Stop and smell the sunflowers

On our third day in Amsterdam, we finally had some sunshine. Our first sight-seeing stop that morning was the Museumplein (meaning museum square) a large park-like area bordered by some of Amsterdam's finest museums. We headed to the Van Gogh (as the Dutch say, Van Kkkkkokh) museum on the north side where the 200 paintings owned by Vincent Van Gogh's brother, Theo, are housed. As with the Anne Frank House, we had bought advanced tickets and were able to skip the sizable line and go right into the museum.

Here's a little blurb from my Rick Steve's travel guide about Van Gogh and his art: "You could see Vincent Van Gogh's canvases as a series of suicide notes--or as the record of a life full of beauty...perhaps too full of beauty. He attacked life with a passion, experiencing highs and lows more intensely than the average person. The beauty of the world overwhelmed him; its ugliness struck him as only another dimension of beauty. He tried to absorb all of life, good and bad, and channel it into a canvas, and the frustration of this overwhelming task drove him to madness. If all this is a bit overstated--and I guess it is--it's an attempt to show the emotional impact that Van Gogh's works have had on so many people, me included."

The museum is laid out chronologically with Van Gogh's earlier works in the Netherlands first moving into his time in Paris. His first paintings focused on the reality of peasant life and were painted with dark somber colors. The style was crude, but Van Gogh's technique of applying thick paint was still clear. When Van Gogh went to Paris in 1886 he began to experiment more with the impressionist style and began to perfect his own techniques: thicker paint, broad swirling brush-strokes and bright clashing colors that "made his subject pulse with life" (example: Starry Night). Unfortunately, his mental stability also began to fluctuate and after mutilating his own ear with a knife during a fight with Gauguin (whom he shared a studio with briefly), he checked himself into a mental hospital in May 1889. When he left a year later in May 1890 he moved back to Paris, but in July walked into a field and shot himself in the chest. He died several days later.

Walking through the museum left me with a huge sense of sadness. Here was one of the most brilliant artists of all time, but he only sold one painting during his lifetime and eventually became so despondent that he saw no other recourse but to end his own life. How different would our culture be if Van Gogh had lived and painted through a full lifetime? There is no way to know...but wastefulness of any kind makes me sad, especially the waste of such talent.

The Van Gogh Museum

Concert Hall on the Museumplein

After spending the morning at the museum, we grabbed a quick lunch from a hot dog vendor. In case you didn't know, they are mad about hot dogs in nothern europe. In Iceland you couldn't go 3 feet without tripping over someplace selling hot dogs and the trend continued in the Netherlands. I'm not sure what it is about them (the cheap price? the easy portability?) but they sure love them.

Chris and I then decided to follow the self-guided Amsterdam City Walk described by Rick Steve in the guidebook and for the first time in our three days in the city fully immerse ourselves in the history and story of Amsterdam.

Rick Steve will guide us through Amsterdam!

The walk began outside the Centraal Station, which was built in the early 1800s during the city's economic revival. It's of the neo-gothic style and directly ahead lies the Damrak, the main street of the city. The area along the Damrak and in front of Centraal Station is known as the Times Square of Amsterdam, due to its hustle and bustle and also, of course, for the number of tourists and tourist traps.

As you walk along the Damrak, on the left you pass over the Amstel River which is now channeled into canals throughout the city. The next stop is the stock exchange (Beurs). The old building was constructed of nine million bricks (and 5,000 tree trunks hammered into the marshy ground) in 1903. Stocks used to mean anything that could be loaded or unloaded unto a boat, and this was where Amsterdamers always came to trade, even before the building was constructed. The architect who built the stock exchange was a famous socialist, and in a triptych frieze above the door, indicated that capitalists and brokers would lead to disaster in the future. Not exactly the message the stock exchange would want to send out, but whatcha gonna do?

Amstel River (looking towards Centraal Station)

The triptych above the stock exchange; the last panel shows people being crushed by capitalism.

Next down the Damrak, you hit Dam Square the cultural and political center of the city. On one side is the Royal Palace. It was constructed in 1650 and was used as a Town Hall, but got its current name in the 1880s when Holland was invaded by the French and Napoleon named his brother Louis king. The Netherlands currently has a monarchy--but it's in the British style where the King or Queen is the symbolic head of state (and not the head of government). The current queen, Queen Beatrix, uses the Royal Palace as her official residence when in Amsterdam. She normally lives at the Hague. Not too shabby, eh?

In the middle of Dam Square is a National Monument shaped as an obelisk depicting a crucified Christ, men in chains, and howling dogs. It was constructed in 1956 as a WWII memorial and is considered a monument for peace. The Nazis occupied Holland from 1940 to 1945 and deported and murdered over 100,000 Amsterdam Jews (including Anne Frank and most of her family).

The tour then took us down the pedestrian-only street, Kalverstraat, which is loaded with cheesy shops. There are some cool sights though; one of which is the "hidden" Catholic Church. In the late 1500s when the Protestant Reformation took control of the country, Catholicism began illegal and although it is now legalized, the Catholic churches in town keep a low profile. The church is called hidden because it's an unmarked row house between a McDonalds and H&M and you would literally never know it was there unless you were looking for it.

Royal Palace

Dam Square and the memorial

Dam Square looking towards the Royal Palace (the memorial would be at your back)

Kalverstraat

Another hidden treasure off the Kalverstraat is the Begijnhof, a beautiful courtyard lined with houses and a church that has been used as a woman's shelter since 1346. The Beguines were women who removed themselves from society and dedicated their lives to God--but were not nuns. The church on the side of the courtyard is called the English Reformed Church and is where the Pilgrims on the Mayflower stopped to pray before beginning their overseas voyage to Plymouth Rock. A stained glass window in the middle of the sanctuary commemorates the Pilgrims' visit.

Courtyard of the Reformed Church in the Begijnhof

Homes in the Begijnhof

By this time, our feet were pretty much shot, so we headed back to the houseboat for a little R&R. For dinner, we headed back towards Centraal Station and the Central Library which is located next door. Believe it or not, the library has a great cafeteria-style restaurant at the top terrace and the best view of the city.

Coming up next: we board the ship and enjoy some lazy days at sea! Also, I try not to eat so much that I swell to the size of a beluga whale. Mission somewhat accomplished.

Anne Frank and High Tea

One of the things I love about our trip here in Amsterdam is that we took a more relaxed view of sight-seeing. We definitely saw a lot of stuff, but we didn't embark on day-long trips that left us exhausted (we learned lessons from our Mediterranean trip). We just went at a more leisurely pace and had plenty of time to chill on our houseboat (de boot as we called it).

We got started on Wednesday by heading to the Anne Frank house, located on the west side of central Amsterdam near the trendy Jordaan district (more on that later). The museum is one of Amsterdam's most popular attractions and the line to get in the door can stretch down the block and last for hours. BUT. Because we had done our homework we knew that you could buy tickets in advance online. This allowed us to skip the line and go to a separate entrance. You just ring a bell, go inside and show your tickets to a person at a counter, and go right in. Easy peasy.

So Anne Frank: she and her parents and older sister emigrated to Amsterdam from Germany in 1933, the year the Nazis gained power in Germany. As The Netherlands were more accepting of Jews and had a good economy, it seemed the perfect place for Otto Frank to move his business and take his family. However, in 1940 Germany invaded Amsterdam and the Franks began trapped by the Nazi occupation. As the persecution of the Jews intensified Otto made plans to hide his family in a secret annex at the back of his shop and warehouse (most buildings in Amsterdam had these "secret" rooms, but the Nazis didn't know and so didn't suspect anything at the beginning of the occupation. In July 1942, Anne's sister, Margot, got her work orders to report to a work camp (i.e. concentration camp) so the family went into hiding in the secret annex where they would remain for two years.

The house itself is very unassuming on the street. It looks like any other house, but the museum was clever and purchased the two buildings next door so the outside off Anne's home could remain as it was in the 1940s. You enter from the building at the end of the block and then work your way through the Anne Frank house. First, you start on the ground floor and first floors which were used by Otto Frank as his store front and warehouse (he sold wholesale herbs and spices). On the second floor, you walk behind the moving bookcase used to hide the entrance into the annex and into Anne's world. The Franks inhabited 3 rooms in the annex (and shared the overall space with another family--a mom, dad, and their teeenage son).

There was a common dining/living room and kitchen, and several bedrooms. All 8 people in the house shared one bathroom. All the windows were blacked out and the family lived without sunlight for 2 years. Otto Frank's employees helped them by bringing food, supplies, and keeping people away from the entrance to the annex. During the day, the Franks had to be as quiet as possible; they could not speak above a whisper, had to avoid all squeaky parts of the floor, and were not permitted to flush the toilet. Anne had always been an aspiring journalist and writer, and one of the reasons she kept her diary was because she was aware of the importance of chronicling her experience. She also planned to write a novel based on her experiences in hiding called The Secret Annex.

Going through the Anne Frank House was very emotional and gave me a new perspective on the holocaust. We usually look at WWII and the extermination of the Jews through such a large lens: looking at the millions of people killed, the countries where the entire Jewish population was wiped out, etc. But in the Anne Frank House you are looking at the very personal experience of just 8 people; as you move through the rooms that comprised their home for 2 years, you have a laser focus on the different kind of horror the war wrought and aren't just dealing with numbers. You feel close to the flesh and blood people who lived there and can't help but imagine yourself in their situation. Anne's diaries themselves were also on display, as were Anne's notebooks that contained her many short stories, the beginning of her novel, and her favorite quotes and passages from other books.

In August 1944, working off a tip from a person still unknown, the Nazis found the annex and arrested all 8 inhabitants. The Franks were processed by the Germans, split up, and sent to different concentration camps. Anne was eventually sent to the camp Bergen-Belsen where she died of typhus in March 1945, only a few weeks before the camp was liberated by British troops. Of the entire Frank family, Otto, the father, was the only one to survive the war. He was given Anne's diaries and other notebooks by a friend who found them in the annex after the family was taken by the Germans, and spent the rest of his life seeing that they were published so people could learn and perhaps one day understand what had happened to his family.

The actual Anne Frank House (the museum also encompasses another three row houses on the right)

Original door to Otto Frank's store (and the house with the Secret Annex)

The block and canal of the Anne Frank House (you can see the people lined up on the street to get into the museum).

That's enough serious stuff for one email, right? After the Anne Frank House, I needed a break from the emotional so I decided to go for a stroll through the Jordaan (my guidebook included a walking tour with info on the area). The Jordaan (pronounced yor-dahn) is kind of like the Old Town Alexandria of Amsterdam--it's full of yuppies, hippies, and hipstirs and is the trendy shopping and cafe area. It's quiet, beautiful and was a great place to finish off the morning. Especially when it started pouring rain and I ducked into a cafe for some hot chocolate.

Chris and Kent outside a coffee house in the Jordaan.

Houses in the Jordaan--notice the different shapes of the gables and if you squint your eyes you can see that there are hooks hanging from the top. People use these to hoist large furniture up through the upper windows. Clever!

After wandering around the Jordaan (and buying some chocolate at a little shop), I headed back in the direction of our houseboat to pay a visit to the Museum of Bags and Purses. Amsterdam has more museums per capita than almost any other city in Europe and many of them are very specialized. The Museum of Bags and Purses is exactly that: a small museum that traces the history of handbags from the sixteenth century.

It was fascinating to see how purses have changed according to need, and they had some very unusual old and modern items. Chris and Kent weren't super interested in going through the museum (they are boys after all),but they did meet up with me at 3:00 for high tea in the museum cafe. We were seated in a lushly decorated dining room with murals and gilding, and were served sandwiches, a selection of pastries, quiche, and of course, tea. It was a very relaxing way to spend the afternoon,especially since it was so rainy, and we felt very posh.

Outside the Museum of Bags and Purses

Purse made from an armadillo (those are the legs wrapping around the edge), circa 1800s (I think).

The Museum tea room

Our dessert spread

After tea we headed back to the houseboat to relax a bit. Because tea had come so late in the day, we didn't really need anything for dinner, but we struck out again that evening for our Red Light District tour, since it had been rained out the night before. Luckily, the sky cleared right before our tour and we had our first taste of Amsterdam's famous Red Light District!

It was certainly as advertised; prostitutes stand in windows framed by red neon lights trying to entice one of the roving bands of randy young men. There's something for everyone: girls of different ages and nationalities, transvestites, and homosexuals. Surrounding the windows are streets of sex shops, movie theaters, bars, and coffee houses (coffee houses are where you buy pot). But here's the thing: it didn't feel really sketchy. In fact, it reminded my a lot of any party area of a city, think Adams Morgan in DC or Bourbon Street in New Orleans. Just with prostitutes. The entire area is also becoming extremely gentrified as the Red Light District houses many of the oldest buildings in Amsterdam and the rich people are starting to move in. Our tour guide estimated that in the next 10 years many of the seedy parts of the area would be gone.

I have to admit that I was kind of uncomfortable walking around there, but not because of the overt sexuality on display. The best I can equate it to is when you go into a shop just to look at the wares, but you don't intend to buy anything and the pushy salespeople are coming over to you "can I help you can I help you can I help you" and you feel SO AWKWARD. It was kind of like that. You've got these young women just trying to make a living and here I am in a tour group just wandering by. Weird. But the Red Light District is certainly part of the Amsterdam experience and you've got to do it!

Coming up next: the Van Gogh Museum, and a walking tour of the city itself!

Iceland...to Amsterdam!

Traveling from Iceland to Amsterdam was basically hassle-free...except it was quite an early morning. Our flight departed the Reykjavik airport at 8 in the morning, so we had a 5:30 pick-up from the shuttle that would take us to the bus terminal where we would then catch a bus to the airport. Another great thing about Iceland: because it's so small, all your tours, even the shuttle to get to the bus station, will pick you up right outside your hotel. I guess I'm just used to having to schlep myself and all my crap miles to get anywhere, so it's quite nice having door to door service. However, because I am a worrier and having the bus shuttle come pick me up seems like such a foreign thing, I spent most of the night worried that the shuttle would be late or just not show up, but at 5:29 there it came, right around the corner, and picked us up in front of our hotel. God, I love Iceland.

Here are some final random pics of Iceland:

This picture was taken at about 9:30 at night. Sun still going strong!

This was the name of our street in Reykjavik. Please don't ask me to try to pronounce it.

Our second morning in Iceland it was rainy and cold (about 40 degrees). I told Kent I would give him some Icelandic krona if he would run around the street with his shirt off. Clearly, he did it.

We had no problems at the airport or during the flight, and it seemed like a good sign that the breakfast in the airport cafe cost the EXACT amount of Icelandic currency I had remaining. From there it was just a hop, skip, and a jump to Amsterdam! Well, a 2.5 hour hop, skip, and a jump but you know what I mean.

After our arrival in Amsterdam we ran into a tiny problem concerning money. In Europe, they use debit cards that are called a "chip and pin" card. So called because they contain a microchip and a PIN number, but they work just like our debit cards--allowing people to pay for purchases or withdraw money from an ATM. The problem is that American debit cards don't have the chip, so they are not usable in the European machines. After striking out at an ATM and being unable to use our cards to purchase a train ticket at the self-service kiosk or teller, we tried a second ATM and success! We had Euros and were ready to head into downtown Amsterdam.

Amsterdam is fascinating and beautiful city--the whole thing is below sea level and is built on wooden pylons to keep it from sinking into the Amstel River. The river itself is channeled through a series of canals throughout the city, and despite what I had heard, the city does not smell weird because the canal water is flushed out every several days.I was kind of afraid the whole place would smell like pee.

The city's hey day was in the seventeenth century--when the Dutch ruled supreme economically thanks to the East India Company. This Golden Age led to a huge boom of building in Amsterdam (as it became the banking center of the western world) and many of the houses and other buildings in the city date from this period. Lining the streets and canals are tall row houses with ornate decorations, gables, and beautiful details. Think Old Town Alexandria but bigger and better.

Typical Amsterdam street---houses line the canals with one-way streets (going opposite directions) on each side.

The starting point for every tour and city center itself is the Centraal Station, the central train station. From this point you can catch trams, buses, or boats anywhere into the city and the main streets (including the Dam--pronounced Dahm) end at the central station. Upon our arrival we hopped on the Number 4 tram and rode about 2 miles down the Dam to the stop nearest the management office of our houseboat.

Did I mention we rented a houseboat?

We figured you can stay in a hotel or apartment anywhere...but how many places can you actually rent a houseboat?

The management people assured us that the houseboat was only a few canals (i.e. blocks) away. But it's not just a true vacation until Chris makes me drag my luggage halfway across a European city (remember, we did that in Reykjavik too). And due to map-reading snafu (we were heading down the wrong canal), it took us about 30 minutes to get to our houseboat. We were hot, sweaty, and irritated, but when we finally arrived we couldn't more pleased.

The houseboats in Amsterdam are almost all converted cargo ships, so they are large, spacious, and have cement floors. Ours was decorated in a pseudo-Moroccan style with low to the ground soft couches, cool wrought-iron lamps and chandeliers, and an open floor plan. Oh, and portholes of course. It couldn't be more comfortable and the extra bathroom was a welcome surprise.

Centraal Station

Our houseboat on the Keizersgracht canal.

Interior of the houseboat...not too shabby!

After settling in, we decided to strike out and check out the neighborhood. We walked around and discovered we were in a quiet but charming area surrounded by funky shops and a cafe on every corner. We were scheduled to go on a tour of the Red Light District that night, but since it was pouring rain, the tour got canceled and instead we did a bit of wandering on our own and stocked up on groceries for the houseboat. We might have have made a quick stop into one of the famous Amsterdam coffee houses and indulged in a bit of local fun...but that's a story for a blog that my family doesn't read.

Coming up next: The Anne Frank House, the Jordaan neighborhood, and high tea at the Museum of Bags and Purses!

Ankle Gate 2011

We interrupt our regularly scheduled vacation coverage to bring you this breaking news:

Maggie is a clutz and managed to not only fall, but also injury herself on her vacation.

SHOCKER!

I'll give you a minute to catch your breath due to the surprise.

Yeah, that was sarcasm, because if you know me AT ALL you know that I fall all the time. It is pretty rare however for me to actually hurt myself beyond a bruise. But this time I really managed to screw the pooch.

Let me set the stage: there I was on the cruise ship enjoying an amazing dinner of Italian food at the specialty restaurant on board. We were between the first and second courses (meaning I had just finished my beef ravioli and was waiting for my arugula and mozzarella salad) and I had to pee. And not just pee, but pee like woah. 2 glasses of wine, water, and a cocktail will do that to you. I also had to take the elevator down to another level to get to the bathroom, so when I got to the bathroom I was in a hurry.

That was my downfall.

I remember opening the door, walking in quickly, making note of the woman mopping the floor, hearing her say "be careful the floor is very we--" and that is when I wiped out. Full on, slide out, ankle slamming into the stall. I hopped back up, played it off, did my business, but I knew something was wrong. Because my ankle hurt. Not just "ow I hurt my ankle" but "HOLY SHIT WHAT DID I JUST DO."

I walked back up to the table (I could still walk ok so that was promising) and finished dinner. However, at the end of dinner I leaned down to feel my ankle....and yeah, it was swollen to about three times the normal size.

I spent the rest of the night with ice on my ankle and it propped up on some pillows. Luckily, I could still walk on it, but for the rest of trip a rather spectacular bruise appeared that just seemed to worsen as the days went on (this happened the Saturday before my return to DC the following Thursday). Since there didn't seem to be real improvement, I started to get worried and the morning after my return to town I got my ass to the Urgent Care Center and had an X-ray.

The good news? My ankle wasn't broken--hurray! Although I wasn't too surprised since I had been walking around on it for almost a week. But I did have a bad sprain and a small possibility of a ligament tear (which would SUCK), but if I took it easy for a week and didn't run for two weeks I should be fine. I am now pretty sure I don't have a ligament tear because there has been a lot of improvement the past couple days.

The worst thing about all this is how it's impacting my 5K training. I finally got myself to 3 miles on the treadmill and was planning to begin my outdoor training as soon as I got back from vacation. But now I will have been out of the game for 3 weeks--not good when my race is coming up at the end of October. I have been still getting to the gym though; I can use the stationary bike, elliptical machine, and weights so I haven't been a total waste of space. But I am still pretty nervous.

But now the good part: a picture! Warning, this shows some pretty bad bruising, so if you don't want to see it...don't look.



This was taken on Sunday (4 days ago). It's much better now, I promise. You can see all the yellow and green of the bruise, ew. The dark part near the bottom of the foot was actually bleeding into the tissue from the injury, which is what made them think I might have a ligament tear. Luckily, I think I dodged that bullet!

Super Jeep FTW

Our last day in Iceland was mostly dedicated to another day-long tour. This time we were headed south, and had booked something a little more off the beaten trail. Literally. We would be traveling in what is called a "Super Jeep," basically an SUV that has been given giant tires which allow for off-roading and trekking down bumpy rows inaccessible to standard motor vehicles. The tours allow for, at most, 6 people and we ended up with our own car and private tour guide. Aren't we fancy?

Me and the Super Jeep

We got picked up right on time at 8:45 and headed out of the city. Our first stop was to a waterfall called Uridafoss, which has the largest volume of water of any waterfall in Iceland. In order to access it, you need to go down a bumpy gravel road and there's no way our bus from yesterday could have handled it. Score one for the Super Jeep! Unfortunately, it was really cold and rainy (about 45 degrees) so after a quick photo-op we ran back to the car and headed to our next stop.

The upper falls of Uridafoss

Chris and I shivering in front of the falls. I don't think Kent even got out of the car for this one. He is a delicate flower.

The next part of our tour was one of the most interesting. After traveling on the highway we turned onto a deserted gravel back road that wound its way around the volcano, Eyjafjallajokull. You'll probably recognize the name (but don't try to get me to say it) as it was the volcano that erupted last year and shut down air traffic to most of Europe due to the ash. While driving to the volcano we went through miles and miles of green farmland which had been completely covered with a huge ash cloud for months. In an example of Icelandic ingenuity, firemen from all over the country (as well as other farmers) all came together to help clean up the mess, from public and private areas.

Fording the river on the way to Eyjafjallajokull (the water is all glacial melt from the volcano)

I jumped out of the car for a quick shot of our driver being badass.

Scenery on the way to the volcano (the waterfalls are melting from the....)

.....glacial cap!

But back to the road! It would have been impossible to navigate without our huge tires, in fact we passed a few regular rental cars that had become mired in the river shallows, dips, and gravel because they weren't equipped for it. Suckers. We circled around the volcano (and passed many beautiful waterfalls) and drove as close to the base as was safe to get pictures. It's not possible to get too close, as the volcano is surrounded by loose sand which can swallow cars and people. On top of the volcano, or at least as far up as was possible to see due to the mist and clouds, there is a huge glacier. Later that afternoon we would circle around to the other side of the volcano and actually touch the glacier!

The front of Eyjafjallajokull

After taking our pics and staring in slack-jawed wonder for a few minutes, we headed back down the same treacherous road and visited another waterfall, Seljalandsfoss. This one falls from an impressive height and has a rocky steep path around the back, where you can look out into the lowlands from the base. It was a little scary, but my rock-scrambling skills from hiking in Las Vegas came in handy and we navigated it without too much trouble.

Seljalandsfoss

That's actually me standing on a rock directly behind the waterfall. It was wet, but awesome!

From the waterfall, we drove toward a black sand beach on the Arctic Sea. One of the coolest moments of the whole trip: we were driving down a gravel road when all of a sudden our driver just veers off onto the sand and starts off-roading. For some of you that may not seem too exciting, but trust me, it was awesome. On the beach was the skeleton of an old US Navy airplane that had crash-landed. We also saw some whale bones that had been on the beach for many years. The black beach itself was very cool, but I have to say my favorite part of the experience was just driving right off the road and across the sand. We felt invincible!

Black sand beach.

Goobers.

Looking towards the glacier (our next stop) from the black sand beach.

Down the road from the beach (and by down the road I mean about 30 minutes) it was just a hop, skip, and a jump to another impassable gravel road to the glacier tongue Solheimajokull. This glacier comes down from the top of the volcano and you literally walk right up to it and take tours, walk, snowmobile, or be a little lame like us and just touch it. In our defense, the whole thing is a huge piece of ice and y'all know how much trouble I have on solid ground. But touching an actual glacier is probably my favorite thing of the day.

In front of the glacial tongue.

The glacier!

Looking across the glacier.

Our final stop was another waterfall (you basically can't walk anywhere in Iceland without tripping over a waterfall), Skogarfoss. This was the tallest one of the day, and I was able to walk right down to the base of the poll where the water hits. I was doing really well too until a sudden gust of wind blew the spray all over me, but hey, that's why God invented waterproof jackets. Besides, I had a two hour drive back to Reykjavik and my pants totally dried by the time we got back. Heh.

This is the closest I dared use my camera, but I really walked right up to where the spray is coming from. Look at me, I'm an adrenaline junkie!

One of the most surreal moments of the day came during the ride back to Reykjavik. We were all kind of tired, wet, and starting to get a bit grumpy, so the tour guide switched on the radio. The first song? Taio Cruz's "Dynamite." I'm not sure I've ever experienced that amount of cognitive dissonance before: here we were, driving past volcanoes and glaciers in a country halfway across the world and we were all singing (including the tour guide) about throwing our hands in the air sometimes. And then as soon as the English dance song ended, the radio hosts start chattering in Icelandic. Weird. But fun!

Some final notes on Iceland: it's pretty much the ideal summer getaway. The temperature is cool (we did get up to 55 on the last day and the sky eventually cleared) and everyone speaks English. The people couldn't be nicer, and since it's so small, even Reykjavik, nothing ever gets really crowded and you have plenty of yummy restaurants. You can also get up close and personal with the sights; there's not a lot of fences or restraints between you and the waterfalls and geysers. Our tour guide told us that Icelanders believe in Darwinism: if you are dumb enough to get so close to the edge, you're asking to get hurt. You get some low-slung ropes to establish the limits of what's safe, but after that you are pretty much on your own and expected to use your judgment. Since Icelanders are so practical, it's not very hard for them. Tourists however...well, we didn't see anyone fall off a waterfall, but some people did get drenched by the geysers.

We're already thinking ahead to our next Iceland trip (we didn't get to see the Northern Lights or the northern fjords) but now it's onwards and downwards to Amsterdam.