I'm walking south down a residential street in Reykjavík, Iceland, not so much because I know where I'm going, but more to avoid facing the bone-chilling, Arctic wind which is howling at my back. Sure, it's supposed to be spring - but when you're in the northernmost capital city in the world, it's wise to adjust your expectations accordingly.
In Reykjavík, Iceland, funky statues can pop up at any turn. (2006). I took this photo with my Olympus SP-310 on a cold, May morning. For other posts on my trip to the North Atlantic last year, click here.
Still, as I put my hood up to cover my ears, I can't help bitterly muttering to myself: "Next time, how about picking a warm-weather country to visit?" You see, sometimes I'm about as brilliant as a guy who, well, bitterly mutters to himself. Umm, yeah.
Anyway, I keep shivering down the road and, eventually, I happen to stumble upon a captivating, unmarked statue. I'm immediately intrigued. Who created it? Where did it come from? Why is it here?
I need answers! But it soon becomes apparent that I have none.
Completely defeated by this mystery, I drop to my knees and cry to the heavens, "Oh, won't somebody please send me a sign!!" ...
Now, if I were a real travel writer, I'd be able to finish the above story without you falling asleep. But, alas, I am not a real travel writer. As a result, the editor has ordered me back to school and signed me up for Amanda Castleman's online travel writing course, over at writers.com.
If I manage to successfully graduate without getting myself kicked out of class first, will it mean I have become a real-life, travel writer? Probably, no. But that's ok since becoming a travel writer isn't the ultimate goal - all I really want is to be able to impersonate a travel writer. Besides, if the course ends up being half as much fun as Amanda's blog, I figure it'll be worth the price of admission. I'll let you know how it all turns out in the end.