All water out, electricity out, toilet bag out. Johanna drives our luggage to the airport, we walk there. Sun blazing in the sky. Lauri and Chris also show up in the airport. I start with Hemingway. Because of this damn puzzle I've neglected reading.
The plane takes off over the maze of tiny islands of Angmassalik where each iceberg has its own private beach. I suddenly remember that I forget to say goodbye to Teresa in the middle of all the hustle.
It is warm in Reykjavík. Warm underwear seems absolutely inappropriate. We share half of the walk to town with Lauri and part then. In the hostel I meet an excited woman who tells me that the hostel has gone bankrupt. Like just now. The staff and owners are gone and left only a pile of debts. The staff is really nowhere to be seen but then neither are the debts. Well, I should have stayed in my usual Bus Hostel. I book a new place and race through the aimlessly wandering tourist hordes of central Reykjavík. New hostel is easily one of the best hostels I've ever been.
Next I head for swimming pool. What else to do in Reykjavík. Some swimming, some sitting in hot water. I still consider this part of the Icelandic culture one of their best inventions. This time I'm more interested in shower than hot water though.
I find a restaurant where staff speaks Icelandic.
In the morning me and Carlos eat everything that is still left and clean quickly to make the house ready for winter.
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