Did you guess it? Yeah, you're right. This is Leif Ericksson, who, for Icelanders, is like Elvis, the wheel, Zeus, and sliced bread all in one. He had to have been regarded as the best thing that ever happened to this country. Ever. 

That is until Bjork came on the scene.  

A part of downtown

On the bus ride to our hotel, I tried in vain to sleep as Wynene snapped away out of the large window to our right. The landscape was flat and barren the entire way and the sky was overcast. 

Once we arrived and dropped our bags in our room at Hotel Loftleider, we wandered downstairs to sample the breakfast buffet despite our pure exhaustion. I looked forward to some foreign fare and was not disappointed. Along with the some of the staple buffet foods we would expect at home (toast, rolls, wedges of fruit, and containers dispensing a variety of cereals) we also came across little dishes of pickled herring, dips and sauces of questionable origin, and our personal fave: cottage cheese from a tube. Why Wynene and I didn't ever take a camera downstairs for the first four breakfasts we experienced there to get a photo of one of the most amusing things we saw in Iceland, I cannot explain. 

A large tube sat on a small plate, its cap removed and some chunky white cottage cheese just stealing its way out of the opening from the last person who squeezed it. I never ever thought presentation would affect my appetite. But the fact that this huge tube resembled a foot cream to me yet dispensed something edible was more than I could stomach. It was comical of course, especially since everyone was appearing to abide by the rules of conduct that insist you squeeze from the bottom.  And I sort of pride myself about not being particularly squeamish, especially concerning food, but there was no way I could eat that. And I really like cottage cheese. I just wasn't feeling adventurous or interested in experiencing it for its novelty. I was simply repulsed. I have to say though that it was very amusing to come down to breakfast a couple days later to find that someone had squeezed the tube from the middle. Just ain't right.

After breakfast we rode the elevator back up to the fourth floor and crashed, the two of us probably snoozing for about three hours. We awoke, far more refreshed than previously, and decided that we would walk to downtown Reykjavik. Now, it was bitterly cold the entire time we spent in Iceland (yes, Wy, bitterly) and the walk was about a half hour, but when we finally reached it, one of the first things we did was step into a quaint little cafe with an American barista who, about two years ago, moved to Iceland from California! 

But I liked the packaging. It reminded me of the boxes for Brillo Pads. It was supposed to be black licorice but tasted like pure sin. They had huge, economy boxes, too. I was horrified.

Wynene, you're not fooling anyone--those were absolutely disgusting

Day 1: Cottage Cheese from a Tube and I Get Mistaken for Wynene's Boyfriend

We'd arrived around 7:30 am Icelandic time, tired, hungry, a little disoriented. The airport was almost entirely deserted. One of the first things we did was hit up the Duty Free to check out weird Icelandic treats and alcohol.

Of the Conchords

I've told this story a couple of times but I'm gonna do it again for those of you who didn't hear it. 

Picture it: I'm bustling around work as usual, the cafe/restaurant packed with hungry patrons eager for their bottomless mimosas and spinach and three cheese omelettes. Expertly weaving among the tables on my way to print a check for one of my tables, I look up at the growing number of people waiting at the door to be seated, and he catches my eye immediately. Undoubtedly, it was him. My heart begins thudding instantly. I have to talk to him, I say to myself. I just have to. It was strange because I waited on a pretty famous person once and looked at her with wonder a couple of times but didn't get all giddy about it. But I was so excited to see this guy that I knew without a doubt that I would talk to him. 

So I worked in my head what I would say to him and then approached.

"Excuse me," I said. "May I ask you a question?"

He turned to me. "Sure."

"Are you an actor?"

"Yes."

HUGE grin on my face. I could feel it. "Were you on Flight of the Conchords?" I beamed.

"Yes, I was. I'm in the season finale. I play the concierge in the hotel at the end of the second season," he replied.

"Weren't you also in the first season? You played Quincy Jones's brother?"

"Yeah," he smiled. I think he was a little surprised.

Then of course I did what I thought I'd never do. I gushed. "I watch Flight of the Conchords all the time! I totally recognized you! I don't have a TV but I have the first season on my computer that a coworker put on my desktop right before I left California and I've watched the season countless times and I sent my friends at home a couple of videos from youtube last summer and now they're fans and it was the only thing I watched for the first two months when I moved here and I just think it's a fabulous show the other day I was googling Flight of the Conchords Merchandise and was led to an HBO website and I was able to watch the premier episode of the second season but I'll have to wait til it comes out on dvd," I breathed.

"Yeah, it's a great show," he answered, smiling. "I won't tell you how this season ends, but I think season 2 is even better than the first. They're really coming into their own now."

"Well, my name's D______ and it was great to meet you," I smiled, shaking his hand with supreme pleasure. 

"Yeah, nice to meet you too," he said.

I was hoping he would be seated in my section but wasn't. I was a little disappointed, but I ran his food to him and his family while my coworker took care of them. Now, he appeared in just one episode in the first season for a total of probably five minutes. But like I told him, I've watched the whole season over and over and over again. That's why I instantly recognized him. He scams the band's manager when he sells him "stereo equipment," which turns out to be just boxes of sawdust. He claims to be the brother of famed record producer Quincy Jones and offers to sell Murray hot pants as well.

So after our exchange I'm positively floating through the restaurant, renewed by the chance encounter. I'm giving exceptional service at this point, smiling genuinely at my tables and being really patient and forgiving when they're acting like idiots. 

Towards the middle of their meal, I get it in my head that I would like to have a picture with this man before he and his family leaves, but decide that I will approach him discreetly and request a picture outside so as not to draw attention to him and possibly embarrass him.  I grab my camera from my bag, stuff it in my apron and watch for my opportunity. Once they've paid, his wife takes their two daughters to the bathroom and he's standing in front of the coffee bar waiting for them, his arms loaded with kids' stuff like small jackets and coloring books. Maybe this is a good time to ask, since he's alone and can talk a bit. 

"I just wanted to say again it was so nice to meet you." I grinned widely at him. 

"Are you an actress?" he asked me.

"Oh, I came out here to try everything," I said quickly, trying to change the subject. "I moved out her nine months ago."

"From where?"

"California."

"How do you like it here?" he asked.

"Oh I love it," I said and he smiled. 

"Yeah, it's great up here," he agreed. "Have you been to the Cloisters?"

"Yeah, a couple of times. I live very close to Fort Tryon Park."

So we chatted for a couple of minutes. He told me he was from New York, born and raised, and we talked about how cool Inwood and Washington Heights was. I asked him if the show was filmed throughout Manhattan. The outside of the guys' apartment is filmed in Greenpoint, Brooklyn, but that everything else is taped throughout the city.  

"I was wondering if I could get a picture with you?" I asked shyly. "We could take it outside so we don't attract so much attention?"

"Oh... sure," he responded, surprised. "I'm flattered."

By this time his family returned. "She's a Conchords fan," he told his wife. "We're going outside to take a picture."

And that's just what we did. We both stopped the first person walking by, the guy snapped our picture, and he shook my hand once more and asked me my name again, which I gave eagerly. 

He was so nice!

This experience is on the list of the top 5 coolest things that have happened to me in NYC. Ever.