Iceland

We rented a compact car from a small local outfit. The company rep was a young, energetic guy with a shaved head. He seemed relieved to see us and eager to get on with his day. When we arrived at the car, parked directly in front of the terminal, he motioned for me to get into the passenger seat so I could fill out the paperwork. When I was done, he handed me the keys and left on foot. Garam got in, and I sat in the driver’s seat, amazed at the ease with which I obtained a car in this exotic land—a couple of clicks, sign here, and off we go.

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