At this late hour, we've just returned from Grettir's Pool, a natural hotsprings right on the seacoast a few miles to the north. It's one beautiful spot, let me tell you. Some of the crazier people soak in it for a while then plunge themselves into the Arctic Ocean. Not me, though, no way.

Panorama (the actual swimming hole is behind the breakwater - not the pond shown here)

About eight miles out in the fjord is the island of Drangsay, which is where Grettir the Strong lived for many of his 19 years of outlawry. One night when his slave let their fire die, Grettir swam to the mainland and used the very pool we enjoyed, according to the ancient sagas, to warm himself after the long swim.

Late last night it was decided that I would be in charge of mapping the stone features of the newly opened trench so we spent the morning troweling and brushing dirt off the stones to see them better, and setting and surveying lines and stakes from which to measure and thus draw accurate plans.

However, about lunchtime the airline called and said they had my bag. It was arranged that they would fly it up to the closest airport, which is about an hour away, but where also a new person would be arriving on the same plane. I was designated to drive over and pick her up and be sure that my bag did arrive and claim it. Thus driving there and back took up the whole afternoon.

Another terrific day today, with warm sun and little wind. Many people are starting to develop nice tans from the outdoor work. Whouda thunk it?




Is it... could it be... Iceland?!
(Yes, Krissy and John at 10:30 pm in the Arctic Ocean)




They consider white sand beaches exotic here.




Many wildflowers show off this time of year.




A midnight shot shows the pastel lighting we have that time of day.