The Price of Peace

Today our tour took us on a bus ride of the highlights of Paris. The idea is that we get the lay of the land so to speak.

We circled the Eiffel Tower, a posh neighborhood,  our guide told us.

We crossed the Seine to the Right Bank  and learned about Baron von Hausmann's reinvention of Paris urban architecture.  People who live here have money, she said.

We kept going around the Louvre, and headed up another posh street. The most expensive street in Paris is over to the left, she says.  Rue de la Pax. Translated : the street of peace.

Yes it is.

Casting for Northern Lights

The stars and planets aligned last night. The weather was clear and the forecast for solar activity was moderate. Plus, I had a voucher for a tour, so we didn't have to drive.

On the way to the viewing spot, at Thingvellir National Park, the moon was up,shining brightly at nearly full. It wasn't quite dark enough, so I took the opportunity to make a list of blog posts to write and catch you up.

As we arrived, our guide said seeing the lights is like fishing, it takes patience. Normally. I don't fish at temperatures just above freezing, but the analogy was appropriate.

I rarely catch big fish. Last night, we caught the guppie.

We saw a faint mist that gave the idea of how grand the lights can be. It was amazing to watch the faint yellow-green glow emerge from the semi-darkness, to grow and stretch its fingeretips.

But the many pictures you see of the lights painting the sky, it was not. In fact, you probably wouldn't have seen them at all we we you not looking.

We have another shot tonight, but sun activity is forecast to be a little less and clouds may roll in after dark. However, I think we're going to need to try a different bait.

Northern lights?

As I write, we are at Hotel Geysir, hoping the skies will clear again and we will see the northern lights. This is the first clear day we-ve had our entire trip.

Cross your fingers for us.

The edge of glory

Thursday's travels ended at Gulfoss, or Golden Waterfall. What had been slated for hydroelectric power production was preserved by a single crusader in the 1900s.

The falls are more powerful than Niagra, though not nearly as big. They plunge in two stages to a gorge below. Trails at the overlook park split in two, and I chose the low road (no comment from the peanut gallery).

The trail ran at the level of the second dip. Spray from the falls pelted me as I wallked along the trail. At the end, a rocky ledge, about 25 feet wide, stepped up from the path.

"No way " I said under my breath. And climbed up.

The ledge reached out nearly into the falls. I could see the mud churned up by the velocity of the water. The sound of rushing water enveloped me, as thousands upon thousands of water continued their plunge to the gorge below.

Despite the volume, despite the spray, despite the (somewhat) precarious position, this was a peaceful place for me and I stood watching and listening to the raw power of nature. Its good to be reminded of that once in a while.