Reykjavik, day one.

Reykjavik, day one.

Overnight flight got in at 6:30 this morning, and I got to the flat at 9, still in pitch darkness. Unpacked, set up wifi, had breakfast, walked to the grocery store to buy lemons and ginger (as E texted to tell me she had a sore throat, and nothing works better for sore throats than hot honey ginger lemonade) — and it was still dark. The sky started to lighten slightly around ten, and the sun rose, at last, at 11:15, with a dim rose glow that detailed every rock and fleck on the slopes many miles north across Breiðafjörður. By noon it was this, with a wind so strong I couldn’t stand up straight. And by 3:30 it was dusk again, and now, at 5:14, it has been full night for an hour.

Meanwhile Elizabeth got here, and we ate spicy tuna something with avocados at the Laundry Room, and drank lots of beer and caught up on all the things that you can’t say in emails and texts. And now she is upstairs taking a hot bath while I write and say, how I love Reykjavik. The water smells sweet with sulfur, and the skies aren’t like skies elsewhere.