On coincidence


viking explorer

The rain that prevented me from photographing Gudrid’s farm also delayed my arrival in Dalir. The wind picked up as we drove along the southern side of the Snæfellsnes Peninsula and around to the north. Even driving an SUV had become treacherous. My husband and I stopped for dinner and contemplated whether we should proceed to the Dales, where I was planning to photograph along the Laxá Valley.

A few days ago I had the intuition that I would be around here on this night but had failed to book accommodation. I had emailed a farm that advertised guest lodging but they had not responded. In the lovely restaurant by the brooding sea, I consulted the Internet on my iPhone, hoping to find a place to stay. It was then that I received a response from the guesthouse.

“We are waiting for you”.

When we pulled in the driveway an…

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