yes I said it...sorry mom...but that has been the theme of Jamie and I´s past 24 hours. We drove from Skagastrond -the country music capital of Iceland (where we ate at the country bar...the only country bar in Iceland with its own radio station) to Holmavik yesterday. Getting there early in the afternoon, we decided to go a bit futher and camp at Dragnes, but first to stop and check out the museum of Icelandic sorcery and witchcraft which is Holmavik´s claim to fame. It was creepy. And strange. We got headsets and wandered around the warehouse looking at books and objects and fish heads. Some of it was interesting, some of it was boring, all of it was bizzare. The final room was the 'stone bowl' where they had one glowing red light on this stone with a hollow spot in it with all the creepy halloween music glory you could imagine. We decided that was enough and went back to reception where we found the kind middle age man who let us in (wearing a cute wool sweater at the time) now dressed up in full Icelandic socerer´s garb. It was creepy. After making casual small talk about the town and the tourist season with this bizzarely clothed man, we headed to Dragnes, only to find the road closed for construction. Neither of us wanted to stay in Holmavik to begin with, and definitely not after the museum, so we decided to try and make another hour or two of drivnig to reykjanes...4km out of Reykjanes, the road was closed for construction. We had the choice of driving another 200km to Isafjordur or turning back 80km to Holmavik. Our gas tank decided for us. We couldn´t make 200km. So back we went down the road a second time, deciding to fuel up in Holmavik and turn around and drive until we were tired and then set up the tent in a field somewhere when we wanted to stop for the night. We cruised into the Holmavik gas station...the only thing left open in town at 8pm, where the girl told us the pumps weren´t working. We were invited to stay and wait to see if they would be fixed in the next few minutes. Having literally NO other options, we settled down at a table in the gas station. I saw a phone and thought it might be a good time to call home as it would be the early afternoon and hearing a familiar voice from across the sea might make the day a bit better. I dug through my change to find the proper amounts and picked up the reciever......no dial tone. When I walked back to the table, a storm had blown in, screaming wind and black black rain. I felt like we were in the first scenes of every horror movie I refuse to watch. After waiting for an hour, the gas station closed and we were told it would hopefully be working in the morning.
We slept in the car with the doors locked and were waiting at the pump when the station opened this morning to get the hell out of Holmavik.
In Isafjordur tonight. Much nicer town.