Today I slept in gloriously and awoke to blue skies and only occasional drizzle (and laughed in the face of a forecast of four days of downpours. Hahahaha.) Unfortunately however, the first half an hour of my afternoon was spent frantically googling and then locating a hardware store in the opposite direction of anything interesting, in search of a European adaptor and some new camera batteries. The omnipresent geometric spire of the Hallgrímskirkja is how one usually orients oneself around Reykjavik, but in this direction a new double-pronged church became the compass. I can't resist a good church (and this city seems full of them), and the inside was a pleasingly modern and practical affair not unlike the ecclesiastical equivalent of Ikea interior design. #scandinavia. I have certainly not been here long enough to make bold claims about what a "typical Icelander" entails, but I would hazard a guess that it's personified by the owner of the hardware store I eventually found - teasing manner, round glasses, excellent English and all.
This tedious mission accomplished, I set off back West and towards the Saga Museum. Icelanders seem adept at dressing their windows very beautifully, be it with vases of roses, a snoozing dog, figurines of Wallace and Gromit, or shelves of plants and coloured glass bottles. Or an angry cat. People smoke pipes and read quietly in the parks, and little planes roar overhead towards the internal airport. (And it didn't rain too much.)