But as their time wound down and I was lamenting our deep need for a child free vacation, my mom assured me they would still be willing to babysit, even though we'd added a whole nother kid to the caseload, the only caveat being they wouldn't be available until January 2016 (which at the time was nearly a year away).
But did you know, if you find a person cracked and parched, crawling though the desert, and you point to the horizon and tell them that somewhere, just over the next ridge, there is a huge, lush oasis, they will be able to crawl for at least a few more days, even if they were previously ready to give up, roll over, and die a terrible, dry death?
That's what happened to us anyway. Just the idea of a respite kept us crawling towards the horizon.
But then we were challenged to come up with the perfect January holiday. After some thought, we settled on Hawaii. Relaxing and tropical. We started hunting package deals and researching islands. But we just couldn't commit to anything.
Along came our weekly Travelzoo email. (Because even if I can't travel all the time, dreaming about traveling is one of my best talents). And low and behold, we saw a great deal on a winter trip to Iceland. We laughed and laughed about that. Iceland?! In January?! That's ridiculous!
But then we found ourselves talking about the Nothern Lights and hot springs more and more. Until suddenly, we looked at each other and said, "We should just do it!" So we did. We booked it. And we came around to the idea that this would be nearly the polar opposite (Ha! Polar, get it?!) of Hawaii. The trip was short enough that there would be no time for relaxing. The weather cold enough that our shorts and t-shirts would be traded for long johns (3 pairs) and winter coats.
Our old friends, the Marcks, decided Iceland in January sounded like an adventure they wanted to take and they booked it too.
So then all we had to do was wait another long, 7 months.
Finally, finally, it arrived. We left our flock in the lovely and capable hands of my parents and boarded our direct Icelandair flight from Denver to Iceland. (Did you know that if you fly to Europe on Icelandair, they will give you up to a 7 day layover in Iceland for no extra charge?)
We had researched things to do and see and what to pack and it was time to put it all into practice.
It did not disappoint.
If you ever have the opportunity to go to Iceland, GO!
After landing, we made a pitstop at the airport bathrooms (seriously the nicest public bathrooms I have EVER seen. Complete with a sink and mirror in every stall) and changed into our winter gear.
We had learned in our research that Iceland is actually not that cold, or at least not as cold as people expect. We prepped for temperatures in the 30's, which for us Coloradans didn't seem like a big deal, but for our Texas friends seemed a little more frigid.
But when Dan and I moved to Colorado as warm blooded Texans just a few short years ago, after hearing about how the winters were actually mild and the weather was great, our first real week as locals was between -9 through -11. And all anyone said was, "It's not normally like this!"
Which is, coincidentally, what we heard a few times in Iceland when we thought our bottoms were literally going to fall off of our bodies.
But it didn't stop us. Somehow, the cold played a major role, but it seemed somehow to only add to the fun and adventure of it. Now. If I had had a kid with me, I would have taken a bus directly back to the airport and flown home myself.
Lucky for all of us, our combined 10 children, were safe and warm at home.
We arrived super early on Thursday morning and after dropping our luggage at the hotel, we headed towards some downtown square whose name I cannot remember, but that's okay because I could never have spelled it anyway, for a guided walking tour of Rekjavik.
This was taken at approximately 10:30am. The sun was just rising.
Of course I had to take a picture of the garbage truck for Finn.
Iceland won't be known for it's food in my book. These looked beautiful but I had the impression that wouldn't taste nearly as good.
This was parliment. The government building. It made me realize how small their government must be, and their country.
The downtown houses were so cute. Many were made from corrugated tin and painted really great colors.
I guess in Ireland they believe in fairies and in Iceland they believe in elves? If you wait too long to record your memories, they disappear. Which is precisely what happened to the story that goes with this elf rock our guide is illegally (seriously) touching to remove the snow to show us.
This little brown place is the oldest building left in Rekjavik.
Through the buildings you can see the silhouettes of the amazing looking church.
This was the parking lot of the local high school. You could say they had a parking problem.
These hot dogs are famous. I'm not sure how well they'd go over in Chicago, but in Rekjavik, they had made their mark, apparently only pushed into further fame by the fact that Bill Clinton ate one once.
They had a couple of mysterious sauces and crunchy onions.
And this is the point at which, after finishing the walking tour and getting our dogs, we headed to see the church, and my knee started hurting. Just a little at first but then quickly with each step further, it escalated more and more.
And I nearly cried, not because of the pain, but because London came flooding back to me and I watched the potential enjoyment of the next 3 days swirl down a toilet. My knee had literally not bothered me at all since about 3 days after returning from England 2 years ago. I hadn't even thought about it since.
But now, in Iceland, kid and care free, my knee was once again going to ruin a trip. The only difference I could see between Iceland and England was the fact that at least I wasn't pregnant on this one, and I could overdose on ibuprofen. Which is what I did as soon as I got back to the hotel. But at this point I was determined not to slow anyone else down, so I barely mentioned it to Dan and just gritted my teeth and tried to hide my disappointment.
This view was a pretty great distraction.
Honestly it kind of felt other-worldly.
Until it was time to go up in the tower. Luckily an elevator took us most of the way.
There was an amazing view from every direction.
Food might not be a specialty in Iceland, but they know how to do water. Seriously. I've never really thought about the taste of water, except when it's gross. Most water is just water.
But this water? This water tasted so good. Even straight out of the bathroom sink. I've never had anything like it.
Do you want to hear a sad story? When we returned home, my water bottle was still about half full. And every morning, like some sort of waterholic, I'd creep down the stairs and hit the bottle for just a little swig. And I'd savor it. And I'd look forward to doing it again the next day. And I'd get sweaty palms at the inevitability of it running out.
One morning I rounded the corner into the kitchen and my bottle was gone. I almost cried. Then I called Dan at work and he admitted to pouring the water down the sink and putting my bottle in the dishwasher. He claimed he was "just doing the dishes." I had hidden my habit better than I thought. Didn't he know my routine?! My dependency? That my will to get out of my bed each morning rested on the stuff in that bottle?
Anyways a days of withdrawls and I was as good as new. And I said the food wasn't stellar there excpet for this Thai restaurant. We could have stayed there all night! Not just because the food was so delicious but also because the service was slower that honey in Iceland.
But we couldn't even be mad because it all just tasted so good and we didn't have any whiners with us.
The next day was our all day Golden Circle Tour. We were taken to Thingvellir National Park.
And then to Geysir. It was really cool and really, really cold. And I hobbled like a 90 year old lady with a busted knee.
That's mostly what I remember: It was fricken freezing.
The last stop in the park was Gulfoss.
I have never, nor do I expect that I will ever, see anything as magnificent.
This is a place where the pictures absolutely do not do it justice.
I wanted to try with my DSLR, but I was literally so cold, I could hardly move my fingers to adjust the settings.
From the park, we went to the Fontana Hot Springs. I couldn't make geological sense of it.
There was a lake of cold water, surrounded by frozen hills, yet the banks of dirt were warm enough to bake bread. Which is what they did. Upon our arrival, we were taken to the edge of the lake where a pot of bread had been baking beneath the ground for the past 24 hours.
This guy's name is Snorri. I love it.
And then we were taken inside and fed warm rye bread with fresh butter. It was pretty good.
They were nice enough to publish their recipe, and I am nice enough to include it, just in case you have any boiling sand nearby.
I was reminded how American I am, when we entered the locker rooms and there was so much more nakedness than I'm used to. I waited my turn for the toilet room so I could change my clothes. I know, I know "when in Rome..." but no matter what I told myself, I would have had to be under the influence of something a lot stronger than Iceland water to strip down in front of these people.
Our hotel elevator had this mirror, just perfect for a couple selfie.
Our vacation package included a northern lights boat tour, but we also booked a land tout on our own, because we'd heard there is a better chance of seeing them, being more agile in a jeep. Our land tour kept getting cancelled though because of the lack of clear skies and finally rescheduled on the same night as the boat tour. Thus, we took to the land and the Marcks took to the sea in hopes of seeing the elusive Northern Lights.
After changing locations 3 times, we finally found them. I had packed a travel tripod for some long exposures but the wind was so strong, my camera wouldn't stay still. I ended up having better luck just holding it myself. And then the tour company was nice enough to take our picture with their camera and I stole it from Facebook.
The Northern Lights are the opposite of Gulfoss. Pictures only make them look better. I still loved seeing them, but interestingly enough, it was not the highlight of the trip as I had expected. But still a amazing experience nonetheless.
