Don't speak

Our arrival in Keflavík was a very excited one.

We had been flying in from Copenhagen, and our flight was full of drunk Danes. This didn't stop us from being in complete awe when we first glimpsed the midnight sun over Norway.

Landing, 4am

After a 4 hours flight spent in awe and happiness (and craziness), we entered the tiny international airport in high spirits. And spirits, of a different kind, were what all our fellow passengers were after: every one bought a lot of brennivín at the duty free shop.

We decided to follow the tradition and entered the cool night with a bottle of brennivín, too, and looked for our taxi.

A stout man with a sign was waiting for us. It was 4am, yet he seemed incredibly pleased to welcome 3 foreigners on his taxi and move our luggage, telling us we must be tired from the flight and shouldn't be pulling luggage.

As soon as he started driving towards Reykjavík, he began to tell us about a lot of things. The radio was playing Don't Speak by No doubt.

We were in a strange land, almost alien, with huge lava fields in every direction and the dark sea roaring on our left side. We could see smoke rising from the mountains and some lights coming from the villages we passed, even though the midnight sun made the night light and clear.

While we were astonished by the sight, our driver was speaking. I suddenly started to pay attention to what he was saying in his adorable and sweet accent.

"Out there is the blue lagoon. You must go. But if you don't want to pay, there are many hot pools around the country. I can make you a list!"

This is the Icelandic spirit. It's 4am, and the cab driver offers to give you a list of free hot pools in the country. This is what I call welcoming people.

He then started telling us the history of the first settlements in the area, and of the volcanic eruptions he remembered from when he was a kid. As we entered the Reykjavík urban area, he told us about the Perlan and that if we didn't want to spend all our money in food we'd better shop at Bónus.

We arrived to downtown Reykjavík (the famous 101 area) with our driver biding us welcome to his city.

We met our flat contact person in Laugavegur, and the cab driver offered to drive us further for the 500 meters that separated us from our flat. Because, you know, we shouldn't pull our luggage.

And suddenly I realized why there's a sign that says "Welcome home" at the airport.