The next big thing is just in front of us

There’s nothing quite like a big slap in face from the sea and having what feels like a bucket of water thrown in your face a few times, to wake you up in the morning.

There is a subtle pinkyness in the rock where deep wrinkles, creases and folds make it look like the life worn skin of an elderly relative.

The clickerty clack of the needles, the chanting and clapping, the boat heaving, the repetitive sound of the band, chinking of glasses, the heat, the lack of sleep. I break into a sweat and start to drift into a trance

It was always going to be difficult, I knew this before I started…

Maybe I’m emotionally on edge, maybe I haven’t had enough sleep in the land of the midnight sun, maybe it’s because it’s my first leg of this journey but there’s something about this volcanic island in the North Atlantic that makes me smile and cry at the same time

The plane begins it’s descent into Keflavik airport and I start to get a clearer view of the strange landscape below. Volcanic rocks form pointy mounds from the greeny yellow flat lands of the lava field

I’ve often wondered if anywhere else has a weather forecast that people write poetry, stories, comedy and songs about.

It’s a brown brick boxy building with a steady stream of traffic arriving outside. The slogan reads ‘cool choice in logistics’ inside there is an aerial photo of a snow covered volcano.

My heart rate starts to rise and I realise I am replying in short, clipped comments, trying to cut the conversation short as my friend, who I’ve asked for advice on some equipment starts to suggest that I actually need to go into an outdoor shop …