Like most people who leisure travel on the regular, I’m jonesing to get on an airplane and . . . go somewhere. I’m also concerned about potential exposure to the novel coronavirus because I am not interested in contracting COVID-19, mild case or not. The last few days I’ve...
Reykjavik still feels quaint to me, at least in my memories. Yes, I totally realize that it’s a massive tourist mecca, more shops that cater to tourists than a town for the locals anymore. Yet the first time I visited Reykjavik, it still felt like I could be alone in the city. It was...
This past weekend was Earth Day, and I marked the occasion by participating in Philadelphia’s March for Science. I hear that the crowd stretched about 12 city blocks, and that there were probably a little over 10,000 people. It seems kind of insane that we’d have to march in protest...
When we weren’t white-knuckling on our aborted trip out to Hólmavík along route 68 in the Westfjords, Mr. Pretty and I were marveling at the scenery. Sure, the road was somewhat dangerous, but the landscape sure was pretty–and desolate. We’d be driving along, nary another car...
If you had to pick ten people that you had to hang out with day after day, never ceasing, could you do it? I mean, really: ten people that you could look forward to seeing. That you wouldn’t get sick of. That’s what I was thinking about while Mr. Pretty and I were in Hellnar, […]
Like everyone else in the known universe who visits Reykjavik, Mr. Pretty and I made a stop off at the famed Blue Lagoon. I won’t bore you with my tips for how to get the most out of a trip, or how not to make an ass out of yourself while following the rules by […]
I looked at the crampons on my feet, then the ice, then back at my feet. “And these are supposed to actually work to keep me from sliding to my death?” Mr. Pretty shrugged. “What’s the worst that could happen?” No else seemed even remotely concerned about my safety...
Iceland is very, very quiet in the winter. Mr. Pretty and I would be driving along and not see another car for miles. We’d get out of the car at a look-out point, and there wouldn’t even be the sound of wind. It’s “no one can hear you scream” quiet. It was...
The second Mr. Pretty and I walked into the gas station, a hush fell over the place. We were specimens to be studied. Strangers. An entire table full of working men stopped what they were doing and stared–hard. Maybe I don’t blame them. I mean, we were in Hvammstangi, a town with a...
I’m a sucker for animals. My biggest regret about visiting Budapest last year was that we didn’t have time to take a train out to the bear sanctuary. Rescue bears licking honey off a spoon that you thrust through a chain link fence at them? Sign me up! So one of the things I was […]