Wednesday 7th February 2024

And so the time came to go home.

We rose at half six, went down for breakfast, then set about packing the last of our stuff before walking down to the parking garage, loading the car setting the sat nav.

Turns out Reykjavík wasn't an easy city to get out of, after negotiating a maze of back streets, we get onto the main road, then found our turning wasn't signposted, which meant driving for 20 minutes to find a place to turn round.

Back onto the main road, then turning off to the main road to the airport, with the sky already light, but being over two hours before sunrise.

Back through the suburbs, a bay with black sand, then over yet another lava field, with the cones of slumbering volcanoes as a backdrop.

We found the drop off point, and Avis arranged a mini bus to take us to the terminal. Once inside, a ten minute queue to drop our cases off, up through security to departures, where we found our gate already announced.

So skipping the delights of the duty free shop, through immigration to the gate, and a twenty minute wait before boarding.

I had chosen seats near the back of the plane, correctly assuming that these would be most likely to have a free set in a row, so Jools and I might have three seats to ourselves.

This was the case, so with an empty seat between us, we made ready for take off, twenty minutes early, and the long taxi to the piano keys.

Up into the blue sky we went, turning east to cross the whole island, all volcanic cones, glaciers and small towns, before the land gave way to a frozen bay, and the open sea beyond.

I started to read Frankenstein, but my eyes got heavy and I slept for at least an hour, waking up with us somewhere over northern Scotland.

It too was covered in now, though not deep, so the green of the vegetation showed through.

I recognised the Firth of Forth and the trio of bridges now crossing it, before land was lost by a layer of low cloud.

We came to land, the suburbs only becoming visible with the plane about 100m above the ground, down we bounced.

A short taxi to the terminal, and we got off the plane opposite the immigration desks, so through there in no time and then the long wait for baggage.

Jools called the car park people, so that our car would be waiting once we got our bags, which was the case, and after signing a piece of paper, we were free to go. Once we had loaded the car, of course.

Terminal 5 is near the junction onto the M25, so straight on, and with some slow traffic as the time neared half three, we fought our way round southern London and finally into Kent.

Easy from there, so at just gone half four we were back in Dover. We called into M&S for supplies and something for dinner, then one last leg up Jubilee Way to home.

Jools unpacked, then fed the washing machine. I made brews and then dinner, so that at ten to seven we sat down with a lukewarm bottle of fizz to go with steak and ale pie, roast potatoes and fresh peas.

Most stuff through the evening, but we were pooped, and amazed how at 6 degrees, how warm it felt.