Some roadside rest stops have picnic tables. This one had crosses depicting all those who have died on a particularly bad stretch of highway over some volcanic hills northeast of Reykjavik. It is an effort by private citizens to get their government to upgrade the road and save lives.
The real problem is that even with round-the-clock plowing, ice, gale-force winds, and too many hours of pure darkness make driving an iffy proposition.
Such a good play on words. Crosses remind me of U.S.-Mexican border fence’s attached and painted crosses symbolizing lives lost crossing the border. Be it bleak or stark, they influence passerbys.
On to Munich??
Thanks. Yes, we are in Munich now, but the blog has just left Reykjavik.
When you finished looking at the sky’s Northern Lights and looked down, was Marcia still there? Or had she “gone with the wind”?
YIW,
Hymie