My last day in Iceland was blessed with absolutely glorious weather. Barely a wisp of cloud in the sky and the gentlest of breezes as I enjoyed Kex's sun-drenched comforts for the very last time and chugged towards Keflavik and the Blue Lagoon. Someone last night described the Icelandic landscape as otherworldly, and the scenery floating by the window during the drive would certainly attest to that. Someone told me that Neil Armstrong and co spent a whole lot of time in the Icelandic planes before shooting into space - it's the closest you can get to walking on a real-life lunar landscape, and the rocky lava fields stretching on towards bare and barren mountains do bring the moon to mind. Everything was simultaneously glaring and hazy under the cloudless sky, with one side of the road harsh and bare as a desert with the other dropping straight off into ocean. Occasionally we rounded bends in the road and green sloping hills burst into view along the coastline, almost reminiscent of Cornwall, and it wasn't long before the steam clouds of the lagoon came into view, blaringly white against all that black rock, and its neon blue itself crept into our sights.