Sunday, June 15, 2014 (Fathers Day)
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| black sand beaches from volcanic remains |
In honor of Fathers Day I have an incident hidden in the chronicles of today that I really believe my dad would never let me live down but you will have to endure the context before we get to the good stuff.
Today we left our cozy cabin with colorful horses to trek up to our next stop where we will be camping for two nights. Though before this we had quite a full day set out so that we were able to witness the most that Iceland has to offer. This meant only spending a (very) set amount of time at each of our seven stops.
The first of these stops included a tucked away waterfall in between mossy boulders for only fifteen minutes. However, this proved to be plenty of time given that we had to head out fairly early in the morning and most of us were still waking up and not so ready to go into full on photographer mode. Here we got a taste of the infamous Icelandic rain just before we took shelter back on the bus to the next stop. After this we visited the first big waterfall of the day and worked on long exposure. I didn’t really have much to say about this except that since there was so much light out it was impossible for me to create a long exposure picture that I liked without a polarizing lens. Mom, this is an investment for my future.. just something to think about. The next waterfall on our agenda was much more interesting to me in that there was a Frenchman standing IN the river fed by the waterfall which averaged about 40 degrees. That’s not all. This man, Max who now lives in Brussels, was shooting images inside of one of those old old old old timey film cameras that you see in 1920’s movies or old westerns. This thing was ancient.
Now comes the fun part.. As it came time for lunch, we had an assembly line of sorts set up so that everyone could make their own sandwich. Being that it was Father’s Day, I started getting all nostalgic and sentimental therefore prompting me to make a peanut butter/banana slices/chips sandwich like how my daddy taught me. Great idea right? ha. ha. no. So as I already have the peanut butter set on the bread, I go to cut the bananas into medium to thin slices. As I am going to cut the banana I notice that the knife must be incredibly dull or something because it’s not making one dent in this banana skin. There I am going for a second try at this delicious looking banana with such a defective knife when I realize that instead of slicing the banana, the knife that I am holding is turned to face my unsuspecting thumb where I proceed to press, with a good amount of force, the blade into my poor little thumb. Of course I respond in my usual response to pain which is nervously trying to make jokes about how much blood must be in my one finger while at the same time proving to be completely useless and spaced out.
My thumb is still attached and fully equipped with a Dora bandaid (compliments of Paige). There you go Daddy. If it wasn’t Father’s Day I probably would have saved myself the embarrassment. I would have kept this little tale to myself but I knew you would get a real kick out of the fact that I not only cut myself once but twice all the while thinking to myself, “What the heck is wrong with this stupid knife?!”
The rest of the day was a little less eventful other than spotting puffins, who I would like to believe I could somehow hold in my hands one day. Other than a pit stop at a gas station with hot dogs and wool sweaters, we arrived at our campsite safe and sound. Once at the campsite though, we were really put to the test by setting up our own tents. I must say that I proved to be quite a cavewoman by putting the stakes into the ground with a rock (once the hammers ran out) Dora bandaid and all.
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