Feb 24th. So I did get out to the Nesgill area, unable to resist the wonderful weather to take a ride. I followed Karl's directions and got there after about 40 minutes. The road was excellent though when it got to a mountain pass, was twisty as spaghetti. At one point some ice on a steep decline caught me by surprise--and this is in the middle of nowhere--yet I managed to keep the car under control. It was much colder barely 40 kilometers in from the ocean but little wind. The landscape is typically dramatic, but what always grabes my attention was that transcendent look and feel: in between some mountains are those long sloping planes, some of which culminate in a glacier and of course, a volcano here and there. These planes somehow have the effect of swooping you off your feet and launching you into a different dimension. At several points I got out and walked around...dead silence, not even a bird. Then I descended towards Þingvellir with the large lake down below partly frozen. Along this western side of the lake are numerous summer houses and that most un-Icelandic phenomenon of them all, trees. Obviously they had been planted, mostly pine, which lent an unexpected green touch to the otherwise lunar landscape. I drove up to the geothermal plant bathed in steam, but it seemed uninviting. By that I mean cars were around, but there was a gate with cameras. Overhead were several jet contrails headed northwest, presumably going from Europe to the Orient over the North Pole. Their end-to-end streaks clearly revealed the earth's curvature, more obvious here due to the wide open spaces. En route home I saw Reykjavik way off in the distance down below; got the distinct impression it was an outpost, sophisticated as it may be, in this incredible landscape. Actually Reykjavik is such. When you think of it, there is no metropolitan area between Montreal and for example, mainland Scandinavia or Great Britain. My little venture took about 3 hours; would have kicked myself if I hadn't done it today!