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Spirits of the Land (ICE)

Endless sunlit days and an average 10 °C with icy cold winds to spare every other day. We made ourselves home.

Walking around the city for hours, bumping into underground punk galleries, vintage vinyl record shops with a peculiar curated selection, and your well known Bæjarins Beztu Pylsur hot dog stand. Made a couple of friends on the sunnier days. 12-hour roadtrip days, quite a few stops on the map. Just us and the road ahead with the radio playing the same song on repeat until we hit the midnight sun. Chasing fascinating tales of elves, trolls and fairies.

A whole new level of breathtaking views keeps me sitting at the edge of my seat with my head out of the window, taking it all in till my face goes numb and I can feel it all. Bright mossy green mountains, mesmerizing glacial lagoons and your occasional waterfall peeking through yet another out of the ordinary rock formation– a troll of day and night. On our own for hours, empty roads to ourselves, compulsively getting in and out of the car anywhere we could to get our feet on the ground.

A whole new level of breathtaking views keeps me sitting at the edge of my seat with my head out of the window, taking it all in till my face goes numb and I can feel it all.

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