We spent a lot of our time driving in separate cars, which meant that I didn’t get to spend as much time with Rob, Charles, and Diane as I would have liked. A midnight celebration of the summer solstice was a chance for us to get together and soak in our strange surroundings. The tour organiser had arranged for us to spend the night on the beach near the farm of some of his friends. The farmers drove us to the beach, told us we could choose to build a bonfire if we wished, and then turned around and disappeared for an hour. It was very cold, so we were very motivated to build a driftwood bonfire. Andy, Adrian and I built an excellent base that was full of kindling and cardboard. We then stacked dried driftwood on top, only to discover that we had no matches. We found one piece of wood that looked like a seal, and called him Frederick. Jay later placed Frederick on the fire, and I watched sadly as the flames engulfed him. Adrian and I went egg hunting while we waited for our hosts to return, and found two nests in the sand, each with two speckled eggs.

A while later, the farmers returned with matches, blankets, and food. Charles was too cold and left, but the rest of us sat around the bonfire that quickly ignited. We ate fresh rolled pancakes dipped in hot chocolate, while sitting on a black sand beach with the waves rolling in. It was the middle of the night, yet the sky was still light. An extraordinary way to mark the summer solstice. We were told that this night is full of magic. If we were to roll around naked in the dew, our diseases may be cured. If we placed a special orchid root under our own pillow and an unrequited love, their heart would be ours. And this was the night for venturing into enchanted places to collect magic rocks that grant wishes. I had no need for any of those rituals, as I was having a perfect night with wonderful people in an amazing country.

There are horses everywhere in Iceland. Even more plentiful than the sheep, they are dotted along the landscape where ever there is green grass. They are exported worldwide, used for recreation and farm work, and sometimes found on the menu. There has been no interbreeding for more than 1000 years, and the rules are so strict that even a horse that goes abroad to compete may never return.They are curious and gentle creatures. One strange habit they have is resting on their sides – flat out on the ground with their heads resting on the ground.

We even had a chance to go horse riding. Or more correctly, horse sitting. I sat on the horse, and it followed a pre-programmed course around the farm for 90 minutes. I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. However, my horse was very sweet. His name is Vina, Icelandic for ‘friend’. Sometimes he was a little rascally though, stopping to eat buttercups along the way, which meant that by the end of the ride his lips were completely yellow. We took a picturesque ride through green pastures, along a black sand beach, and through meadows filled with wildflowers. I was even able to experience the tölt – a unique gait of Icelandic horses that is faster than a trot, but still smooth and comfortable.

Our last days in Australia were spent in one of my favourite cities – Sydney, New South Wales. The weather was gorgeous. It was warm and sunny, and the sky was almost impossibly blue. We decided to begin the day by taking in a bird’s eye view of the city from Sydney Tower. Strangely, one can no longer simply purchase a ticket just to the observation deck, one must also take part in the OzTrek experience, “an amazing virtual reality ride across Australia”. The only amazing part of it was how terribly our culture was represented to foreigners. Firstly, we were seated in a rotating theatre that used holograms to bring to life four “iconic” scenes – the outback, the beach, the rain forest, and the city. Now, while I am a big fan of holograms, even that wasn’t quite enough to compensate for the superficial representation of our land. The indigenous Australians got nothing more than a passing mention.

The best was yet to come. We were herded into the next room for “the largest simulated ride in the southern hemisphere”. After we sat down on our seats, the lap bars lowered from above to lock us in. Three minutes into the show, Adrian nudged the lap bars up, activating the safety feature and the movie aborted. After ten minutes of fussing around, they began the movie again, but again three minutes in a German tourist accidentally activated the safety switch and aborted the film. While they were again resetting the system a the tourist pleaded just to be let out, and said that he really didn’t need to see the show a third time. However, his request was ignored, and for the third time we were told to “have a Captain Cook at this”. When the film neared its end, the audience cheered, though out of a sense of relief, rather than enjoyment. Finally, an hour after we entered the tower, we were able to actually go up to the viewing deck and look out upon Sydney. It was quite beautiful, and I was able to pose with the tallest working post box in the Southern Hemisphere. Everest base camp, Shanghai, and Toronto all claim to have the highest in the world – I will have to investigate this further.

In the afternoon, we caught the Manly Ferry across the spectacular harbour. The Harbour Bridge and the Opera House dazzled in the sunlight, and the water reflected the azure light of the sky. We enjoyed a coffee at Manly Beach before heading back to Circular Quay. We dined on the harbour, soaking up the final rays of the summer light. Luckily, my mother was able to join us for our last moments in Australia, before Adrian and I emigrate to Belgium. Then, it was time for us all to take our separate paths. John was able to tick off his sixth continent, and we farewelled him before he flew back to the icy winter of New York City. Then mum, in turn, waved us goodbye as we left the country of our birth to try our hand at living in Belgium, via a stop over in Dubai.