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                  Tonight Cara and I walked along volcanic rock on the edge of
                  the Atlantic harbor of Reykjavik, and she shivered under her
                  layers and talked of dressing more warmly tomorrow. It's not
                  as cold as Svalbard here, but it sure is plenty cold. The
                  hour long bus ride in from the airport gave us an excellent
                  showcase of barren lava fields covered with naught but scrub
                  in a symphony of purple, green, and every shade of black. The
                  kids were back in the hotel room watching TV and relaxing
                  after an evening of travel. Icelandic is not so hard to read
                  if you know a Scandinavian language, but I sure can't
                  understand it spoken. I taught the kids the letters eth and
                  thorn and told them about how Anglo-Saxon had once used them
                  before 1066. Conquest was a terrible and beautiful thing for
                  the English language.
                 
                
                  I started work earlier than usual today because I knew we'd
                  be traveling this evening, and now that we're back I'm sitting
                  in the hotel bar enjoying an Icelandic porter (meh) while
                  reviewing pull requests. Iceland's timezone is two hours
                  earlier than Bergen's and it's still fully light out, so I'm
                  still pretty wired even though it's 11 PM. Reykjavik definitely
                  has a vibrancy to it!
                 
                
                  After Cara and I did a little junk shopping, we went to do her
                  truly favorite activity: visit the local grocery store.
                  Icelandic krona are worth roughly one American penny which
                  makes the math super easy. I thought Norway was expensive! And
                  whereas Norwegian grocery stores can only sell beers up to 4.7%
                  alcohol, here in Iceland the limit's 2.25%. But I can pay at
                  the hotel bar in botcoin if I want, showing Iceland's still at
                  the forefront of currency speculation.
                 
                
                  Walking around tonight Cara & I passed a restaurant with
                  puffin on the menu. Arctic fucking puffin! We saw some in
                  Svalbard including on who couldn't get his fast ass up out of
                  the water to get away from our boat so he did this wild flappy
                  thing across the surface instead. I'm excited to eat one, but
                  Cara just wants to see more of them. Meanwhile Zara's aiming
                  to not have to leave the hotel tomorrow. Not sure that'll work
                  out for you, nugget.
                 
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