It’s Time For Whimsy On A Wednesday!

I was looking for a unique and unforgettable travel experience. After writing Red Mist with co-author Larry B Lambert, I decided to look no further than Iceland! With its stunning landscapes, the land of fire and ice has a  fascinating culture and incredible natural wonders. Iceland is the perfect destination for a once-in-a-lifetime adventure. From the majestic northern lights to the breathtaking ice caves and the famous Blue Lagoon, what’s not to enjoy in this beautiful country?

And what better person to travel with than my mother? I mean, what could possibly go wrong? We all know that mums go to Iceland. I let her find the best trip that included all the fun experiences and then all that was left to do was to find out how cold it would be, what clothes to pack and all be as-sound-as-a-pound, right?  

And Then The Other Night…

My mother turned up out of the blue as I sat on the sofa with a nice cup of tea watching the evening news. 

“I need to talk to you,” she said. “I’ve just been speaking to my friend who went to Iceland and her eyebrows fell off.”

“What the actual f….”

“Yes. Apparently, the mixture of cold and also the glare of the sun reflecting off her sunglasses, made her eyebrows fall off.”

“R-i-i-i-i-g-h-t…”

“So we’re going to have to cake them in vaseline. Have you got a balaclava?”

“No. I left it at my last bank robbery.”

“I think it might be prudent to get one.”

“No. I don’t want to feel trapped in my own face. I’ll risk the eyebrows.” 

The buyer’s remorse had begun and I wondered if Covid laws were still in place. Perhaps if I spent the next few days in a dodgy Wetherspoons I might be able to contract some flight-risk disease. 

“It’s going to be very cold when we stay in the second hotel. The one in the middle of nowhere.”

“What do you mean, the middle of nowhere?”

I can’t possibly convey how much I was sighing at this point but trust me, it was a lot. 

“There’s no town or anything. It’s right out in no-mans land?”

“Why? Why are we staying there?”

“Because that’s where you have to go to see lava fields and ice caves and things.”

Having holidayed with my mother many times and seen first-hand how horribly wrong things can go I have developed a violent mistrust of anything she says. Still, I could only blame myself as I’d willingly left her in control. I decided to get on the internet and check it all out. 

Firstly I have found that there is no morning. Darkness prevails and the sun doesn’t come up until half past ten. Breakfast is gruel. I’m already depressed. The sun then goes back to sleep at about half past four. 

Iceland is not known for its food. In fact, it states several times that if you’re looking for a foodie place then don’t go to Iceland. Not even the one down the road.

I have made it quite clear to my mother that I will not eat a Puffin. Particularly after reading this:

What Does Puffin Bird Taste Like?

Soaked in salt water, smoked with wood chips and dried sheep dung, then boiled for two hours in a sweet malt beverage before being refrigerated and finally served, bone-in and cold, alongside a packet of butter, smoked puffin tastes briny and a bit fishy and musky-sweet.

But not to worry because there’s always bread and butter dipped in cod liver oil. Nice. 

“There’s always the penis museum,” she said. 

“Right, and that’s why mums go to Iceland.” 

Since this discovery, the packing has been changed to accommodate any misery. I’ll let you know what happens if I don’t see the Red Mist and jump into a volcano. 

*For further reasons why I am worried about going to Iceland, please read this best-selling sci-fi book by Larry B Lambert and Jules Smith*