Rekyjavik 22 July 2018

Rekyjavik 22 July 2018

The general feeling on board, including ourselves is that we would love to be on our way, but the schedule is for an evening and day in Reykjavik so we all make the best of it. The rain has eased, and we opt to go on the walking tour with Jura and Karl.  Even though we have walked the city it is good to do it as a guided tour.  

I love the women’s walk that celebrates the achievements of women. At the church, we shiver under umbrellas as Jura tells us the history.  It feels to me as if the architect got it perfectly right. Strong columns thrusting against the wind and sky.

We brace ourselves and walk back to the harbour.  Huge tower blocks now line the shore.  I ask if the population is growing.   ‘Oh no’ is the reply, ‘these are for the tourists.’

We hope to book another lunchtime concert.  Its billed as being Mendelssohn … not my favourite especially after the Royal Albert Hall, but we discover it is the same program that we heard yesterday. 

We battle through the wind and rain to the Museum of Settlement.   It was spectacular.  What a chequered history Iceland has had.  What a battle to survive the elements, starvation not forgetting of course the odd axe in the back of the head.

Satiated by facts we made our way to the thermal pool where we hope to  warm up.  First is the ritual shower where every nook and cranny of the body is scrubbed. People strip off exposing bodies of every shape and size.  Hysterectomy scars abound but I am the only one with the marks of a mastectomy.  People give a cursory glance but everyone is more concerned with getting in or out of the pool.

The moment has come.  I step out of the door with only my swimming costume as protection.  I gasp as the cold air and rain hits my body.  Quick as a flash into the warm swimming pool.  As I swim the lap I look longingly at the hot thermal pool where people laugh and chat convivially.  (The only place I have seen this happen in Iceland.)

The end of the lap and a sprint to the tub and I sink gratefully into 42 degree  water.  Every few minutes ducking my head underneath heat up my ears, nose and head. 

I see the locals putting their arms, legs and back in front of the pulsating water spouts, they tell me it is good for aches and pains.   I give it a try and it is wonderful.  My next problem is getting out.  The path to the dressing room stretches ahead of me.  I can’t put it off any longer.  I sprint across (didn’t know I could still do that) and into the dressing rooms.  Amazingly my whole body is glowing.  I soap up and shower once more.  Dressed in sweater, fleece, puffer jacket, hat, scarf I pop my swimmers into the spinner and then off down through the town.  The wind, rain and cold abated by my inner warmth… now I know why it is the most popular pastime.

Back on board just in time for dinner… delicious.. Everyone is keen to sail and relieved to see that the Captain has declined any wine this evening.  We listen to his report.  We are not assured.  This boat he tells us is built for the Mediterranean not Iceland.  Tonight will be rough.  Very rough.  In three days time it will be even worse.  We all dive for the seasickness tablets.   He is not wrong.

This night is the WORST sailing night on board.  We wallow and roll from side to side, expecting to be thrown to the floor at any second.