

Second-rate pictures of a first-rate trip

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This is the dairy department in Seydisfjorder. Icelandic yogurt is very good.

Zoe has the best phone and, with it, the best camera in the whole family. Like everybody, she can be seen taking lots of pictures here; but don’t expect to see many of her pictures here in the In The BIg Picture blog. Just about every one else in this family except the parents keeps all her photos to herself.

So you’re stuck with pedestrian picutres of sometimes pedestrian things that we do here. Like go grocery shopping in real Icelandic grocery stores.

Jen drove most of the way today. She did a great job. Driving in Iceland sometimes requires nerves-of-steel passing skills.

I take lots of pictures while we’re driving because the scenery is so magnificent here. Driving pictures are the worst, though. They never come out like they look in real life. They don’t on my camera, but I wonder what they would look like on Zoe’s phone. Even when I get pictures of goats — it’s actually pretty difficult to get a picture of scenery here that doesn’t have a goat in it because goats are omnipresent in Iceland.

Today was a little driving-centric. We broke things up by making an impromptu stop at a beach by the side of the Ring Road. It wasn’t even mentioned in our guidebook, but we had a fine time feeling the breeze and sifting through the rocks.

We could not linger too long because we had an afternoon appointment and we wanted to check into our hotel before moving on to the big excitement of the day. (I know! More exciting than grocery shopping? It’s true! Keep reading.)

So now we get to the point of it. We had a terrific experience at two glacial lagoons today, but not long after we arrived at the first one, the sun went away. By the time we got on the Zodiak boat for our glacial lagoon tour, the light had flattened out to en extent that our mid-20teens camera can’t really compensate for. Zoe took pictures, but is not willing to share for the blog. Somewhere along the line we made a terrible mistake as parents and now our children have trouble sharing.

At least someone’s getting a good picture of this.

Some of our pictures of the glacial lagoon came out nice. What you’re seeing is chunks of the Vatnajökull glacier that have calved off and are floating around in two lakes very close to the island’s eastern shore. This glacier is the largest in sub-Arctic Europe — it covers more land than the state of Rhode Island, according to Vincent, our Zodiak captain.

The lagoons are deceptively deep, and the vast majority of the icebergs are beneath the water. We are not in danger of sinking from crashing into an iceberg, though they did give us special coats to protect us from the cold water and life vests to keep us afloat.

A nice couple from Spain took this picture of us duriing our Zodiak trip.

There is a slight danger from large waves caused by a new ice berg calving off of the glacier and hitting the water. We stay more than 200 yards from the glacier to give Vincent time to take evasive action in such an event, though he admits that calving only happens on about five percent of his tours and calving of large ice bergs is even more rare.

Sampling a bit of a 500-year-old iceberg — according to our guide, the purest water anywhere.

He does note that sometimes ice bergs turn over and, theoretically can land right on top of the boat, but he doesn’t seem too concerned about that.

Close-up of the glacier

And anyway, not to dampen the suspense or anything, we survived the ice berg lagoon cruise. Not only did we survive, we saw two seals on an ice berg. What do you think about that?

The last stop of the day was at Diamond Beach, the black sand of which is a striking contrast to the small crystals of ice that wash up when the ice bergs make it out to sea. The crystals look like diamonds. Our camera has a nice micro zoom feature and I tried to take some close-up pictures of the ice crystals. I don’t know if Zoe’s camera can do that.

“Diamonds” at Diamond Beach

This is our second-to-last night in Iceland. Tomorrow is a bit of a heavy driving day, but it will drop us off in Rekyavik. We had the pleasure of eating delicious artic char this evening for dinner (it’s like salmon). Tomorrow we’re going to try one last time to get fish and chips. Somehow we just keep missing out — mostly because the restaurant or food truck closes down just before we get there. Maybe we’ll have better luck in the big city.

Around the lake

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We spent the day circumnavigating great Lake Myvatn. It’s like the World Showcase Lagoon at Epcot, except with ancient volcanic wonders to explore instead of shallow international facades. If Iceland were to be featured at Epcot, its section might just be a mini Lake Myvatn with plaster volcanic craters all around it that you can climb on.

Up the outside of Hverfjall

But the real lake would be better. Rick Steves, whose guide to Iceland is heavily influencing our decisions here, says this is the place to spend two days if you have an extra day traveling the Ring Road.

Here’s one reason why — the Hverfjall Crater. It looks like an enormous grey sand dune. It sticks right up not far from the road, visible for miles. You climb up the side and see it’s a hollowed out crater in the middle. Then you can walk along the edge of the crater viewing the lake on one side and a variety of landsapes on the other. We saw flat wastelands pocked with smaller craters. We saw steam plumes of geothermal rifts in the distance. There was a field of fanciful columns of lava in the general direction that we were following the loop.

On the crater rim

If we had gotten to Hverfjall a little sooner (we lingered over a fine breakfast at our guest house and didn’t hit the road until around 11), we would have seen some competitors in something called the Island Volcano Marathon. The poor souls in this race had to run up the side of the crater, and then around the mile or so trail along the rim, and then stumble back down the powdery path. What a tortuous challenge to put within a mile of the finish of a marathon. Who knows what other horrors the runners had to complete before they got this far.

Myvatn fatigues

Well, one of them might have been the midges. The name Myvatn is actually a reference to the small flies that swarm around everything in this region during the summer. We showed up equipped with head nets, thanks to a tip from the guidebook, but today’s breeze seemed to keep the midges pretty much under control and we ended up not wearing them for most of the day.

Anyway, walking the trails Hverfjall was good enough for us. We’ll leave the running to someone else.

On the hunt for the Yule Lads

Our next stop along the lake was at the dark field of pillars we saw from the top of the crater. Dimmuborgir Lava Formations reminded us of South Dakota’s Badlands National Park even from a distance. Up close, the main difference was that guests are not able to climb all over these lumps and hillocks like they are at the Badlands. This is one rare instance where the clampdown is tighter here than it is at home.

Part of the reason is that they are in the process of re-foresting the area and they don’t want people stomping all over their bushes and grasses that keep the volcanic silt from blowing around and covering up the features. The restrictions make it difficult to hunt down the Yule Lads, who are a gang of holigan-esqe Santa Clauses who cause mischeif but also bring Christmas spirit to Iceland when the season calls for it. They’re supposed to live here among the lava formations, but we did not see any of them. There are 13 Yule Lads and we didn’t even see one.

At “the Church”

We did see a cool cave formation called “the Church,” which was worth the walk out to see it. Then we looped around and had lunch in the parking lot. If you’re keeping score, you’ll note that we’ve already eaten twice today. Could it be that we’ll actually get in a full complement of meals? Stay tuned.

As we zip our way along the shores of Myvatn, you should realize that all of these features are right next to the main road. It is incredible to think of all the amazing things might be over the next hill or on the other side of this river, but people don’t bother to go there because there’s so much wonder right by the side of the road. It probably made Rick Steves’ job a lot easier.

Staring down goats

A quick turnoff to a small parking lot set us up for a walk through the Hofdi Promontory, a nature preserve that includes — great wonder — trees! Lacking in much of the country, mature trees are a sight to see here. These trees were apparently painstakingly planted and nurtured on this small strip of land by a couple who wanted to help in the reforestation of Iceland. Reforestation helps preserve the soil and brings the island back to the natural state the Vikings found it in. This particular forest also provides cover for at least one band of rampaging goats, which was stomping in the opposite direction down the same path we were following. After we got into a little stare-down, the goats decided to vacate the path and resume their stomping in the woods.

A hidden garden in the Hofdi Promontory

The Hofdi Promontory also featured several hidden gardens to discover, and — like all the attractions along the lake — did not charge an entrance fee. You can just park and walk right in.

After this we planned to visit a cluster of pseudo craters, which are not typical volcano craters but the remains of enormous lava bubbles that popped and left circular holes all over the landscape. This particular group of them was very inviting to wander over (and to ponder the size of the bubbles that caused them), until the rain started to fall.

Retreating from the pseudo craters

We made it along the shorter of two trails through the park, but then huddled in our car to puzzle out a dilemma: We had arranged for a horseback ride in half an hour, but suddenly the prospect of riding out in the elements did not seem as pleasing. Jen had made the arrangements at lunchtime, when the sun was shining. The weather here is similar to April in New England. Cool and comfortable, generally, but subject to some variety.

As the rain fell, it became clear that any sightseeing we might do from horseback would be limited by clouds and fog. We made the reluctant decision to postpone the riding until tomorrow and came back to our guest house to reorganize. Thus, we finished our trip around the lagoon without visiting all the countries featured. But we were not done with our day.

Rejuvenated by the Myvatn Natural Baths

The weather rained itself out and left us with an evening of options. Our first choice was to visit the Myvatn Nature Baths. These baths are not as famous (or expensive) as the Blue Lagoon, but they do offer the benefit of being on top of a hill with an incredible view of the lake and the lowlands around it. Every place we visited during the day was in view of the baths. It was a good way to sum things up and to soothe bodies that have walked quite a bit during this vacation.

Having restored ourselves in this manner, we then set out to actually eat in a restaurant. It almost worked. We found a very nice place, but then found we needed to have made reservations. Then we found a pizza place, but it was too crowded so we opted for takeout. Some day we might eat in an actual Icelandic restaurant, but for today we settled for just getting three meals in.

Moving on down the road

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Twelve hours of sleeps does wonders for the nervous system, but it can cause havoc with carefully laid travel plans. We needed the sleep after yeserday and a half, and our hosts accommodated by setting a noon check-out time.

So we slept in, and paid a price a little later in the day.

The short seasonal darkness and the blackout shades in our bedroom creates some evening/morning confusion. This would have been a great trip to bring a watch to set to the proper time zone, but for some reason I did not pack my watch. Phones and tablets are looked on with some scepticism — some have changed to the new time and some have not.

We eventually got ourselves in the correct morning state of mind, ate our Bonus-supplied breakfast foods, pack the car, and hit the road before noon, but a little later than Jen had planned for.

Oh, and some of us even squeezed in a visit to the local livestock. Our night 1 accommodations were not only perched above an inlet overlooking the Borgarnes across the way, they were also on a working farm. The sheep were curious, but not necessarily cuddly.

Once we got moving, we zipped around the inlet and into town for an abridged visit. Essentially, it was a coffee run. Borgarnes provided a funky cafe with lots of latte, but we didn’t take time to wander around like we tend to do.

Some of the waterfalls here come right out of the banks — the river is channelling inside the lava rocks.

Driving is pretty easy here. They drive on the familiar side of the road. Traffic is limited. Signs are legible, even if we would be woeful if we had to pronounce the place names. GPS has been helpful. It got us to our first destination, a set of incredible waterfalls, with no problems.

GPS has been helpful, but not flawless. Google tried to route us to our second destination via an unmarked farm road that seemed to be going in the opposite direction of where we thought our destination lay.

We decided to take the long way around, adding 10 minutes to our trip. I have no idea where we would have ended up if we took the unmarked road (just about all the other side roads are labeled in some way — perhaps with the names of the people who live on them? We really did not put in any effort to learn about the language here, so it’s tough to tell.

Happily, though a tad later than expected, we made it to destination 2, the largest goat farm in the nation. Among the draws were goat’s milk ice cream, plus sampling of fresh cheese. But, c’mon, this was the real draw of the Icelandic Goat Center at Haafell.

This farm, inspired several decades ago when an Icelandic farm girl read Heidi, has almost single-handedly preserved the breed of Icelandic goats that has remained undiluted since original settlers arrived more than 1,000 years ago. It also supplied goats for a Game of Thrones scene involving a dragon.

Peppermint flavored goat’s milk ice cream — served in a reusable canning jar

We lingered here for quite a while — the goat’s milk ice cream proved to be a winner and we picked up some cheese for our picnic, too. But our timetable got pushed even a little further back.

We pushed on along the ring and found that driving itself was a satisfactory way to pass the time. The landscape took on a very accute resemblance to the American West, with wide valleys, steep cliffs and lots of open space.

Our third stop for the day was a quick hike around a volcanic crater, not terribly unlike the one was saw yesterday — except this one was several thousand years removed from bubbling lava. It was right by the side of the road, and a wooden staircase led us to the top. Then we circled the crater, taking in views in all directions.

Actually, there were three craters here. We were able to climb and walk along the biggest one. The crater hike and the waterfalls earlier in the day were very quick visits — and definitely worth the time. Because of our late start, though, and the goat farm (also worth the time), we were starting to foresee problems.

It was already almost 4 pm and we hadn’t had our picnic yet. Plus, we were meant to check into our hotel by 8 pm, and we still had a significant amount of driving to do.

Our picnic wound up in an un-scenic rest area/gas station by the side of road, and our afternoon soak in a geothermal infinity pool had to get cut out entirely. These are a few of the repercussions of being behind in the timetable.

On the bright side, we got to see a lot of Iceland while we were driving, and as we entered the northern part of the country the American West scenery evolved into alpine Europe. More accurately, it was alpine on one side and ocean on the other, which I don’t think even Europe can offer.

Sheep are omnipresent

The water side — a little precarious

American West

Alpine with ocean

Stepping into downtown Siglufjörður

Our hosts in Siglufjörður were able to accommodate our late arrival — we checked in much closer to 9 pm than 8. Happily, we still had energy to roam this lovely small town in the late evening sunlight. Unfortunately, another consequence of our late arrival was that all businesses that might have provided us snacks were closed by the time we hit the streets. No fresh fish and chips for us — or even frozen Chinese food from the grocery story. Even the food trucks at the micro-brewery shut down minutes before we got there.

But, the beer was still flowing. So we had that going for us.

We’re staying at the northern tip of a peninsula on the northern end of Iceland, very close to the Arctic circle.

Side trip to Portsmouth on the Hudson

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The entrance to our hotel. There were beautiful flowering trees everywhere.

We like to think of ourselves as well-traveled. I mean, Jen has scratched off almost all the states on her lotto map that are east of the Mississippi and not the deep south. So it’s a suprise when we find new place relatively nearby that is worth visiting.

Tarrytown, NY, was not on our radar before Nadia signed up for a field hockey clinic/college visit nearby. Jen did her typical quality research and planning — and, aside from a puzzling lack of in-town accommodations, things looked promising. There was talk of some walking opportunities and some downtown quaintness.

Through a frustratingly difficult booking process she managed to get us a room in the only hotel (or inn, or B&B, or anything resembling a place we could stay) near the downtown area, and we were ready to go.

It should be noted that this was supposed to be a Jen and Nadia trip. Then only a few days before departure, the school district lifted the quarantine requirements for people traveling out of New England, which meant I could go without having to affect my on-site work schedule. Jen had to work her magic with the frustrating hotel booking process to extend our stay and double our occupancy.

And then we were ready to go.

And go we did!

From Jen:

Bob had no desire to look down through the grate at the water far below. I didn’t even walk onto the grate.

Those readers of a certain age may remember that Tarrytown was the home of Washington Irving, and the setting for the famous stories “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow” and “Rip Van Winkle”. I’m considering my daughters’ education incomplete, since both claimed to have never heard of Ichabod Crane or the Headless Horseman. I tried to play an audio recording of the story on the way down, but Nadia immersed herself in her headphones and Lanie claimed to only understand about half of what the narrator was saying. (The story was considerably denser, and written in much more flowery language, than I remembered. It’s very possible that my fond memories come from an eighties animated special or something, rather than the actual text. Still, it gave me a thrill of nostalgia to hear the long-forgotten but still familiar names: Katrina Van Pelt! Bram Bones!)

Anyway, we arrived at the Sleepy Hollow Inn and Resort Center late Friday night. It was not an especially nice hotel, and initially didn’t seem to be in the most appealing area, on a busy four-lane road. It was very close to the Hudson, but there was no actual view or access, so the benefit from that was limited. However, it proved to have one major advantage, at least for Bob and I — the hidden ability to walk to lots of cool places.

On Saturday morning we had to drop Nadia off at Pace University for her field hockey clinic. (This proved to be a bit of an adventure, since Apple maps led us to a random intersection in the middle of White Plains rather than the actual campus. Fortunately we’d allowed plenty of time.) She’s been talking to the coach at Pace and we were hoping to do a tour while there, but with the coronavirus situation found it to be a bit of a prison state. We all had to fill out an online questionnaire on our phones and display our green check mark to the guard to even be allowed to drive onto the campus. (Bob accidentally filled out some question wrong and got a red X instead, so he stayed at the hotel with Lanie.) Nadia had to go straight to the field, and parents were not even allowed to leave the car. We got a brief driving tour while attempting to find the field, and it did appear to be quite a nice campus.

Anyway, after leaving Nadia the other three of us started on our first walking trip — onto the Mario Cuomo (formerly Tappan Zee) bridge. It was only about half a mile from our hotel, and had a lovely walking/biking path along the side, with frequent viewing areas overlooking the Hudson and Tarrytown. (It also had nice tall sturdy barriers between the traffic and the walkers, and the walkers and the edge, and so was much

Rip Van Winkle statue in Irvington

less terrifying than my earlier experience walking the Golden Gate bridge with my friend Charles many years ago.) We didn’t have time to do the whole ~8 mile round trip — plus Lanie had chosen fashion over form and worn shoes that always give her blisters — but we made it more than halfway.

After that we took a quick trip into downtown Tarrytown for lunch. It was a cute, lively downtown — similar to our own Portsmouth. And we found delicious brick oven pizza by the slice, which was just right for our tight timeframe to pick up Nadia.

In the afternoon, our lame children unaccountably wanted to stay in the hotel room and watch reruns of The Office and Despicable Me for the eight hundreth time, so Bob and I set off without them on our next walking adventure. We’d seen something called the Old Croton Aqueduct Trail on the map, passing very close to our hotel. We were picturing some kind of wooded path, but it

A little way after passing through Lyndhurst, we came to

A little pre-dinner wine break on the grounds of our hotel

the road leading to Sunnyside, Washington Irving’s estate. We walked down to check it out, but unfortunately found that to be closed as well. The grounds looked to be extensive and again, worth exploring on another day.

Eventually the trail led us into the village center of Irvington, another charming town center with shops and restaurants leading down to the river. (I always love small towns, like our own Durham, that are safe and accessible enough to have groups of middle school kids wandering around town, buying ice cream and enjoying the nice weather.) We stopped at an organic juicery for a drink before starting on the log walk back. (We thought we could make a loop and walk back long the RiverWalk trail, right on the banks of the river, but unfortunately were blocked when we got to the Lyndhurst boundary.)

For dinner I had contemplated yet another walk along the Tarrytown river path, but even Bob and I were running out of steam by that point. We settled for driving to a park on the

Couldn’t resist trying this one

river and walking a short way to the picturesque lighthouse before heading into town for dinner. (Well, most of us did. Nadia refused to leave the car.)

And we weren’t even done yet! Bob and I wanted to see the bridge lit up at night, so took one more walk a short way out before the walking path closed at 10. The colorfully-lit bridge reminded us of the Zakim Bridge in Boston.

The next morning we packed up and headed southwest (driving across the bridge this time) to Drew University in New Jersey. We were able to meet up with an assistant field hockey coach and a couple of players, who gave us a nice tour of the lovely campus (despite the rainy weather). It seems like a great place — the campus is wooded and beautiful, the adjacent town is quaint and lively, and you can hop on a train and be in Manhattan in 30 minutes.

We had contemplated some other kind of activity in the afternoon, but the weather put a damper on everyone’s spirits and we decided to just have an early lunch and then tackle the five-hour drive home — rejuvenated with the thrill of having actually GONE SOMEWHERE.

The rolling hills of coastal Maine

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The latest calculations are that we put in more than 20 miles in today on our rented bikes, mostly over the national park’s gravel carriage roads. We stuck to the trails described to us “more moderate,” and while we expected these to be flat and gentle, they turned out to be a fair bit less moderate than that.

Looks flat but is probably uphill

The carriage trails are lovely, wide, shaded trails, but owing to the nature of the terrain in this part of the world, they are not really flat. Lovely, but rolling with hills. On many of the hills some or all of us would have to dismount and walk our bikes up.

It was a hardship that seemed bearable when we were driven by the promise of a large ice cream sundae inside an even larger popover at the Jordan Pond House, conveniently located at the farthest point in the Tri-Pond Loop we were executing today.

On the far side of Jordan Pond, we could practically taste the popovers.

This thought kept us pedaling along rather briskly for most of the morning up and down the undulations of the landscape, though at one point on a particularly long climb, we all got passed by a jogger.

Deflated troops after a bag lunch in a lovely setting

While we did see all three ponds gleaming magnificently in the sun, we didn’t actually ever get to latch onto any of those popover sundaes. The darned line at the Jordan Pond House was just too long, and, probably due to coronavirus restrictions, it seemed not to be moving at all. The hill-climbing jogger would have passed this line like it was standing still, because it was standing still.

Popovers, no; wild blueberries, yes

It was a difficult decision to make, but we ended up just eating our bagged lunch and refilling our water bottles several times at the Jordan Pond House before making our way through the rest of the loop.

Many a strategy board game loss was avenged on the adventure golf course, mateys.

One concession for the missed confection was to head almost directly to an adventure golf set up we saw yesterday on the way into town. We headed back out there almost as soon as we returned our bikes to the rental place.

The line for golf was long, too, but at least it moved. We opted to play the easier, original course and cruised right along once we got our clubs. The going was much slower on the flashier new course. Then we headed downtown to make up for lost ice cream and also to have dinner.

We even managed to break our beer fast at dinner with a sample flight of various Maine brews.

See, it all works out in the end.

Bangor to Bar Harbor

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Well, we managed to go a whole day without drinking any beer. Somehow.

We covered a lot of ground and saw a lot of brewpubs — it is Maine, after all — but we didn’t settle in for a pint, even to share. Here’s what we did do:

On the Waterfront Trail in Bangor

Jen and I satisfied our suspicions that Bangor is a walking-friendly city by following two separate urban paths, the Kenduskeag Stream Trail and the Waterfront Trail, only to discover that a tiny sliver or our morning walk was also a tinier sliver of the East Coast Greenway.

And the East Coast Greenway

The Greenway connects 15 states. After this morning’s walk only 14 more to go!

As it turns out Bangor is more than friendly, It is a borderline fanatical stalker of walking.

To our benefit, of course. We are walkers.

Jen and I managed to do all that — and to not stop in for a pint at the Sea Dog Brewery on the waterfront — by 10 am, and we got everyone out of our downtown Bangor loft by 10:30.

This gave us plenty of time for adventure as we explored more of Downeast. We got to Mount Desert Island well before it was time to check into our new accommodations, so we sidled up to the Acadia National Park Visitors Center, then hit downtown Bar Harbor for some pizza. And even then we still had time for adventuring before Air B’nB would be ready for us.

First we hit one of the crown jewels of the park, the vertiginous Beehive Trail, with its steep climbs aided by iron rungs, railings and bridges. This was a little too much to bite off the last time we were here. Lanie was six and much more likely to fall off than she is today.

The warning sign at the trailhead is bracing but we all took to the trail like we had sticky spider powers. Nadia was most of the way up before she realized how little she liked where she was.

Jen navigates an iron bridge.

The views from the top — actually there are views all throughout the trail if you look up from the iron rungs — took in the green of the trees, the grey of the rocks and the blue of the ocean, with dramatic waves of white fog closing in dramatically over the islands to the northeast and encroaching on Great Head and the Sand Beach.

By the time we made it down the back way, via the gentler Bubble Trail, we were hot enough to brave the Maine waves. We joined a surprising lot of people in the frigid water for a late-afternoon cool down. Happily, the fog seemed to hold off from the beach and we enjoyed the warm sun as soon as we got out of the water.

Not a bad way to pass the time before our rooms were ready.

The evening was calmer. We moved into the second floor of a victorian close to downtown Bar Harbor. The place is also a short walk to a supermarked where we provisioned with lunch items and even fixings for a dinner in. Follwing that, some of us took advantage of the low tide and walked across the sand bridge in the harbor to take in the sunset, along with a few score of our fellow tourists and a deer that apparently decided it didn’t want to be on Bar Island anymore.

On the sandbar

Still no beer, though we did pass an open brewpub on our way downtown for ice cream. And while some of us stayed behind for the sandbar walk, everyone was in for the ice cream trek (though Jen eventually decided she’d rather get something from a bakery we passed). I got homemade Maine blueberry softserve.

And off the island