(I posted Day 2 earlier today, so if you missed it, here. Or, you know, just scroll down. That’s how blogs work.)
I’ll be honest – we didn’t do much on Day 3. We awoke early, for no reason other than “Hey, we’re in Iceland! We should leave the hotel and go do stuff! And things.” So we went out to breakfast and ate a kleina, which is a yummy twisty donut.
I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: the coffee in Iceland did nothing. But Iceland! Things! And so, barely conscious, we dragged our asses over to the harbor and attempted to wring some fun out of that. We found a fisherman statue:
Is the rock preventing the pallet from escaping? Is the pallet preventing the rock from escaping? ICELAND: LAND OF MYSTERY
The opera house was pretty fascinating. It goes by the name of Harpa, does a fun little light show at night, and has this crazy honeycomb design that seemed almost hypnotic (at least, it did under the influence of jet lag):
“This would be a pretty cool place for Björk to perform,” we joked, seconds before stumbling upon this waking nightmare:
Well, this was just so exciting, we promptly returned to the hotel to sleep for a few more hours. But we had a good reason: we wanted to be well-rested for…the Vikings!
Only a short walk from our hotel (up a hill made of sheer ice) sat Perlan, which, much like the cathedral in town, also resembles a spaceship. It’s a building that…okay, to be honest, I’m still not sure what Perlan is. It took us a full five minutes to find the entrance, was built out of old hot water tanks, and contains a couple of restaurants, a museum, and a gift shop, but also…offices? A conference center, maybe? There were a large number of Icelandic senior citizens gathered at the top of it, so…bingo hall?
But the best part of Perlan was the Saga Museum, Iceland’s very own version of Madame Tussaud’s. Now, if you know me at all (or even just met me in passing, as this is often the first thing I tell people about myself) you know that I am a total sucker for a good wax museum. So when faced with the prospect of wax Vikings instead of wax Will Smiths, and nearly triple the inadvertently hilarious facial expressions, I happily drained my camera battery.
“No, no, I’m glad you never asked for directions, dear. I’m sure running the ship aground on this arctic wasteland is the best thing that could have ever happened to us.”
The award for best face goes to this nun, who, while being burned alive, kept trying to figure out the plot of Inception to the very end.
And then, without warning, boobies.
But perhaps most amusing of all was the end of the exhibit: a big screen set up in front of a bench where you could sit and watch a Making-Of video about the museum. Some guy was sitting there, totally engrossed, and we took great pains not to walk in front of him as he watched, until–
Will: “Hang on a sec.”
Will: “That guy’s not real.”
Me: “What? Yes he is! He’s wearing headphones. He’s on the tour. Look how interested he is in that video!”
Will: *waves hand in front of the guy’s face*
Guy: *continues to be made of wax*
Me: *continues to be made of stupid*
Welp, that concludes our trip through Perlan, the Saga Museum, the wax Vikings, and — IS THAT A PILE OF CHAIN MAIL AND HELMETS AND SWORDS JUST SITTING THERE WAITING FOR US TO PLAY WITH THEM?
Since each square inch of chain mail weighs roughly as much as an oil tanker, we immediately overexerted ourselves, were forced to return to the hotel to haphazardly throw some food at our faces and – you guessed it – sleep like the dead.
Tomorrow: Icelandic horses! Museums of a questionable nature! Northern Lights hunt, Take 2: SUCCESS, OR YET ANOTHER FLAGRANT WASTE OF MONEY?