I have just got back from holidays... firstly the wedding of a very dear friend followed closely by a reunion with another and London capers such as friends (thanks for the place to stay Yvonne!), museums, beer festivals and hot sticky weather ... then a flying (literally) visit to the beautiful Westmann Isles of Iceland... then a trip to the Icelandic highlands to wrestle with whooper swans... then a visit to Eastern Iceland to see friends and share musical moments at a live concert in a park by Eivor (a fine Faroese songstress)... then a lazy few days exploring a few glaciated mountains along the South Coast culminating in a 4-day trek through the mountains to a fabulous hotspring oasis... then I slept/didn´t sleep on a very decidedly autumnal rainy night in my Renault Clio (at this point there was a pause to the holiday-like mode, and instead it just felt darn uncomfortable)... My Holidays were polished off by a visit to friends in Grundarfjörður (the town-next-door) and immense hospitality at the Krakkan ('Raven') bar i.e. ridiculous quantities of whisky and fresh soup late at night (sounds a funny combo but it was great!)... then a meandering stroll along a deserted beach the morning after (well, deserted save my friends dear GIANT new member of the household: Embla the crazy German Shepherd puppy who is already as big as a HORSE...) and then... most finally and deliciously... Icelandic lamb supper at a friends and some more wine.
Now I´m back at work - how on earth could I have let that happen?
And I feel like I need a holiday.
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