dramatic place to throw all your gods

It's very buggy around here. Apparently, Lake Mivatn translates to Lake Midge. No midges in the hotel (thankfully), but plenty of flies. Last night at dinner, a pair of flies landed on the table and began copulating. "Seriously??" said F as he shooed them away. Also, I slept poorly because there were two fat flies in my room who kept buzzing past my ear and waking me up.

It was a perfect blue-sky morning in the high 50s. "Scorching hot," said F, looking for a shady spot to park the van.

Our first stop was Godafoss, the Waterfall of the Gods. (we love waterfalls) (srsly though) It got its name when some Icelandic noble(?) converted to Christianity and tossed all his carvings of the Norse pantheon down the waterfall. "Dramatic place to throw all your gods," said Auntie B as we watched the tumbling waters.

We had lunch at a bakery in the sleepy seaside town of Siglufjordur. It was so nice that everyone wanted to sit outside. But there was a very persistent yellow jacket that kept flying onto our food, so I went inside to eat. Then everyone was like "come on out and have some pie, the bee is gone." I came out and the bee landed on Auntie B's sandwich just as she was about to take a bite and SHE ATE IT. SHE ATE THE BEE. "Spit it out!!" multiple people yelled, and she did (somehow without getting stung) and Dad killed it. Then another yellow jacket arrived and I took my pie and went inside.

Siglufjordur wasn't always a sleepy town; it used to be a major hub for the herring industry. 3k population, 12k in the summer during herring season. Herring girls would salt and pack the fish in barrels. Other fish were processed as animal food or for oil. (The herring processing facility had massive Dishonored vibes.) In 1969, the whole operation evaporated due to decades of overfishing - no fish showed up that season - and Siglufjordur became a ghost town and then a simple country town with a herring museum. The local herring population has not recovered to this day.

We're spending the night in incredibly cozy cabins in the middle of nowhere. The view out the back window is amazing - meandering floodplains to the horizon, and misty mountains in the distance. F said we're having horse for breakfast tomorrow. He said it'll be sliced thin like ham and served with remoulade sauce and fried onions. I couldn't tell if he was serious or not. He was laughing the entire time, but that could've simply been a reaction to several members of our group going "Horse???" He assured us it's delicious.