![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9EshICSj8jaTh7hZCiLmkFuccJQSpnIzjWZ1wBi5OpXJXr4wwSDXxxdV1EOS52ExcWG9xFO1NW9coa1soQDL9s1MPjFQ0wpS5d3rfqW8JLEwr6W4PAa-gbsfgU1utlTLJU_-OxG0QyaQ/s400/trip_29.gif)
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Tourist time in Reykjavík. Limited options in winter, further hampered by the snow squalls moving trhough every 20 minutes. But I enjoyed walking around the city, ducking into cafes often. I met up with Hrafnkell, and had a full day admiring the graffiti of the city (it was very good, and very colorful). In France I had noticed all the "Barbapapa" parfanalia (to my delight—I had not seen or thought of the cartoon since I was a kid; I delighted Xavier by singing the theme song in English); and Iceland too prevelantly featured the blobular characters wherever I turned! Who knew? The next day, I went to a geo thermal hotspring and tore off a layer of skin. On the shuttle bus to the airport, I left behind my camera, and felt like an idiot. Fortunately, the shuttle service found it, and will mail it to me.