Reykjavik’s Most Wanted.

Hey there people.

It’s been a long day.

I woke up early and enjoyed a breakfast of toast, yogurt and various other items. After talking with the lone staff member at the Hotel Hilda, I set off down the Barugata to the pickup point.

As the temperature was -3C, my hands were cold. These gloves were useless. I went inside the Hotel Plaza and sat down… And then I saw them. They were just sitting there on a seat. They were absolutely beautiful compared to most I’d seen. That’s right! A pair of gloves just sitting there. Lost and abandoned.

I waited for twenty minutes for someone to claim them. However, it never happened. And so began the great glove heist of 2013. There were four people in the room. Two staff, a lady on a laptop (Which looked older than me.) and a man chatting on the phone. I had to wait for the right moment.

Despite the fact that I wasn’t even checked into this hotel, I had to make it look like I had forgotten them. I got up and walked around the room, looking lost. The lady on the laptop looked up at me as I walked past. “Shit, she’s onto me.” I remember thinking as I made a beeline to the gloves. Through some amazing acting on my part, I made my face light up as I set my eyes on them. I then sat down and put them on. They were comfy as hell. Black leather. The kind of gloves you see worn by murderers. They were mine.

I walked out of the hotel with warm hands and an adrenaline rush from performing the biggest heist in Reykjavik’s history. Then I started to wait.

I waited an hour as various coaches and minibuses turned me down and I was beginning to give up hope. As a single Reykjavik Excursions vehicle dropped off some passengers, I asked the driver if I should have been picked up earlier. He took one look at my ticket and realised that I should have been on an earlier bus. He told me to hop in and gave me a lift to the bus terminal about 2km away. Upon arrival, I saw my bus. The RE04-1.

I stepped onto the coach and was met by a handful of staring eyes. Mainly younger people. I was one of the last to board the coach although the next lot of people to climbed aboard were going to become my travel buddies for the day.

There were four of them. Three females. One male. The catch? They were Irish. (Kidding, I love the Irish.). We exchanged brief pleasantries and then they started reinforcing their own stereotypes by conversing about how much alcohol they had consumed over the past few hours…

To be continued after I grab some food.

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