Cardinal Sins

So, I left Iceland last week. It was much sadder than I was anticipating. But that’s down buzz and boring, so let’s talk about the second major event of the week. Dads’ arrival in Germany and my rendezvous with him - equally as entertaining but not nearly as downbuzz.

Brandenburg Gate

Having met up with Dad and having hung out with him for a few days, I now feel that the past 6 ½ months have been something of a dream. In some ways it is nice that I feel life no time has passed, however, in other ways, it is not so good.

Chilling on the River Spree

Our honeymoon period lasted about 5 minutes. I then proceeded to committing cardinal sins, left, right and centre. For example:

Berlin cathedral

I lost the cap the one of the water bottles that is coming with us to Morocco as a water bottle, but without the cap is rendered useless. Thus, we are already down to a measly 3 water bottles (that could not be bought in Morocco). 

Schloss Charlottenburg

I do not check the door handle after locking the door (I trust the process). This leads to Dad double checking every time that I have done it correctly. I have. Without fail.

Berlin Wall

Dad has informed me that some sun is very important while too much is highly dangerous. Despite just graduating from whole year of winter, getting slightly pink after a lovely afternoon in the sunshine warrants a “you’re sunburnt” comment. And we all know the implications of a “you’re sunburnt” comment.

A church

It’s also amusing to me (upon reflection of course) that with my friends, when we are all being indecisive, indecisiveness is fine with me. I have no problem with its presence. With Dad, it drives me up the wall.

An ECU of Schloss Charlottenburg

But let’s not misinterpret what I’m trying to say here. But just to be clear, I'll spell it out for you:

I couldn’t be happier to be here with Dad.

Berlin Bear

I am unbelievably stoked that he has come all this way to see me.

I love my dad to the moon and back.

Frankfurt by cloud

I am amused at just how quickly those same things irk you about each other.

I guess that’s what parents are for, no?

Frankfurt by sunshine

Memory Lane

This week has been a walk down memory lane. I spent virtually my whole last three of years at high school at the pool, playing water polo. This weekend bought back to life many of the experiences I had, with, of course, a few key differences.

Firstly, they replaced all the girls on my girls’ team with men. Not boys, but men. Big, hairy, strong, men.

The only photo I took at the pool

English became Icelandic and Spanish fluently. Or English with an Icelandic or Spanish accent, which in the heat of a game can be equally difficult to understand.

Where I spent the rest of the week...

Trainings of sprints, legs and weights became sitting in the hot pot, waiting for the rest of the team to arrive and getting the lane ropes out of the pool. We are all on Ísland time (pun intended).

Playing in the sunshine with cats

The women’s ball that I used to play with was upgraded to a man-sized ball. Because I was playing Man-Sized Water Polo.

But sometimes it rained... (was raining at the time of capture)

The ten team strong tournament became a two team fight. It was best of three. That’s because there are only two teams in Iceland…

The joys of dumpstered food

Olympic rules water polo were being kept to, here. That meant 8 minute quarters stop clock. I have never thought that dying by drowning would be a particularly pleasant way to go, but when I discovered the length of the quarters, I considered this possibility.

And what would a blog be without unrelated photos?

Presentations before games would only happen for finals games, when a big crowd had turned out. In these games, we were presented to a crowd of nobody. Didn’t quite have the same effect.

Westman Islands 

Finally, I used to get wet playing water polo. I stayed pretty dry this weekend. Except for when I handed people their drink bottles. But, I was, nonetheless, an important member of the team! All drink bottle carriers are!

Westman Islands

So anyway, despite all the changes that had been made to my version of water polo, my team mates won the championship and we were all presented with our gold medals. Much to my great amusement.

Westman Islands

And yes, I realize that’s not very politically correct.

The Process of Leaving

So, everything is drawing to a close here in Iceland.

 Different people leave every day of the week.

Don’t worry - I am not going to get nostalgic on you.

Beautifully unrelated photo #1

Heck no.

Beautifully unrelated photo #2

Some friends and I went to a cabin over the weekend.

It was one of those weekends where dialogue was minimal.

We had nothing to say to one another.

Beautifully unrelated photo #3

So we did everything else possible to avoid communication.

We played Pictionary.

We played cards.

Beautifully unrelated photo #4

We played catch with an orange.

We went dumpster diving.

We ate the garbage that we found.

Beautifully unrelated photo #5

We sat in the hot tub.

We went for a walk.

We watched Game of Thrones.

Beautifully unrelated photo #6

We watched other movies.

We played that game with the names and acting and other antics.

We played 20 questions about a million times.

Beautifully unrelated #7

Then we ate some more.

Slept a little.

And we went home.

Beautifully unrelated photo #8

I am happy knowing that it was about time we parted.

We are no longer able to hold a conversation.

 We aren't?

Road trippin'

Finding your way around another country’s car and traffic procedures is never quite as idiot proof as one might think. A sure and fast way of discovering this for yourself is to go on a road trip. At any rate, this has been my go to approach and let’s just say that I have been learning by making mistakes.

Some Icelandic horses.

General Road Rules

1.     The right side of the road and the correct side are not the same thing. Every now and then I tend toward the correct side, and then get gently reminded by oncoming traffic that that is not the right side.

A village jetty.

2.     You must look both ways before crossing but in the opposite manner to at home. Left, right and left again has become right, left and right again. Usually I simply assume Superman’s invincible status before accelerating giving little regard for others. I’m on a mission, you see.

A blue sky.

Car Usage

3.     The windscreen wipers and the indicators are in illogical and unintuitive locations. I have had to come to grips with the fact that unfortunately, despite this, the two are not the same thing, are not interchangeable and do not do the same effect.

Asbergyi

4.     The headlights are automatic, except when they aren’t. Sometimes they actually need to be turned on. I’m still in the dark on this one. Pun intended.

A nice view.

Car Etiquette

5.     I have taken to hitting my head rather hard on the sun visor when entering and exiting the vehicle, much to my dismay. I really don’t need to be losing more brain cells. They are few and far between as it is!

A cave called something that starts with G.

6.     My biggest issue with road tripping so far is this one:I have, for the past 2 out of 4 mornings woken my dear French companion up with the car alarm. I was only trying to quietly escape. Turns out I am not as stealthy as I once hoped. The stats read like this:

*      When choosing Miss Lambie as a road tripping companion bear in mind that there is a 50% chance that you will be awoken by car alarm at some ungodly hour, depending solely on whether or not she is with it enough to remember to unlock the car before trying to make her escape.

Reindeer (Raindeer?!?)

I promise it was an accident…