Feel The Milky Breath Of The Glacial Beast Stir Your Lactose Intolerance

So this is where it ends. The minibus pulls to an open field of straw yellow encroaching upon shores strewn with ancient lava, and Snaefellsjokull volcano and glacier dominate the horizon.  The turistas all run down the paths at it like some great white Pied Piper, as if they had a shot at reaching its foothills in the 35 minutes we were given. 

They do not reach it.  

I shrug, pull the camera out, make peace with the fact that there are too many garishly bright jacketed foreigners in the field of view.  I take the picture.  Snaefellsjokull is a Mt Shasta wannabe.  

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