While walking around Reykjavik, the Turkish coffee from the French press finally reached my mid-drift. I was guessing that I had about 10 minutes to find a lavatory, or risk telling my future children about how their father crapped himself on the first day of his honeymoon. The first three places that I ducked into did not have any facilities. Finally, I wandered into a health food store and inquired where one could find a restroom in Iceland. He didn’t speak a lick of English, but the panic in my eyes and sweat on my brow are apparently universally understood. The kind man let me use their restroom.
At 1pm, we walked over to the head office for the Nordic Visitor Travel Agency to meet with our travel consultant. For the next hour they talked us through our route and provided notes on points of interest along the way. We got everything from glaciers and waterfalls to the best lobster and ice cream in the country.
At 2pm, we finally got into our room. The universe is trying to tell us to pack lighter as we were placed on the top floor of the hostel with no elevator. The room is simple and modern, the bed is comfortable and the blackout shades set a perfect environment for an hour long nap before dinner.
Under the recommendation of the receptionist at the hotel, we walked across the street to a soup and salad restaurant. After a long day of travel, healthy soup and vegetables was perfect. Everything was fresh and homemade. It felt a bit like being in my favorite Boulder restaurant, the Whole Foods salad bar.