Lang leve de koning!

Last weekend was another whirlwind weekend.  I met a friend who lives in Zurich in Amsterdam.  She asked to be called "Veronica" in my blog (in part because it sounded exotic and in part in case I wrote anything incriminating).  Even though my eyes were superbly bloodshot from lack of sleep (not pot, I swear), it was a pretty tame weekend altogether so I don't think there is anything indecent to reveal, but who knows where this blog will take me.  

This was my first time visiting Amsterdam and I have to say that it was lovely.  By chance, we happened to be there the weekend before the current queen (Queen Beatrix) was abdicating the throne to her son, Prince Willem-Alexander.  And by even more coincidence, we were staying within walking distance of where the coronation was to occur, Dam Square.  The coronation was actually today (Tuesday) on so-called "Queen's Day", but the parties had already begun.  This was a big deal for the Netherlands because it is the first king they have had since 1890.  Beatrix (or Trixie as I like to call her) has been on the throne for over 30 years.  The entire city was decked out in orange (the royal family is from the House of Orange-Nassau) and crowns.

It appears that Trixie was pretty well liked because there were all sorts of articles and dedications to her.  Check out one of the chalk notes that a little girl had posted on the sidewalk. (By the way, the little girl was so excited to have me take a picture of it ---- it was so cute.)

"Veronica" and I had a bit of fun with some of the decorations. No, I didn't get bangs.  In case you were confused, that's "Veronica" on the throne, not me.  

Outside of all the coronation hoopla, the town itself is beautiful.  There are over 60+ miles of canals with over 1500 bridges.  For two girls who love water and walking, that was a match made in heaven.  

I have no idea why I'm laughing here.

On Saturday, we wandered through the streets of Amsterdam just chatting and taking in the sights.  We strolled through Vondelpark, the largest park in Amsterdam.  It's their version of Central Park.  We figured out later that night that we probably walked for about 5 hours.  For someone who had woken up at 3am to catch an early morning flight, that was pretty darn impressive.  (It's not Ironman impressive, but still.)

We did take a break to enjoy the view.

That night, we were both exhausted and were camped out in bed by 10pm.  I know...party animals, you say.  In a city known for sex and drugs, we enjoyed nature and went to bed early.  What can I say?  I like to be different.

Unfortunately, sleep was not something that was easy to get.  I pretty much passed out from sheer exhaustion (I only got 2 hours of sleep the night before), but "Veronica" was kept awake by the trams that came screeching down the street in front of the hotel.  I heard them a few times, but nothing could keep me awake for long.  Sadly, even though we switched rooms the next night, we still didn't get sleep because our upstairs neighbors were either killing each other or having a clog dancing festival.  Not sure which.

On Sunday morning, we were both slow-going.  My requirement was coffee and "Veronica's" was pancakes.  We found a cute little place that satisfied both aptly named "Pancakes!".  (Imagine me shouting that all day because that is what happened.)  Their pancakes are not like IHOP.  They are almost like crepes, but they were dee-licious.  

After breakfast, we went to the Anne Frank Museum.  Ugh...talk about heart-breaking.  The house itself isn't that big.  It is the second house from the right.  If you look closely, you can see the line out front.

Anne Frank House

They do a good job of mixing video with passages to read as you walk through all the rooms.  They had the actual diary there (a little red plaid number and additional notebooks) as well as the Oscar that Shelley Winters received for her part in the movie.  It was so sad to see the video interviews with some of the people that hid the family, her friends from the concentration camp, and even her own father.  The amount of pain that man had to go through --- seeing your entire family decimated --- was heart wrenching.

After that heavy experience, we needed a little levity, so we walked around and supported the local economy, checked out the flowers....

...and enjoyed the little cheese shops.

    Yum...cheese...

Later that night, I made sure we at least walked through the Red Light District.  I had heard so much about the sex shops that I had to "see it to believe it".  I think that might have been more depressing than the Anne Frank House.  All these girls just hanging out in the windows in their underwear.  Some of them looked like they were 16 years old.  For obvious reasons, you aren't able to take pictures, but I did get a picture of the general area.

Red Light District

It's hard to see in this picture, but there are a lot of neon lights and little seedy alleys off this canal and that is where a lot of the women are.  Depressing.

Despite the Red Light District and the ever-present cloud of pot smoke, I'm a big fan of Amsterdam.  Everywhere we went, people were so nice.  They seemed genuinely happy to have us in their city and they seemed disappointed to find out that we weren't going to be there to help them celebrate their new king.  

I'm becoming a big fan of all these monarchies...

Celebrity Sightings --- for real!

I still have to write about the rest of my time with Teresa, but I wanted to make sure to write this post before I forgot the details.  (Kurt & Kelly, you might like this one.)

Last night, I went to Sundance.  No, I didn’t wing my way over the pond and travel back in time (Sundance is typically in January).  For the second year in a row, Sundance came to London.  Last year was the first time that Robert Redford extended Sundance beyond Utah.

For those not in the know, Sundance is a non-profit organization started by Robert Redford that works to promote the work of artists throughout the world.  Most people know it for the festival that is put on every year in Utah to showcase independent films.  It’s become a bit of a boondoggle, but the concept is to promote independent films/documentaries/etc. that might not normally get made in Hollywood.  Sundance also promotes other types of artists (e.g. ceramics, painting, etc.) and is the home of a kick ass ski resort with a really nice ski instructor (ahh…Wendy).  But, I digress.

I found out randomly that Sundance was going to be London.  I read an interview with Robert Redford in the paper talking about the event.  Since I am going to be traveling this weekend, I didn’t think I would be able to attend at all, but I was able to find a ticket to the documentary “History of the Eagles: Part One”.   This documentary details the progression of the band The Eagles from creation to their breakup.

First of all, the event was held at The O2.  This is a massive arena southeast of the city.  Not exactly a quaint Utah town.

As you can probably see from the picture, Pink was also playing at The O2, so there was quite the range of people there.

The movie didn’t start until 9pm (late for a school night).  As I was waiting for the movie to start, in comes a troop of people who were seated in a reserved section 3 rows behind me.  Now, this was a feature event of the festival, so I assumed that the seats were reserved for a bunch of sponsors.  Well, there were sponsors that were seated there, but the troop of people that came in were none other than The Eagles themselves --- Don Henley, Glenn Frey, Joe Walsh and Timothy B. Schmidt!  I was more than a little surprised. 

Well, the surprises kept coming.  Before the flick started, out walks Robert Redford to introduce Sundance and the film itself.  Um, hello?!?  For anyone who knows me, I’m a big fan of celebrity sightings, so this was like a veritable feast.  All these legends in one room!  (Someone at M*, tell Nadine.  She never believes me, but I have pictures this time!)

The movie itself was pretty good.  I only knew part of their story, so it was interesting to learn the whole history.  Who knew that Jackson Brown lived below Glen Frey in an apartment in California?  OK, let me rephrase that --- who, other than Kurt, knew that Jackson Brown lived below Glenn Frey? 

The filmmaker had old concert footage and filmed interviews with quite a few people: Kenny Rogers, Linda Ronstadt, Jackson Brown, and others who had been with The Eagles during their formative years.  Those were nice, fluffy interviews, but they also had interviews with ex-band members (Bernie Leadon and Randy Meisner) and David Geffen, whom The Eagles had sued back in the day.  Those were less fluffy.  I kept looking back at the band to see if they were cringing during some of those interviews because they were NOT complimentary.  This obviously wasn’t the first time they had seen the film, so they were taking it in stride, but it had to sting a little.

After the film, the band came up on stage and did a Q&A with the audience.  Most of the questions were pretty standard.  

They did admit that watching it was a bit painful, but they said they wouldn’t do anything different.  Glenn Frey did a lot of the talking.  When Joe Walsh spoke, both in the film and during the Q&A, it was trippy.  That man must have done some serious damage to his brain cells over time because having him tell a story was a bit painful.  He was rambling and spoke like he was drunk.  He did tell one funny story in the film about how they were in Chicago and John Belushi came to take Joe out.  They tried to get into a restaurant at the Drake, but were not allowed in because they were wearing jeans.  John Belushi proceeded to take Joe into the alley and they each spray-painted each other’s jeans black.  They were allowed to go back into the restaurant, but they destroyed the chairs because their jeans were still wet and they left black marks all over the chairs.

All in all, it was pretty cool.  I recommend the movie.  (I think it is either on DVD or on Showtime.)  I am very glad that I got to experience the whole thing.  I’m sure it was nothing like the real Sundance event, but 5 celebrities in one night.  Not too bad for a school night!

Summer!

It is 70 degrees in London right now.  I'm sitting outside in the courtyard of our offices doing some work and I'm looking at my pasty arm that is so pale it is almost transparent.  From what I understand from my workmates, today is summer.  After today, it is supposed to drop 20 degrees and summer will be gone.  Guess my hopes of coming home with a savage tan are out the window....

"To Be Or Not To Be"...OK, wrong play

My sister Teresa was in town the past week with her friend Abby, so it has been a whirlwind.  I'm going to have to do a couple of posts to cover everything we did.

Last night, we did something that I have wanted to do for a while ---- see a play in the Shakespeare Globe Theatre.  Shakespeare's Globe is a reconstruction of the original the theatre that Shakespeare (along with 3 other actors) owned back in the late 1500s.  The theatre burned down in 1613 during a performance of Henry VIII when a stage cannon accidentally ignited the thatched roof of the theatre (oops!).  They rebuilt the theatre, but it ultimately was demolished in 1644.  A Chicago actor (and Goodman Theatre alum), Sam Wanamaker, championed rebuilding the theatre based upon what they thought the theatre looked like (being that it was before the days of the iPhone where you can Google everything).  

The result of this reconstruction is an open theater with 3 tiers and an open standing room only floor that looks like a mosh pit, albeit a civilized one.  

(Side note: I don't recommend the most pit.  It is a long time to stand.  Some chick passed out while watching the play and had to be carted off.  Props to the actors for not even skipping a beat.)  Each tier has wooden benches with no backs, so they rent out little cushions and chair backs.  We got the cushions (good call, Teresa!), but we didn't get the chair backs.  Three hours in, I was thinking it would have been a good idea to get one of those.  My posture is terrible and it was never more evident then when I was hunched over on those benches.

I digress....The play we went to see was "The Tempest".  Now, I don't know if you are a Shakespeare fan, but I feel like you have to be in the right mindset for Shakespeare.  It's not light reading (or listening for that matter).  Teresa had seen the play and remembered the plot line.  Abby and I had not seen the play, but I believe I read it back in high school.  We prepped ourselves ahead of time by reading the synopsis ahead of time over a drink at the bar attached to the Globe --- the Swan.

My summary of the play is this: a man (Prospero) is duped out of his rightful title and shipwrecked on an island with his daughter (Miranda).  As luck would have it, 12 years later, the ship carrying the people responsible for his exile (one of whom is his brother) are passing by his island, so he conjures up a storm to make them run aground.  He makes the dude that took his title (Alonso) think that his son, (Ferdinand) who was also on the ship, died.  Meanwhile, Ferdinand meets Prospero's daughter and they fall in love.  Miranda has never seen another man other than her father, so she doesn't realize that he is really a dork.  (OK, that last part was me editorializing.  But, really, the guy was super dorky looking.)  Anyway, Prospero also has an evil slave monster (Caliban) and a noble spirit (Ariel) working for him.  Basically, Prospero is hell bent on revenge, but then he when he brings them all together, he forgives them.  He then sends Ferdinand and Miranda off into the happily ever after.  (Yes, I realize this is a ghetto-Crib Notes version of the play, but it does the trick).

The play was very good.  The man in the role of Prospero, Roger Allam, was very impressive (he played a character in "Game of Thrones" at one point).  The guy who played the spirit Ariel, Colin Morgan, is fairly new and he was amazing (he was in Dr. Who --- Kelly, tell your students!).

It was a beautiful night to watch a play, especially outdoors.  It was in the 60s and not a cloud in the sky.  The Globe is set up on the south bank of the Thames, so after the play was over, this is view.

It really was a perfect night.  One thing that I forgot to mention was that yesterday was Shakespeare's birthday.  What an appropriate day to go see one of his plays!  I was really hoping we would get cake, but I guess I can't be too greedy.

How Do You Explain Craziness?

I've been getting a lot of questions from my workmates about the events at the Boston Marathon.  They all want to know if if anyone had claimed responsibility.  I think they must think that as a US citizen, I get some special announcement.  Sadly, I'm just cruising CNN and Facebook for updates like everyone else.

The question of who did it evolved into a conversation about whether it was done by someone domestically.  What was sad to admit (and embarrassing at the same time) was that the fact that it could have been anyone.  There are a lot of people out there that hate Americans -- both within the borders and outside of them.  I don't see it reflected here.  The most negative reaction I get is when they make fun of my pronunciation of certain words like "schedule" and "process".  ("Aluminum" was the newest one --- I still can't pronounce it the way the Brits do.)

I'm not surprised by the empathy that the Brits have shown throughout all this.  After all, they have experienced their own tragedies with bombings.  The interesting thing is all the theories they have as to why someone would have done it --- anywhere from rebelling against taxes (being that it was executed on Tax Day) to a statement against Patriots Day.  They don't understand why nobody claimed credit.  Their rationalization is that if their cause was that important, they would have claimed responsibility.  If not, then why do it?  I tried to explain that the US is full of whack jobs (how pathetic of an explanation is that!) and trying to explain it is almost impossible.  How do you explain craziness?

The Queen, Rocks and Romans...

While I didn't leave the UK (or Great Britain or England for that matter), I did do a bit of traveling this weekend.  Against my better judgement, I decided to take a tour of Stonehenge, Windsor Castle and Bath.  I say "against my better judgement" because I hate going on tours, especially big tour buses.  Sometimes, they are necessary --- in Iceland, it was pretty important to be on a tour in order to hear all the commentary about the countryside.  I chose a small tour there and even that one was a little annoying (mostly due to the hungover Aussies).  I couldn't find a reasonably priced smaller tour here, so I had to resort to the one with the best reviews on TripAdvisor.  Unfortunately, it was one of those massive buses that pour out a million tourists with cameras around their necks.  There were 53 people on the tour bus.  I will say that it was one of the best run tours I've been on.  We never had to wait longer than 2 minutes from the specified time to move on to our next location.  Everyone was pretty considerate in that respect.  

Windsor Castle
Windsor Castle was a quick drive out of the city.  We only had about 1.5 hours there, so I didn't have enough time to have tea with the Queen (she was home) and tour the place, so I chose to just tour the castle.  (I can do tea with the Queen anytime!)  The castle itself is impressive and the grounds are beautiful.  They don't allow you to take pictures inside the castle, but I did take lots of pictures outside.

The State Apartments inside the castle were a little ornate for me and the Queen Mary Doll's House totally creeped me out (miniatures and clowns creep me out), but I really liked the St. George's Chapel.  Henry VIII and Jane Seymour (not Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman, Henry's third wife) are both buried there as is Charles I.  It is also the chapel of the Order of the Garter, the highest order of English knighthood.  The coats of arms of the various knights are all displayed on the ceiling of the chapel.

While I was on the grounds of the castle, they had the changing of the guards.  Afterwards, I was walking to the bus and nearly got run over by some of the guards.  Those guards take their job seriously.

Stonehenge
After Windsor, we got back on the bus and drove about an hour to Stonehenge.  The thing about Stonehenge is that it is a bunch of rocks.  It's in the middle of nowhere and it is a bunch of rocks.  The weather there is usually lousy (cold and rainy) and it is a bunch of rocks.  Yes, it is interesting because it is estimated at being 3100 BC.  But it is a bunch of rocks.  OK....old rocks.  The kicker is that nobody really knows why it was built.  As part of the ticket, you get an audio guide.  You essentially walk around the rocks in a circle and the audio guide talks about how they think it was built (lugging some of these 4 ton rocks from southwest Wales) and how the rocks are heavy and old and nobody knows why they were built.  Speculation ranges from human sacrifice to astronomy.  Quite the range there.  You would think by now, they would have been able to figure out why the darn thing was made.  Didn't anybody leave a note?  Instructions on how to use it?

As you can see, I was thrilled to be there.

Bath
After the successful trip to Stonehenge, we drove another hour or so to the town of Bath.  Bath is in the county of Somerset in southwest England.  It is about 100 miles from London and is a UNESCO World Heritage Site (essentially the United Nations stamp of approval).  It is the home of the remains of the only Roman hot springs bath.  These hot springs were supposed to have healing qualities, so a temple was built around 50 A.D. and dedicated to Sul, a Celtic god and Minerva, the Roman goddess of healing.  The baths still have natural hot water flowing, although it looks nasty, so I wouldn't ever consider bathing in it no matter what kind of skin condition I had.

The city of Bath itself is very cute.  Lots of architecturally impressive buildings.  It's also known for blown glass.  Unfortunately, I wasn't there long enough to get a full tour of the town, but I will definitely be back.

All in all, it was about a 12 hour day.  Granted, I wasn't on my feet that whole time, but it was a long day.  In retrospect, I wish I would have done these trips in three separate chunks.  It would have given me more time in Bath and Windsor.  I could have done the drive-by on Stonehenge.  Oh well, next time, I will trust my gut.

I truly will have to wait until next year...

There have been a number of things that have been tough to handle since I've been here --- being away from my family, trying to keep in touch with my friends, figuring out when to talk to Tom when I'm heading to work when he is heading to bed.  The list goes on.  I knew that I was going to miss events when I decided to take on this gig.  So far, the hardest one to stomach was Opening Day.

It's been the tradition for....Kelly, how many years?  I always forget!.  Let's say 15+ years.  So, for the past 15+ years, I've woken up at 5am or so to get dressed and walk over to Yakzie's to celebrate Opening Day and listen to XRT's breakfast broadcast.  Now, mind you, I usually bitch about getting up that early and question why I do it, but I never regret it.

This year, it was really hard for me to stomach not being around.  All day, I thought of all the little traditions that we usually experience:

• The inevitable annual night before discussion about "which coat are you going to wear?" and the other prep to make sure we have hand warmers, Kleenex, anti-bacterial gel, fully charged phone, etc.  This ain't our first rodeo.  We are serious about it.
• Walking in and bypassing Lin Brahmer to make sure to grab the big circle table in the back.
• Picking up the free CDs XRT hands out and mooching an extra copy for Kurt.
• Having Kathy S bring us breakfast from McDonald's.
• Ordering a bloody mary or screwdriver at 7am and remembering how bad they are there.
• Seeing Mom walking into the bar early and leaving when it gets too loud.
• Seeing the creative new shirt that the table behind us makes.  This year's version is here thanks to my friend Heather.  The back said...."Keep the Cubs in Chicago....send Tunney to Rosemont".

• Sort of listening to the Waco Brothers or whatever other band is playing.
• Visiting with the various groups of people that come in and out throughout the day.  There are a number of people that I only see once a year.

The list of memories goes on and on.  I love this annual tradition.

I tried to replicate it a little by streaming XRT (with a little help from the spoofer Kurt gave me to get around the international streaming restrictions).  Thankfully, the head of the UK office is an American and die-hard Royals fan, so he understood.

I was able to hear Lin's Bin and The Regular Guy's Prayer, but it wasn't the same.  One thing I guess I never noticed since I was in the bar --- man, they play a lot of commercials!

Anyway, it sounds like it turned out to be a beautiful day for a game, even though the Cubs lost.  I did receive a number of FB shout-outs, texts, emails and pictures. 

 

Wheeler, PWC and Jaci

So nice....but not quite the same.

I guess I have to take solace in the fact that there will be a next year.  Mark your calendars now!

Weird day of people watching and people watching me

I had a nice relaxing weekend.  No international travel, so this post might be a bit boring for you all.

The weather was beautiful this weekend -- 50 and sunny --- so every Londoner and tourist was out and about trying to take advantage off the little bit of sunshine.  The sun comes so infrequently that when we see it, we are bit like vampires ---- squinting and holding our hands up to protect us from its blazing rays.  To take advantage of it, I walked around Covent Garden and Soho and basically just got lost in the streets and people watched.  I sat in Soho Gardens and had a sandwich and watched people go by.  

At one point, I was wandering around Covent Garden.  I had just walked out of a shop and was wandering down the street when a young guy came running up to me.  My first inclination was to grab my purse and take 2 steps back. (How else am I supposed to react?)  He then proceeded to say "I know this is a bit odd, but I was back there with my friends and I saw you from across the street.  I don't know what it is, but you have this really aggressive vibe and I just wanted to compliment you."  I was a bit stunned and stammered "Uh...thank you."  Thank you?  Really?  Do I want to be complimented for having "an aggressive vibe"?  What does that even mean?  I know I was wearing a black leather jacket, but still.  He was really nice and seemed to mean it as a compliment, so I couldn't do anything but smile and walk way.

Later on, I was running along the Thames and I noticed all these people staring at me.  What the heck?!?  What is with today?  I started getting paranoid and thinking I had something on my face or something.  It took me a while to figure it out, but people were looking at my Cubs shirt.  I think there were a lot of Americans.  It was humorous because you could see them look at my shirt and then look at my face to see if they possibly could know me. 

After my run, I got home and was jamming in my flat to the new JT album (Caroline introduced me to it and I'm obsessed!).  Anyway, I happened to look out my balcony window and see a guy relaxing in his recliner...watching me.  Oops...I'm sure I was quite the spectacle.  

I tend to think that I can blend in and be invisible.  I guess I should be aware that for as much as I'm watching people, people are watching me.  

Iceland - Day 2 - Golden Circle

After the Northern Lights tour, I thought the rest of the trip would be a disappointment.  I'm happy to report that I was wrong.  

It was an early morning after a late night.  I chose one of the smaller tours, which was a good choice because the smaller bus was able to get to some places that weren't accessible by the large tour buses.  There were 11 of us plus the drive named Gummi (seriously, Gummi).  There was a group of 7 Australian kids (men & women) in their 20s who were hung over from the night before. Two British women, a woman from Montreal named Maria (who became my buddy throughout the day) and me.  

The Golden Circle tour is touted as a "must see" and I see why.  It is beautiful.  It takes about 45 minutes to get to the first site, which is the 
Þingvellir National Park.  Gummi gave some commentary about the sites along the way, but the Australians slept through the whole thing.  We stopped off in a couple of spots along the way, including this spot which had a view of the lake and a bunch of these small towers of stones (called cairns).  

I built my own little version.

It wasn't until we got back in the van that Gummi informed us that it was illegal.  Seriously?  You trying to get me thrown in the pokey, Gummi?  Actually, after questioning him further to make sure I wasn't going to get in trouble, he informed me that it was only illegal if you dug up the stones, not if you found them just on the ground (which is what I did).  

After my near-crime, we traveled on to the heart of the park, which is the site of Iceland's first parliament.  Þingvellir means "Parliament Plains" and was the site of the Alþing general assembly from around 930 until 1798. They would convene on this site once per year to recite the laws (nothing was written down, so some dude was responsible for memorizing all the laws and reciting them ---- talk about a boring job!).  

Since those times, Iceland has celebrated major events at Þingvellir.  It is also where the American and Eurasian tectonic plates are pulling apart.

Because of the geothermal activity, the plates are constantly shifting.  You can get pretty close to the edge of it.  In the picture above, that gap is the crevice between the two plates.  (Don't worry, Kelly, I didn't feel the urge to throw myself over.)

The hungover Australians got lost on this part of the trip.  Gummi dropped us off in one area and asked us to walk down a bridge to this flagpole.  He was going to drive the van around and pick us up at another parking lot in the park.  Somehow along that straight line, they felt the urge to find some greasy food and wandered off.  Mind you --- we are in the middle of a national park.  Fast food places aren't exactly commonplace.  Anyway, we spent about 1/2 hour tracking them down before we located them (in the exact wrong area --- nowhere near any flagpoles).  One guy was apologetic, but the rest were too hungover to do anything other than scarf down the chips they were able to find.  

Our next spot sobered up the Australians.  We went to the Gullfoss waterfall. 
Gullfoss (translated "Golden Falls" - hence "Golden" in "Golden Circle") is in the river Hvítá, which has its origin in the glacier lake Hvítávatn.  It was frickin' cold, but it was beautiful.  

The picture above doesn't do it justice.  I tried to capture it on video, but it also doesn't do it justice. 

We were able to wander around Gullfoss and have lunch overlooking the mountains.  The Australians scarfed down some more food and got back to the van in time, thankfully.

The next stop was the geyser hot spot (pun intended) in the Haukadalur geothermal area.  Along the way, we made a pit stop in this little town called Fontana, which is known for its rye bread.  Rye bread, big deal, right?  It's actually the way they made the rye bread that is unique.  They wrap the dough in some material, bury it in the ground and leave it in there for 24 hours with a marker on top of it.

The geothermal grounds act as a natural oven and when they dig it up after the 24 hours, the bread is done.  We didn't get a chance to try the bread because it was too hot to unwrap, but it was cool to see.  

There are a number of geysers in the hot springs, but the most active was Strokkur.  It shoots up 98 feet every 4-8 minutes.  The water is boiling when it comes out, but cools quickly, which is good because I got sprayed a handful of times.  Below is a video of one of the eruptions.  I feel like Barney Stinson when I say "Wait for it..."

All in all, pretty cool.  There were a handful of other stops and 100 other stories about the Australians (they had Gummi drop them off at a liquor store outside of town so they could get some beer before the stores stop selling it in stores after 6pm), but I realize that this post is getting excessively long.  Essentially, after the last stop (a crater where Bjork played --- so cool), we drove back to Reykjavik.  A long day (9-6), but well worth it.

Suffice it to say I think Iceland is wonderful. Except for the beach goer (it only gets to be about 75 degrees Fahrenheit), it has something for everyone. It has biking, shopping, scuba diving, snorkeling, golf, glacier walking, whale watching, spas, rock climbing, etc. It is really easy to get around because there are only about 4 major roads. Everyone speaks English because they realize that nobody speaks Icelandic (and it doesn't resemble any other common language). And everyone seems to be really nice. Not nice because they feel like their tourism depends on it, but rather that they are genuinely nice. (Kind of like the people at Trader Joe's. They always seem genuinely happy to see you, too.) Anyway, I digress. I highly recommend it. In fact, I'd love to go back in the summer when it is 24 hours of sunlight. Gummi told me about a golf tournament that anyone can join that kicks off at 11pm when it is still sunny. How cool would that be? Who's with me?