a saga of dragons and trolls

Icelandic hotels don't have air conditioning or fans. They also don't have a second sheet on the bed, just a fitted sheet and a blanket. I always prefer sleeping with something covering me, but it's too hot for a blanket.

It was fine. I slept well and breakfast was good.

Our first stop today was the Lava Centre, a volcano museum. Apparently, there have been 150+ earthquakes in Iceland in the past 48 hours. (All under 2.5. One generally can't feel anything under 3.5. Tracking the earthquakes serves as an early warning system for volcanic activity.) Some of these volcano names would make great dragon names. Grimsvotn seems like f ridgeback, or f fathom, or maybe she/her m sandsurge. Also, I think Katla was literally the evil dragon in that one book about the disabled younger brother and the heroic older brother. It might've been explicitly called a saga.

In the gift shop, there was boy's pine cone stand! Would you like some specialty Icelandic salts? You'll need a bowl to put the salt in. How about a spoon to spoon it out? And some napkins?

(Salt is kind of a big tourist item here. There's volcano salt, hot lava salt, Viking salt, Arctic thyme salt, blueberry salt, licorice salt...)

As we drove by a mountain wreathed in mist, F was like "oh yeah there's elves here" and didn't elaborate and no one asked him to elaborate. Love the casual lore drop. It did look like the kind of place elves would live. At a museum in the afternoon, we got a whole lore thread about the 13 trolls of Christmas (it's safe for them to come out that time of year because there's no sun). One of them specializes in breaking into people's houses and licking all their spoons.

We also visited Blacksand Beach, a notable lore location: some trolls were out on the beach breaking up ships, and they were having so much fun they forgot to mind the time and turned to stone with the dawn. Their bodies can be seen even now as black rock crags rising from the ocean. Blacksand Beach is a notorious tourist killer because of sleeper waves, much larger waves than normal that come without warning, knock you off your feet, and sweep you into the ocean. You die of hypothermia in minutes. They don't bother posting lifeguards because there's no point; if you're taken then you are gone. We all gave the water line a wide berth.

On a high promontory overlooking another volcanic beach, there were PUFFINS. Most important stop of the day. They didn't care about our presence. They were just chilling.

Now, some irl lore: The original plan was to head east after Blacksand Beach, but around midday we got word that glacial flooding caused a river to overflow its banks, thus flooding the road, which had to be closed. F was hopeful that the waters would recede in a few hours, but they did not, and as we returned to the tour van from the beach, he informed us that we would be returning to the same hotel in Selfoss.

"Let's hope the soup is a bit better," muttered one of our tourmates.

"They're going to put no salt in our soup and it'll serve us right," I said.

Shortly thereafter, the non-salmon-eater arrived back at the van and F relayed the news. "What are we going to have for dinner?" she immediately asked.

"I'm sure something really good, like salmon," said F.

"I'm leaving," she warned.

Apparently Katla is to blame for the flooding. Definitely an evil dragon. There's speculation that the flooding might be a result or precursor of further volcanic activity. For now, we're back in Selfoss. We had lamb for dinner and it was great.