It's over. We're home. There's nothing left to say (of course, that won't stop me).
Gratuitous airport shot (deal with it).
Nick is actually carrying bags of duty free liquor into Iceland.
Well done, Grasshopper. Well done.
Because there's nothing more scenic than baggage claim.
Geysers! Thank God for burst mode.
(We have a hundred pictures of just the crowd standing there looking at nothing.)
Patty found this completely by chance in a mile long stretch of nearly identical boulders.
Totally appreciate the Nordic sense of humor.
Funky opera house. Everyone else was taking pictures of it.
What the hell. I can be a sheep.
If Ansel Adams was in a frat.
Actually had to merge with these on the highway at one point
(and, yet, still better than the exit at M-59 on I-75).
Nick, fully appreciating the gravity of proper hot dog selection.
Patty, not nearly as much.
Yep, that's grass growing on that table. Service could be quicker.
Icelanders LOVE to talk American politics. Betcha' never guess which candidate they support.
More of this ah-loo-minium thing.
Ponies with mountains and a glacier in the background (I got nothing for this; it's basically filler).
Better shot of the Lego Lutheran church.
Reykjavik (or Portland, or Seattle, or New Brunswick)
Since I brought my nephew, Patty brought her knees.
Never did walk over to find out what this was, but from the looks of things, it was very cold out that day.
Sibs sipping suds.
Kilroy was here.
While puffins were there.
"I have such a headache!"
"Don't worry. I see Tylenol right over there."
This is the end of the road (and what every cemetery in Europe looks like).
