The dampness that is Iceland

I’ve been told by many that Iceland is a beautiful place.

I’m sure it is, if I could have seen any of it.

I found Iceland to be really really wet, cloudy and grey.  At least when I was there.  And every time the cruise crew have been there, as I was told.

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I tried to tell Nicholas that, really, we were fine and we could just stay in the car.  I could use my imagination and just look at the maps.  I also tried to tell him it was really humiliating to be seen under a pink kitten umbrella.

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But he still made us get out and go to even wetter places.  And he tried to say things like it was no more humiliating than walking around carrying a bear.  I’m not quite sure what he meant, but I gave him a smack for good measure.

Here we are dangerously close to the wet explosion of Geysir.

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And then dangerously close to the cascading sheets of wetness at Gulfoss.

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And then who knows where this is, given the visibility….  I just know it was also wet.

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At least I got to meet another mascot.  I’m still cuter.

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I cheered up a little when we were finally got back, got dry, and I was able to play with my towel buddy pets, today was a turtle.

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Ahhhh, being dry.

Cow sheep on Torshvan

Today, we stopped in a small town on the Faroe Islands.  Actually by Faroe Islands standards it’s a pretty big town, but given that I’m a worldly bear having been to many a town in the world, I felt entitled to conclude that Torshvan, pop. 20 000 = a rather itty bitty baby town.

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This is the whole town.  See, it really IS rather itty bitty.

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I’d read in the guidebooks that the Faroe Islands have their own kind of sheep — the kind  you get when sheep inbreed amongst themselves for thousands of years (or since the Vikings anyway) without new sheep stock to add diversity.  So I wanted to see some sheep to see how weird they look.

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These aren’t sheep.  They’re shaggy cows!

And then the clouds came in.  Okay I’ve seen enough sheep. And then it rained.  And I got wet.   And grumpy.

Nicholas tried to bribe me and cheer me up with a Jolly.

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At which point I explained that calling a drink Jolly doesn’t a jolly bear make.  Hot cocoa and a warm bed on a boat does.

So I got that.

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Much better.