We had an early start this morning. The 4:30am alarm tried its best to wake us up but Julie really struggled. She felt she was coming down with a cold. The weather has been freezing recently and we're still living in a house without any central heating. It wasn't good for our health.

We opened the curtains and checked the weather. It was a clear morning and the app on the phone was showing -8C. That was the same temperature as Iceland!

Despite being a few minutes walk away we wisely waited for the hotel to arrange their driver to shuttle us across to Terminal 1. Our suitcase had been checked-in last night, a service they offer for very early flights. So all we had to do was walk through security.

The moment we walked through we joined the back of a very long queue. Then when we got to the X-ray machine they pulled me to one side to check the contents of my bag. "All of this should have come out of the bag, sir" he said, pointing to all my camera equipment. "Really?" I huffed (I'd never been told that before)  I didn't complain, I knew it was pointless. Instead I chose to show my displeasure through my pissed-off expression.

After they re-scanned the bag we were free to go.

It took us over an hour from reaching the terminal to buying our traditional champagne and Toberlone. That must a record delay.

Julie consoled her nerves with some retail therapy buying a perfume from Jo Malone.

We then headed to Giraffe for breakfast. We were glad to see it open. The last time we flew from here it was closed for business.

The first thing we ordered was a bottle of prosecco. Then I ordered the veggie breakfast and Julie wanted the Full English minus several items. The kind waitress suggested that it would be better to pick indivdual items from the extras.

"Not only would it be cheaper but you'll probably get more!" she said, followed by a big hearty laugh.

Because of the delay of getting through seciruty we didn't have much time to enjoy breakast. After fifteen minutes the gate number for Reykjavik came up. We hurried over to the boarding gate and by the time we got there people were already queuing to get on.

Sat in our usual seats we waited to taxi to the runway. Eventually, half an hour late we took-off over the frozen landscape of the Peak district.

It was a comfortable flight with no turbulence whatsoever. It was also a much shorter than I expected, at around two and a half hours. 

Our first glimpse of the coastline of Iceland was exciting as we flew over the South West tip, near the small town of Grindavik. We were moments from landing at Keflavik international airport.

Looking out of the window Julie followed our descent closely then said "Wow, that was a smooth landing" but we actually hadn't landed!

It was another three or four seconds later we gently bumped onto the tarmac. When she realised her mistake we burst out laughing and couldn't stop!

Through passport control we entered the terminal. The Arrivals mingled with the Departures as we walked through all the shops searching for Baggge Reclaim.

The best way to reach Reykjavik from the airport was by bus, so once we collected our tickets from the Flybus desk we walked outside to find the bus terminal. Our timing couldn't have been better as waiting for us was a Flybus and a few minutes after we sat in our seats, we set off. 

The first thing we noticed was how low the sun was in the sky. It had hardly risen despite being almost midday. It was an interesting time of year to visit, with the shortest day being not much more than four hours of daylight!  

The 50km journey would take us 45 minutes. It was quite a bleak landscape. There wasn't much to see out of the window until we came to some red and white silohs near the Rio Tinto Aluminium smelter in Straumsvik on the outskirts of Reykjavik.

Everyone got off at the BSi bus depot. From here we all had to catch different buses that took us closer to our final destinations. It was much more straightforward than we anticipated.

All the main bus stops around the city were numbered and we knew the nearest to our hotel was bus stop 14 - Skúlagata. We caught the shuttle bus with only four other passengers and within ten minutes Julie and I got off.

It was still a five minute walk to find our accomodation on a main street called Laugavegur. Then a few more minutes to find the discreet front door. We walked past it a few times. It was literally called "Room with a View Apartments" but it had no signage out front.

Eventually we found it, in between the Shop Icelandic souvenir store and a book shop/ coffee shop/ live music venue called Máls og Menningar.

We were too early to check-in but asked if we could leave our luggage with them but to our surprise the receptionist said "Your room is ready".

We hurried to the top floor for our "Room with a View" wondering what it was going to be like?

We opened the door and were honestly blown away by the view. It overlooked the Faxaflói bay towards the Esja mountain range in the distance. The weather was wonderful and with the sun barely rising all day it was bathed in this beautiful warm glow.

It was a large spacious room. It even had a balcony although we had no intentions of using it.

The bedroom was also spacious and of course came with the same view. We were pleasantly surprised by the quality.

A siesta would have been nice but we had no time to spare. We had a reservation for lunch at 1pm near to the main church, so we dumped our luggage and headed back out.

As we turned left from our apartments, I was excited to find an Einstök brewery bar on the first corner. Knowing I was coming to Reykjavik I had recently been drinking this beer at home!

Walking slightly uphill we came to Skólavörðustígur, a well-known street mostly because at the end of it was the striking modern church, Hallgrimskirkja, rising up like a rocket or a natural rock formation.

It reminded me of the basalt columns of the Giant's Causeway in Northern Ireland, a natural geological phenomenon that can also be found all over Iceland.

We reached the end of the street where the church was silouhetted by the low sun. It was now 1pm and this was as high as the sun got. The golden hour literally lasted all day here!

We didn't have time to stand and admire the church.

The restaurant ROK was just across the street and we arrived precisely on time. In hindsight we probably shouldn't have made a reservation but we were eager to eat at ROK. We had read some rave reviews about the place.

The restaurant was incredibly busy, full in fact. There wasn't a spare table apart for ours, waiting for us. The menu was influenced by New Nordic cuisine movement where local, natural and seasonal produce were centre stage and served as innovative small plates.  

I went for the interestingly sounding dish of lentil and beetroot steak. It didn't look like a steak. I wasn't expecting it to, but it was a compressed dark red patty in the style of a chunk of meat. It was served drizzled with a marinade of capers, lemon juice and olive oil, topped with a handful of watercress. The flavours were off-the-scale amazing. 

I also had a dish simply described as chestnut mushrooms on rye bread, but it was much more than that with a delicious spinach puree and slices of sweet red pepper. Again the flavours were just incredible.

Julie went for the Gravadlax, a cured salmon dish with a dill and mustard sauce and a pork belly dish served on red cabbage. She was equally in raptures over the deliciousness of each element.

What they did well was serve the dishes gradually as and when they were prepared. It took over ten minutes from start to finish which gave us plenty of time to savour each dish.

We also shared roast potatoes with alioli, which wasn't eaten with reverance but wolfed down in a frenzy. They were so good.  

At 12,330 Icelandic Kronar (£71.50) it was an expensive lunch but worth every penny.

After lunch was returned towards Hallgrimskirkja. The sun now illuminating the statue of Leif Erikson, an 11th century explorer, son of Eric the Red and believed to be the first European to set foot on the continent of America, believed to have been the modern day Newfoundland, Canada.

Walking back down the street called Skólavörðustígur we stopped at a knitwear and yarn shop of the Hand-Knitting Association of Iceland,  a group formed in 1977 by local women supplementing their income.

Julie was looking for a hat and I wanted a jumper or preferably a cardigan with the traditional Icelandic Lopapeysa design. I had seen one whilst researching for the trip, a white cardigan with grey and black design but I couldn't find one here.

Julie was increasingly feeling unwell, so we returned to our apartment. From a window in the hallway, we admired a great view looking out over  the rooftops of Reykjavik 101, towards the church.

She was rapdily going downhill and decided to go to bed for a while. We both crossed our fingers it wasn't COVID.

With itchy feet I headed out for a walk, firstly in search of bus stop no 6, (we had a tour booked for tomorrow with a pick-up from there). I quickly found it, opposite the Culture House, near Anrnarholl park which had a statue on the hill of Ingólfur Arnarson, the first Norse settlers and founder of Reykjavik. (897AD)

From the top of the hill there was a great view of the impressive Harpa Concert Hall.  A modern steel and glass structure completed in 2011. I thought about having a closer look but decided to head back towards the centre.

It wasn't long before I came across the Yule Cat. It was a wire-framed Christmas decoration of the Icelandic festive folklore of Jólaköttur, a ferocious large black cat that would eat people who hadn't received a gift of new clothes before Christmas Eve!

The fact it was also targetted at adults was fascinating!

It wasn't the only quirky Christmas tradition in Iceland. They have these Yule Lads, a bunch of mischievous old men, children of an ogre, who each have their day building up to Christmas Day. Today the 15th December was the day of Thvorusleikir also known as Spoon-licker! 

Despite enjoying my self-guided walking tour, my main mission this afternoon was to locate the off-licence. The sale of alcohol in Iceland was slightly different than in the UK because anything 5% and over must be sold in a government run store called Vínbúðin.

Prohibition of alcohol was introduced in Iceland in 1915 but over the following twenty years the ban was lifted for wine, and then spirits. The only drink still to be outlawed was "strong beer" and it remained prohibited until 1989!

The 1st March, the day it came legal, is now celebrated as Beer Day!

The mind boggles that this actually could have happened, yet I can still remember when the Sunday Closing (Wales) Act of 1881 prohibiting the sale of alcohol on a Sunday was still enforced in North Wales, with the county of Dwyfor and Meirionydd only voting to "go wet" in 1996!  

Anyway, the Vínbúðin shop was well stocked with a great selection of international wines, although they came at a price. For Julie I got a relatively cheap Cava and another cheap-ish Pinto Grigio.

For myself, I was looking for some "strong beer" by Einstök.

They had several  I hadn't heard of before, and I was excited to try them all, but they were all in packs of six. Whilst I was struggling to choose a local guy stepped up and pulled just a single bottle from a pack, then got another bottle from a different brand.

I felt liberated and began ripping out bottles like a thirsty man. I purposely grabbed ones I hadn't tried before, like a Toasted Porter, a Doppelbock, a Winter Ale and a beer stored in Scottish Whiskey barrels they called Wee Heavy.

After stocking up on supplies, I gradually made my way back to the apartment where I stopped at the Nordic Store, another shop selling traditional knitwear. There was a cardigan here that I had seen on-line and this time I was excited to find it was in stock. It was only in a small size. I usually prefer medium but I tried it on, and it fitted!

At 37,900 kr (£220) it was bloody expensive but I knew it was the one. I had never spent so much on clothing before, and I don't think I ever will again.

On the way back to the hotel I took a slight de tour to the start of  Skólavörðustígur to where the road was painted in six of the colours of the rainbow.

It was created for the 2015 Pride festival but it proved so popular that it's remained a permanent feature.

When I returned to the apartment Julie was feeling a little better, which was a relief. We relaxed for a while, sitting in the living room, watching the sky turn dark whilst slowly sipping my delicious toasted porter. We then watched an episode of Katla, an excellent Icelandic drama about an imminently erupting volcano. We downloaded the entire series onto the iPad.

Around 7pm we headed out for supper. We had a restaurant reservation for 8pm within easy walking distance.

 Most of the shops were still open and we popped inside a shop on the corner called Saga selling knitwear. It looked like a small independent store but it sold brands like Icewear. Julie spotted a jumper she really liked but it had a pull in the yarn on the front. We tried pushing it back through but it wasn't happening.

 The shop assistant then phoned around to check if anyone had one in stock. One came up trumps, so we walked slightly downhill to this other shop. We were drawn to the large Icewear sign outside. We walked straight to the counter but they knew nothing about us. We were obviously in the wrong shop.

But instead of just dismissing us, the young shop assistant kindly phoned Saga to ask the name of the store with whom they had spoken. She then directed us to the souvenir shop called Icemart where the jumper was on the counter, folded neatly and waiting for Julie. What great service from all concerned!

We made it to our restaurant Islenski Barinn, the Icelandic Bar, by 8pm. It had a cosy pub feel to it. There were people still wearing their hats and coats inside but I was finding it too warm. I was wearing my new cardigan but had to take it off.

The menu was interesting, especially because of the inclusion of Kæstur Hákarl, a fermented shark, traditionally a Greenland shark, a dish that smells of amonia, and doesn't taste much better.

Someone described it as chomping on an urine soaked matress!

I tried to persuade Julie to try it but she was having none of it!

Instead she went for their daily special which was Arctic Char, a fish similar to a salmon or trout. It looked fabulous on the plate and she absolutely loved it. She wasn't expecting such a high standard from essentially just a pub.

Sadly my expectation came crashing down with a vegan burger which was very basic to say the least. It was also served with some odd reformed fried potato discs, like something Captain Bird's Eye would have in the frozen section.

It was a sad attempt at keeping a vegetarian happy however, it was a small sacrifice to share the experience of Julie seriously enjoying her meal.

I consoled myself with a dessert of Skyr (yogurt) and blueberries in a pancake. The yogurt was thick and creamy and the dish was wonderfully balanced. They redeemed themselves.

We paid our £90 bill, half of which was on drink!

It wasn't late but we decided to head straight back to our apartment, although we took the indirect route walking up the rainbow of  Skólavörðustígur one more time.

Julie was running out of steam and we had an early start in the morning, so being in bed before 10pm was a good idea.