The shuttle from the airport dropped us off at Ingólfstorg, the town square. We stayed at Central Apartments on this block, but had to kill about 6 hours in a sleepy delirium before we could check in. Notice the rainy grayness, as it will become a running theme.
To kill the time until check-in we wandered around looking for a cafe that was open before 8:00 am and had free wireless internet. We found one called Cafe Paris down this street.
We bought some breakfast at the cafe (though it was kind of like a second dinner for us, not having slept) and I saw one of the few Icelandic words I already knew: smjör (butter).
After spending a couple hours in Cafe Paris, we started to feel bad about our loitering and left to wander more. We discovered Tjörnin, the small lake in the center of the city, and its variety of waterfowl.
... Fast forward through a 5 hour nap after we were finally able to check into our room ...
More food came next, and there was an Indian place outside our room (this picture was actually taken from our apartment window). The meal ruled, particularly the naan.
Back to wandering the neighborhood after dinner. This is a view up Skólavörđustígur to the large chuch called Hallgrímskirkja. We'll visit it in the daytime on another page, so better pictures await.
On the way back to the apartment, we stopped at a convenience store to sample a variety of Icelandic candy bars. Stórt Ćđi was my favorite of these. It's covered in shaved coconut, clearly an ancient staple of the native Icelanders.
On the morning of day two we became acquainted with our extremely tiny shower, which we affectionately renamed "Scalding Fart Prison."
This is due to Iceland's hot tap water coming from all their natural hot springs, so it comes out just below boiling temperature and smelling of sulfur. The upside is the hot water is cheap and doesn't run out, but your tradeoff is the sensation of showering in buttcheeks.
This first picture was taken a block away from the center of the capital. We loved how the buildings were so remarkably small and quaint for being in the middle of Iceland's largest city.
We did a bit of Sunday shopping in the Kolaportiđ flea market. Notice the "BIKE LOVEING A TO PUNISHTHEIR OWN" sweatshirt - clearly a message on which we can all agree.
For our second evening's dinner we popped into Víkingakráin, despite its limited vegetarian options. Surprisingly, neither of us ordered the boiled sheep's head. We both had pizza.
Our main reason for dining at this Viking-themed establishment was for the comedic history of Iceland performance that takes place every night at 8:00. Here you can see a blurry photo of our actress being stabbed by an audience participant, and Maggie and I holding some rune sticks. We learned a good deal about Ingólfur Arnarson.