LH Franz 
https://collections.museumsvictoria.com.au/
Our planes landed us in Iceland early in the morning. Before we left, I had sent an email to the people in charge of the our hotel/apartment asking about storing luggage if we were to arrive before check in time. They replied they do not offer this service, but we could use luggage lockers right down the street. The kind of luggage lockers I remember from my youth have keys for their locks which can be released using cash money. After 9/11, these banks of lockers were removed from transportation hubs, at least in the New York area. So here, I envisioned a locker rental store with a person behind a counter. When we got there, I was surprised to see a wall of unattended lockers monitored by security cameras. There were no keys and no people. It resembled an Amazon Hub Locker. A touch screen showed a map of the lockers indicating which were being used. You selected one that was free, the door popped open, you put your stuff in, closed the door, and created a PIN number. When you returned, you entered your PIN, the system calculated how long you used the locker and how much you owed, and prompted you to pay by credit card or a contactless electronic device. Once you paid, the locker door opened.
It was my first experience in this primarily cashless society. I would later find that everything to be bought in Iceland was bought with credit cards and contactless devices, including luggage locker rentals, bus fare, food, groceries, everything. Anywhere money needed to change hands, there were no hands involved. Just cards and electronics. At home in NJ, as well as on my previous trip to Paris, there is always a hybrid environment, with many places still accepting cash but also accepting cashless payment. That’s gradually changing. Even my hair salon now allows you to tip your beautician using Venmo. Until recently, I continued to carry a couple of dollars in my wallet, for old time’s sake, I guess.
Luggage secured, our first task was to find a place to eat. Our circadian rhythms told us it was lunch time, and both of us were hungry. The breakfast I had on the plane was small and unappetizing, perhaps more than average because I had ordered a vegetarian meal. This is a common problem. I’ve been tempted to forego ordering vegetarian meals on planes and take my chances with the choices offered on the regular menu, but it’s a little risky. There isn’t always an option I can eat. So I order vegetarian food, aware that the food will reflect someone’s belief that all vegetarians are health food nuts. I will observe the tray of the person sitting next to and see they got a little chocolate brownie or sugar cookie for dessert, while I have a piece of fruit (I love chocolate brownies! I love sugar cookies!); Instead of ranch dressing for my salad, I have oil and vinegar (how boring is that?); And the entrée is usually some kind of grain with an assortment of chopped vegetables strongly seasoned to give it flavor, often making it unpalatable. I would think, especially in the stressful environment of an airplane, people would much prefer comfort food. Pasta, macaroni and cheese, fries, grilled cheese, pizza. Especially pizza. It is my sincere belief that if airlines gave everyone the option of a couple of slices of pizza with a choice of toppings for all meals, everyone would be happy, carnivore and herbivore alike. “Vegetarian for the health food enthusiast” should be a separate option.
After strolling around a bit, stopping to read menus on display in restaurant windows, we found just the place we needed. The Gray Kat (Grai Kotturinn). They serve breakfast and lunch, closing before dinner time. I had basically the breakfast I would have liked to have had on the plane: eggs, toast, and coffee.
Properly fed and caffeinated, we turned to the SIM cards, an issue which had so vexed us in Paris. This time, Betsy had purchased two SIM cards before she left. Each of us brought an old phone from home. We moved dirty dishes aside on the table and lay our cell phones there to perform our surgery. We opened our phones and inserted the new SIM cards. We powered up the phones.
Success!
The phones quickly found the Icelandic cell network and we were in business. We sent text messages to each other to record our Icelandic phone numbers in each other’s phones. Over Grai Kotturinn’s WiFi network, we used Telegram to contact the folks at home to give them our new cell numbers. Breakfast and SIM cards out of the way, we now had three hours to kill before checking in. Betsy pulled out her Rick Steves guide to Iceland and found one of his walking tours of Reykjavik. Off we went.
