A 5 hour flight from Washington synchronized with dawn.
The sun rose. Yes as we approached the island...
...it turned more mysterious. A strange swamp of dangling clouds. 
An unfriendly coast of volcanic rock covered with dark moss.
Morning, Iceland.
The capital. 300,000 people in the whole country and more almost 2/3rds live around this town. None of them were around when I showed up around 6:30am. 
After four hours of walking I had covered most streets in the old town area twice. Perfectly designed, clean, elegant but inofficious. User-friendly. The people would turnout to be equally hospitalble.
The highest point in Reyk, this church - hallgrímskirkja - offered a beacon and a reference point. I walked on a crack of dawn rehersal for Bach St. Mathew's Passion. The musicians and soloists all in blue jeans. The view from the tower outlined the whole town.
After picking up the other traveller, we detoured to the Blue Lagoon: industrial-accident-turned-visitor-mecca. Geothermal hotsprings and spa surrounded by volcanic rock. Boiled and washed off any residual jet lag. This island clearly has more hot tubs and hot springs per capital than any other. We visited one of the municipal pools which turned out to be equally fun at about 1/5th the price. Nonetheless, who can complain given that some airport buses stop here to give you a quick dip before heading to the plane.
Thicker and richer than yogurt - although less fat - their homegrown skyr probably represents 50% of the calories consumed in the country just given the allocated slotting space. Dozens of flavors. In some stores they had a chart outlining the different active bacterial cultures in each product. It was a microbiologists fantasy, a delicious curiousity to the rest of us.
