Forty hours went by, we all rushed for a space on the bus to ensure our route to the north of Iceland. Many didn’t get a seat and were forced to be further delayed. We had already spent 8 hours in the bus station so Terry and I were at the front of the queue braving the cold weather to ensure we got a seat. The bus left Rekyavik at 12 midnight, the sun was still bright in the sky and didn’t decide to sleep that night, staying out to play until we reached London. It's a strange concept to have 48 hours worth of sunlight. The mountain views were incredible at 3 in the morning, snow sparkling and the mountains creating gigantic sized shadows over our ant sized bus. We touched down, after even more delays in the airport and a few games of Yahtzee, in Glasgow. With of 5 pound food vouchers in hand, we found some food and relaxed, anticipating even more delays. Nine hours later, after filling up on chocolate, jacket potatoes, cold and flu pills and some internet time, we were on the plane ready to leave Glasgow and head to London. Mum and Kirk came to collect us, exhausted yet high on adrenaline we drove in the dark to mum’s house. Iceland was a fantastic travel experience and one to definitely re-visit.
And so England begins, life back where we started. I am writing this blog at my mums house, watching crap TV and applying for around 5000 jobs. England doesn’t change, there isn’t much excitement here, no spontaneous weekends to the beach or climbing a few mountains, no backpack to pack each morning or floors to sleep on, no searching for foreign food or orientating around strange cities, just a new fresh start where we began.
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