By the time Leah and I were flying over Iceland, we were zombies.

Leah was outraged by the airline’s no-frills service. “Not even a tiny bag of pretzels,” she lamented, “Maybe I closed my eyes for one or two minutes.”

I was mostly pissed that my gummies were duds, but I thought the Icelandair pilot and jet did a commendable job of getting us to Iceland–crossing 4 time zones in 5 hours.

We arrived at Keflavik International Airport at 5:30am, found our bags, cleared customs, bought some duty free tequila, and got our bearings…

We have embarked on a 2-week road trip around Iceland, hopping from one hotel or guesthouse to another until we complete the circle, and we’re not too sure what to expect.

By the time we reached the reception atrium, half-a-dozen drivers were gathered by the airport entrance looking for a match. But none of the clients’ names on their iPads and iPhones matched with mine.

I approached one of the drivers and handed him my voucher. His English was perfect.

“I know this driver,” he said. “He’s the best! I think he’s running late on another trip, but I’ll call him for you.”

The phone call was brief. “He says he’s on his way.”

By 6:30am we were riding in an electric Audi SUV to Grandi by Center Hotel, discussing with our driver how Iceland’s road system is still too immature to support a fleet of EVs–plagued by insufficient charging stations and improper maintenance. The ride took 40 minutes.

“The hotel is full,” we learned from the on-duty desk clerk. “The earliest we may make a room ready for you is 2pm, and I will make it my first priority.”

Disappointed, we power-walked through a chilly spray under overcast skies from Grandi to Sandholt, a nearby bakery highly recommended by the desk clerk.

“What are we gonna do for 7 hours? I need sleep!” Leah groaned.

The streets were stone quiet this Sunday at 7am, except for a street cleaner and vacuum buggy attacking the trash along the alleys of a popular square filled with eateries.

However, one road along the way caught our attention…

We discovered that Iceland is regarded as one of the most LGBTQ-friendly countries in the world, having elected, Jóhanna Sigurðardóttir, an openly gay head of state in 2009, and Althing (Iceland’s Parliament–founded in 930 and one of the oldest surviving parliaments in the world) unanimously voting for same-sex marriages in 2010. Unsurprisingly, one-third of Iceland’s population turns out for the Reykjavik’s Gay Pride parade in August.

Leah was thrilled with her breakfast. She had an omelet and I had a waffle with fruit. It gave us the boost that we needed to explore the rainbow road to Hallgrímskirkja, Iceland’s National Church.

and Reykjavik’s iconic Lutheran landmark.

I would have liked to climb the tower for what is reputed to be the best lookout of the city, but we were too early.

And that’s true for most of the city, which doesn’t wake until 11am on Sunday, so shopping was also out of the question.

Begrudgingly, we returned to the hotel, admiring some of the charming homes,

and graffiti along the way…

and took possession of our room by 1pm.

After a 5-hour nap and an early dinner, we were ready for bed and ready for whatever new adventure awaits us in the coming days.