It’s just after midnight on June 21st, and I’m standing on the street outside the Reykjavik pub from which I have just emerged. The sky above is clear and bright. Perhaps not as bright as when I went into the pub three hours ago but, then again, neither am I.
In the last 24 hours, I rafted (and swam) a glacial river, photographed a massive waterfall from dozens of angles, explored a terrain pitted with …