The Icelandic Canadian - 01.06.2004, Side 23

Vol. 58 #4
THE ICELANDIC CANADIAN
169
allowed since the flash of light could cause
the written words to further deteriorate.
The lights in this vault are only allowed to
be activated at certain times of the day and
for only a short specific amount of time.
We enjoyed a light lunch of lamb sausages
in the cafeteria before leaving for more
sight seeing. Bjarki parked the car and we
proceeded to walk through some of the
downtown area looking at some of the
stores and talking with people that Afi rec-
ognized from back home that were on our
charter flight. We walked by some church-
es, the parliament buildings, through some
parks and ended up by the harbour. We
entered one of the shipyard buildings
where Kristjan worked and shared some
coffee with him while he was on his break.
We made our way back to Bjarki’s car and
on to his house for yet, another great sup-
per.
It was now the last day of our trip,
August 11th. Afi and I had packed. Our
luggage was ready at the front door. The
phone rang - and it was Arsaril. He was in
Reykjavik for a doctor’s appointment and
said he would like to see us before we left
for the airport. He arrived at the door with
Icelandic sweaters under his arm knitted by
his daughter Asdls. Afi and I became the
proud owners of these beautiful sweaters.
Shortly after, Bjarki arrived to take us to
the bus depot in Reykjavik where we
would be transported to the Keflavik air-
port. In the meantime, all four of us men,
Arsasll, Bjarki, Afi and myself enjoyed one
last coffee. Afi, Bjarki and Arsaril are all
speaking Icelandic between fits of laughter
and head shaking. They reminded me of
three college buddies reminiscing after
being away from each other for many
years.
Once we were boarded on the bus for
Keflavik, Afi suggested that he could have
easily enjoyed at least another two weeks
here. He had a list of people that he want-
ed to visit, but time did not allow. He did
however manage to reach some of these
people by telephone from Lolo’s house in
Reykjavik.
We were at the Keflavik airport. Our
luggage was checked at the ticket counter
and we were given our boarding passes. We
entered the duty free shopping area where
we met Uncle Arthur and Aunt Karen
from Geysir. We had not seen them since
PHOTO COURTESY OF BLAIR SWANSON
Inside the police station in Saudarkrokur. Left to right: Arsaell Hannesson who farms near
Selfoss, Afi, and Gudmundur Oli Palsson, the police chief in Saudarkrokur.