Somehow, home time had finally rolled round. We were so gutted to be leaving Iceland – it was beautiful and scenic and our little cabin in the middle of nowhere, that could miraculously withstand brutal storms was going to be bitterly missed. We’d decided that we couldn’t come to Iceland and not visit the Blue Lagoon, so we booked a tour from the airport, high-tailed our way back, dropping our surprisingly-in-tact rental car off and getting a lift back to the airport. There, we stood waiting for our coach for what seemed like a lifetime, eventually hopping on with two other people… We got to the Blue Lagoon – a modern glass-fronted building greeted us, we got changed, and then showered, locking our goods in the lockers, before climbing down  a flight of stairs to the in-door entrance of the Blue Lagoon… You walk down a slope and open a…

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So, we were pretty excited about snorkelling and hanging out between two tectonic plates… By the time Sunday – our penultimate day in Iceland rolled round – and we’d felt the cold bite of a 70m storm from the moment we wake up, J and I were well and truly ready to jack the snorkelling in. H on the other hand was adamant we should go, so we wrapped up in our thermals, threw on some extra layers for good measure and, on slightly calmer roads, followed the Sat Nav to Penvgillar National Park. We hit the information point where we were supposed to meet the snorkelling guide… only, he was nowhere to be seen, we hurried from one information tho the centre trying to locate what became known as the Bermuda Triangle of meeting points – somewhere in Pvengillar National Park there’s a car park called P5. If you…

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After we arrived under the cover of darkness and hurried into the warmth of our cabin, we finished our proseccos and dutifully passed out – it had been a long day, with our journey taking in total about 15 hours after delays and waiting around. As an early bird, I woke up to hear the storm had eased, and to our utmost surprise, the sun was (albeit weakly) shining. Creeping out of bed, I looked out our front door… Which was nothing compared to when I opened it… We decided to don our thermals, and wonder down to the sea front which was about 600 yards from our cottage… We finally somehow got the hot tub working, cracked open another prosecco – this was of course, J’s big 3-0 and who were we to argue with the birthday girl? After the water cooled, it was time to head in, throw on a…

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I nearly missed the bloody plane. Suffice it to say, doing a wine tasting seven hours before a flight won’t end well. Take it from me, DON’T do it. 😂. After a long, horrific, delayed EasyJet flight, we touched down into a brutal storm. A shuttle took us to the car rental place where we were thrown some keys and told by a man in a thick Icelandic accent: “Hold on to the doors. We’ve had one of the cars already lose doors in the storm”… The winds battered the car at 70mph, we blew all over the road in a tired old Hyundai, deep into remote Iceland, with the only respite from the car being blown across the road when we hit a toll tunnel, knowing we were ten minutes away from our destination. Tired from extended delays, arms aching from gripping the steering wheel so tightly, we hooked a…

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What to do, in that odd slump between Christmas and New Year? And especially what to do, if one of your best girlfriends hits the big 3-0 in that time, too? There was only one thing for it. Grab your passport, hop on a 90 minute flight, and find yourself in fairy tale Prague…

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One thing they do not tell you is that once you’ve been through security (which you’ll probably be late for thanks to Indonesian traffic), you have to go through another round of security, meaning that you’ll be running like madwomen through Denpesaar airport, to hop on a flight to take you to Malaysia, to hop on another flight to get you to Melbourne…

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