to the harbor

A whole long day of driving from Ísafjörður to Húsavik.
The winter clouds of the Westfjords are replaced by blue skies and this then with rain and darkness. Somewhere in the east wind blows up to 40 meters per second.
We meet with the local Estonian in a hotel lobby bar to witness Iceland winning Andorra in football, participate in a collective sigh when the ball hits the goal post with a loud slap and chatter. I return books and gas station cards.
Hotel keeper is astonished to meet an Icelandic-speaking tourist and invites his wife to look at me. I should start asking money for this.
In the news is an American businessman who is building Iceland’s first five star hotel in Reykjavik. He brawls that he is not afraid of the tourist boom ending because he has talked to many people in America who have said that they’d love to come to Iceland but there’s no hotel there that’s good enough. First world has huge problems. My respect to the tourists who have been coming here by 2 000 000 each year and endured such Spartan conditions.
Next day’s drive is shorter, only from Húsavik to Seyðisfjörður. When I reach a high plateau between the mountains then colors are turned off while rain and wind are turned on. On one side of the road it pours next to blue sky, on the other side sun sends a massive light column through the clouds.
A stop in the fancy new spa next to Urriðavatn. One gets to laze in hot water, swim in the icy lake and return to hot water. People drink some dubious electric blue liquid. Some terribly overweight kids. I share the pools with a bunch of Faroese. It rains.
The weather near Seyðisfjörður has not improved during the last two months. Still not possible to see anything here.

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