After visiting the National Forest,
we returned to Egilsstadir. At the Shell station we had a traditional Icelandic hotdog, which we shared between us, along with some French fries and a side of pizza. We ordered the ham, shrimp, and banana pizza.
Hey, it was on the menu.
It wasn't bad.
But I doubt that I'll need another one before our next trip to Iceland.
You've got to experience these things once, at least.
The traditional hotdog is of lamb; it comes with ketchup, mustard, and crunchy deep-fried pieces of breaded onion on the bun. I liked the hotdog too much, and the crunchy onion bits. It tasted pretty much like a hotdog. The difference that stood out the most: how long it was; in this country we'd try to call it "a foot-long hotdog." In Iceland it's just the hotdog.
We sat at our table eating hotdog and fries, pizza, drinking our soda. At a table near us four Icelandic Twenty-somethings were sharing a couple of pizzas. Other tables were filling up with workmen, or with couples, people having pizza or "the fisherman's burger," which is a hamburger in a bun with an over-easy fried egg on top of the meat. This burger-with-egg was a common menu item across the island, though it wasn't always called the fisherman's burger. The Twenty-somethings at the near table were chattering away; it was obvious they were good friends. The interesting thing about their conversation was that some of it was in Icelandic, some of it in English. And I don't think they were putting on a show for us; they didn't seem to notice us at all.
After we finished eating, we stopped at the Esso station towards the other corner of town, inspecting it to see what was the same as what we have in America, and what was different; and, of course, we had to get an ice cream bar, strictly for the purpose of research, mind you.
We returned to our room and I crashed, tired from the day's drive. M. read and watched TV and eventually turned out the lights a little later than I turned out mine, as is her custom.
***
April 20, 2005
Mary and I walked early, for half an hour. Went to breakfast at the hotel at 8:00 a.m. It was another lovely un-American breakfast. Today I knew not to put the sour milk on my muesli when what I wanted was skim milk to go with the brown sugar.
During breakfast I saw an older man and a younger man, a professor and his student I presume, introduce themselves in English to an older man at another table, who apparently was "the famous professor from Switzerland." The three men took their breakfast together. I think they were talking about agriculture or forestry in Iceland.
To be continued....
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