The Kindness of Vikings

So far, Rose's and my interactions with native Icelanders have been exceedingly pleasant (save for the shuttle plane operator who pushed me off the stairs rather than verbally inform me that it wasn't time to board). Every time we've approached someone for travel tips, the stranger's response has been to not only answer the question at hand, but to take us under his woolen sweater-clad wing and nurture our struggling itinerary until it is strong and chock-full of rewarding activities. Truth be told, as a couple of young, female Americans, the men who have assisted us (yes, sadly it's only been men) may be taking interest in our plight for largely biological reasons. Still, these guys conduct themselves in a way that is neither creepy nor overbearing. In our travels thus far, I've not been oggled, whistled at or aggressively approached by one man (except of course for those American sailors). Despite the culture's Viking origins, the country doesn't seem to celebrate machismo like a part of me expected it to. I'm giving the World's Strongest Man competition a free pass here because it was Independence Day, and it was sooo awesome. Let us not forget that women have always played major roles in Icelandic society, even dating back to Viking times. The world's first openly gay female prime minister currently presides over the government. Perhaps more strides towards gender equality have been taken here than any other place I've been.
Back to my initial topic- There was Fridrik, the grandfatherly hotel manager in Skogar who gave us free breakfast, printed us weather forecasts from the Internet, and planned us out a two-day sightseeing excursion in southern Iceland after dismissing our original schedule for being pointless, and even a little dangerous. We ended up doing everything he said, praising his name all the way. Please, if you're ever traveling Iceland, stay at one of Fridrik's All Season luxury hotels, and tell him we say hi. I've also mentioned Svenni before, the convenience store manager who gave us a free tour of the Westman Islands (where we flew to on Fridrik's suggestion). After wolfing yet another delicious gas station sandwich, I asked him if he had any tips on Puffin sighting, to which he replied, " Wait 15 minutes and I'll drive you to the Puffin cliffs." And so began the most exciting adventure I've had in years. Seeing Keiko's old pen was interesting, but nothing compares to seeing Puffins in the wild. Being native to the islands, Svenni is a seasoned Puffin hunter, and knew exactly which cliff to look for them at. More about our amazing Puffin adventure will come soon, but for now, because I told him I'd do my best to throw some business his way, here is a photo of Svenni's shop in Heimay, Westman Islands.