Page 50 - 2000 ICELAND

legends, no bananas or citrus fruits are grown in Iceland—even in the
greenhouses. We went out of the city limits to have our last G-J picnic as

usual beside a stream and surrounded by smoking hills—mini-volcanoes?
There is so much smoking, hissing, breathing land in Iceland; it’s a little

spooky. Back into the little town, we went to the Eden Store that was a
wonderful plant store, souvenir shop, eatery, ice cream parlor combination.

We bought lots of souvenirs here.

On the way into the Reykjavik, Oskar pointed out the federal prison. He said

it is a low security facility since there is very little crime in Iceland. He said
that the ironic Icelanders have a saying about the prison, “The stupid

convicts climb over the fences and the smart ones just walk out of the front
gate!” Of course, then the big problem is how to get off the island. The

water’s too cold to swim and besides where would you swim to; everywhere
else is too far away. There’s only a one international airport and the

authorities would just wait for you there. So the truth is, the escapee’s real

problem is not getting out of the prison, but off “prison Iceland.” Oskar said
the escapees usually just go home so the police wait there until they've

visited with family and then take them back to the prison.

As he said goodbye to us all, he thanked us for being a cohesive and
cooperative group, all fit and eager to do the planned hikes. He called us

North Americans, his “spice girls” and said he had really enjoyed this
international group. He told us that some nationalities do not mix well and

then he told us about his most nightmarish mixture: half Israeli and half

German! No one could believe that anyone would have been insensitive
enough to combine those two countries in one small bus. He certainly left

us wanting more details about how on earth he managed his two weeks
with them!