+354 = (512)

The Land has welcomed me again, and the jingles are surfacing from my memory 2 months ago as I go by the chain restaurants like "American Style" and Brimbourg.

This morning as I was on my way through the familiar halls of KEF, following a college guy in low-slung pants accessorized with the Lonely Planet Iceland book and a map, I realized that I've been through this airport enough times in the past year that it's starting to feel like the airport in Austin, Texas.

They're both about the same size and newness level, with the exception of the KEF Hall of Purgatory, where I've had to wait for planes and stare at the stained khaki carpet a few times. Of course if you want to pick up a side of smoked lamb or some sheep eyeballs, you're probably out of luck in Austin.

Still, it's easier to fly to KEF from the East Coast than it is to fly to AUS, and I'm about as familiar with things there in Texas than I am with things in Iceland. The land around the airport is similarly wasteland themed as well. Now if only they had the great Tex-Mex food here, we'd have something.