So, ok… as a result of my tripadvisor post, I contacted an Iceland tour company that people highly recommended. Of course, in my email to the company I profusely apologized for
potentially wasting their time, stating, “not only is it more likely that you’ll see pigs fly before I actually get to Iceland, but the pigs will be dressed as Elton John, carrying tiny pianos and sweating profusely.”
An agency representative with an unpronounceable name that begins with an “E” responded, “Most people think they won’t actually go. Then they do. And then they get their friends and family to go. It’s like a cult.”
[I liked that response. But, really, is this a step toward making the trip a reality….or just one more footfall toward the cliff of disappointment? As I waxed poetic in a previous post:D*mn you, House Hunters International.]
Anyway, “E” suggested that along with chasing the Northern Lights, it would behoove me to visit the Blue Lagoon. All I can think of when I hear that name is the cheesy Brooke Shields movie, but truth be told, I never saw it. I just know that Brooke Shields and Blue Lagoon go together like Jennifer Lawrence and District 12. Sympathetic “E” regaled me with stories of soothing, swirling geothermal waters, and how they would help heal my gimpity sawed-through spine. And THEN, “E” said, I’d be prepared to visit the famed ice wall used in the Game of Thrones filming.
Wait… what?! I love me some Game of Thrones! I didn’t know it was partially filmed in Iceland, though it makes sense. Now this blasted dream vacay is even more appealing to me. I’ve even started referring to it as my “Walter Stark” mash-up trip.
Day 10, another first: In talks with a company about following in the footsteps of ex-Mrs. Agassi and Daenerys Mitty. Nothing gets between me and my
Each day of 2014, I’m
forcing encouraging myself to have at least one new experience (and chronicling it to keep it real). If you’re interested in why–though I can’t for the life of me imagine anyone would be that bored–check out the “about” page.