6/5/13, Wednesday
After the epic journey to Husavik and our first evening of midnight cheese tubbing, we sleep in. This will be the only time we do this for about a week. We visit the riverside house of Eysteinn Tryggvason, a big shot in the world of geophysics and seismology, and set up a seismometer. This needs to take measurements for at least an hour, so we kill time by going on a somewhat long driving tour of Husavik. The town really isn't that big, and so the tour involves a lot of weaving around and bumpiness. All of this while holding up various iPads with geological and topographic maps of the area. Slightly overwhelming and almost car sickness-inducing.
We stop at a cafe run by one of Benedikt's cousins (or something) to read conference abstracts. He seems to know someone, or multiple someones, in every town. We pick up the seismometer and redeploy in a beautiful house with a very friendly dog ("hundur" in Icelandic). We worry about its excessive tail-wagging as a possible source of vibrations.
Next we go to the Husavik hospital, climb a ladder, and spend some quality time on the roof in the warm North Iceland sun (no joke, I may have gotten very slightly burned). We check out the Canterbury Strong Motion instrument that Benedikt installs, then take a little time to lounge, do hand-stands (Laura is a maniac), and plank.
Back to the coffee house. After picking up the sensor yet again, this happens:
Then we go out to eat at the restaurant of one of Iceland's most famous chefs, although I don't think I ever asked his name. We check out the lovely view, and then check it out again wearing each others' eyeglasses. Laura starts her search for a tall, attractive Icelandic man to cook her some "rug bread" (Rúgbrauð, bread cooked in the warm Icelandic soil!). There's an apple cobbler on the menu that promises to lure travelers into staying permanently in Husavik, and we order a bunch of it. We'll see what happens..
The view:
Benedikt wearing my sunglasses:
Later that evening, Laura and I go on a fairly adventurous run along the river (through snow at times!) and up to Botnsvatn (a lake above Husavik). Or at least that's where we attempt to go. Somehow we lose the trail and end up in what seems like an endless field of what we've taken to calling "mush mush". Basically it consisted of mounds of hay-like vegetation, with lower-lying parts of varying degrees of mushiness. Maybe this becomes swampy in rainier seasons? We debate about going forward or turning back, and going forward obviously wins out. There are alien-like noises coming from the sky (apparently they were not so alien, and were actually emitted from this bird: Snipe! Hit play next to "Common Snipe song" and you'll hear the weird noise toward the end of the clip). We survive, reach the lake, and find that there actually is a nice trail (drivable, even) we could have taken. Fail.
On the way back down, we wish we had our cameras because it is absurdly beautiful. Amazing view of the mountains across the bay and the midnight sun (it's about 11:30pm at this point). We pass a potential paintball course, run up a wiggly path (we must have been missing SF), see some horses doing this, then arrive at the cheese tub. We are later joined by Camille, Benedikt, and Christian. Cheese tub lap swimming, cold water spraying, and general story telling ensue. First rule of the cheese tub is that you must always talk about the cheese tub. Second rule of the cheese tub is that no story can be told or listened to fully clothed.
This is Laura and Camille's reaction when getting sprayed by cold water (I am the only one to actually hop back in the hot tub to escape it..). I'm not sure it's very effective:
You can never have enough midnight sun (beautiful picture courtesy of Laura Weyl):
After the epic journey to Husavik and our first evening of midnight cheese tubbing, we sleep in. This will be the only time we do this for about a week. We visit the riverside house of Eysteinn Tryggvason, a big shot in the world of geophysics and seismology, and set up a seismometer. This needs to take measurements for at least an hour, so we kill time by going on a somewhat long driving tour of Husavik. The town really isn't that big, and so the tour involves a lot of weaving around and bumpiness. All of this while holding up various iPads with geological and topographic maps of the area. Slightly overwhelming and almost car sickness-inducing.
We stop at a cafe run by one of Benedikt's cousins (or something) to read conference abstracts. He seems to know someone, or multiple someones, in every town. We pick up the seismometer and redeploy in a beautiful house with a very friendly dog ("hundur" in Icelandic). We worry about its excessive tail-wagging as a possible source of vibrations.
Next we go to the Husavik hospital, climb a ladder, and spend some quality time on the roof in the warm North Iceland sun (no joke, I may have gotten very slightly burned). We check out the Canterbury Strong Motion instrument that Benedikt installs, then take a little time to lounge, do hand-stands (Laura is a maniac), and plank.
Back to the coffee house. After picking up the sensor yet again, this happens:
Then we go out to eat at the restaurant of one of Iceland's most famous chefs, although I don't think I ever asked his name. We check out the lovely view, and then check it out again wearing each others' eyeglasses. Laura starts her search for a tall, attractive Icelandic man to cook her some "rug bread" (Rúgbrauð, bread cooked in the warm Icelandic soil!). There's an apple cobbler on the menu that promises to lure travelers into staying permanently in Husavik, and we order a bunch of it. We'll see what happens..
The view:
Benedikt wearing my sunglasses:
Later that evening, Laura and I go on a fairly adventurous run along the river (through snow at times!) and up to Botnsvatn (a lake above Husavik). Or at least that's where we attempt to go. Somehow we lose the trail and end up in what seems like an endless field of what we've taken to calling "mush mush". Basically it consisted of mounds of hay-like vegetation, with lower-lying parts of varying degrees of mushiness. Maybe this becomes swampy in rainier seasons? We debate about going forward or turning back, and going forward obviously wins out. There are alien-like noises coming from the sky (apparently they were not so alien, and were actually emitted from this bird: Snipe! Hit play next to "Common Snipe song" and you'll hear the weird noise toward the end of the clip). We survive, reach the lake, and find that there actually is a nice trail (drivable, even) we could have taken. Fail.
On the way back down, we wish we had our cameras because it is absurdly beautiful. Amazing view of the mountains across the bay and the midnight sun (it's about 11:30pm at this point). We pass a potential paintball course, run up a wiggly path (we must have been missing SF), see some horses doing this, then arrive at the cheese tub. We are later joined by Camille, Benedikt, and Christian. Cheese tub lap swimming, cold water spraying, and general story telling ensue. First rule of the cheese tub is that you must always talk about the cheese tub. Second rule of the cheese tub is that no story can be told or listened to fully clothed.
This is Laura and Camille's reaction when getting sprayed by cold water (I am the only one to actually hop back in the hot tub to escape it..). I'm not sure it's very effective:
You can never have enough midnight sun (beautiful picture courtesy of Laura Weyl):
Laura wants to defend her obsession with the elusive Icelandic man wielding rug bread. Skip to 14:20 in this video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4vylAqx4Qjk
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