My apartment, Dad's last few days in Iceland, and language classes

Dad and I woke up bright and early on Monday with the goal of climbing to the top of a fjord. Although it was cold and raining that day, we set out and drove to the start of the hiking trail. By "trail" I mean a sign with an arrow that points in an arbitrary direction with no further indication of where you are supposed to go. Because there are no trees here, hiking trails are not defined and worn in paths. So, we set out with the wind and rain in our faces and made it about 100 meters before heading back to the car. HAHAHA. The conditions were miserable and the fog was so thick that we decided it would have been both dangerous and miserable. Being the crafty fisherman that we are, we returned to Isafjordur and caught dinner out of the harbour. On the way back to Isafjordur we found a very old but handily crafted hut. The pictures show how run-down it was but as you can see, someone obviously put a lot of work into it. It was difficult to tell how old the hut was or what its purpose had been but was definately a neat find. Our last night together was tough knowing that Dad was leaving early the next morning. I just tried to keep in mind that we'd just had a once in a lifetime experience together and that made parting much easier for me.