The plane flight from Seattle to Reykjavik goes over Manitoba, Hudson’s Bay, Greenland. When we were renting our 4×4 (so we can drive the “ring road” in winter), Ken mentioned that his family were Icelanders from Canada and also mentioned Gimli, Manitoba, which she recognized right away. “Groups of Icelanders go there every year to see where their decendants went to in Canada…we call our decendants ‘Westerner-leavers,'” she told us. She mentioned that the heritage website was very popular now in Iceland and that Ken should take Doc Joe’s information to them to see who our relatives are in Iceland. The 49 km drive from the airport to Reykjavik was a little like the lava fields in Idaho, except that the Atlantic ocean borders the entire drive. And there are some really unique fish homes on the rocks next to the ocean in places, which seems completely Scandanavian. Reykjavik is an odd place. It reminds me (Ken) of Calgary a little because it is spread out in a similar way with crossing highways and some trees here and there and lots of open spaces. It’s like the old parts of Burnaby too with all kinds of apartments, some pretty old, some converted homes, some tall and just being built. The neighbourhood we are in is old with lots of low-level apartments too, but also with some old homes that all have tin roofs and many that are painted in bright colours. We are in Iceland, and Aunty Evelyn and Grandpa Joe are in my mind, and great uncle Chris, Rose and May, Uncle Earling. All the Icelanders who touched my life.