This post has been a long time coming.  In the hustle and bustle of arriving back 'home', moving things, unpacking, resuming work, I've felt a little out of sorts.

Coming back to the familiar is always a little weird.  My local bagelry closed its doors, but there's now a kickass vegan deli within walking distance.  Our apartment is smaller, but more central.  Some team members from my magical Lush store have disappeared, but we've got some kooky replacements.  Same same, but different.

A photo posted by Anastaszia Ward (@anastasziaward) on Nov 23, 2015 at 1:59am PST

A photo posted by Anastaszia Ward (@anastasziaward) on Nov 26, 2015 at 12:02am PST

This blog has also been nagging at me just a little bit.  A couple of times I've gotten emails from brands and companies and other blogs, talking about collaboration (and if you're one of them, and I stopped replying... I'm really sorry) and I just kept wondering what this blog was to me now.

It started as a travel journal to tell my family about my trip, then some of you came along, and I kept sharing my travels and my stories.  What is it now that I'm stagnant and stable and living with my cat?  Do you still care what I'm doing?

Things got normal really quickly.  Nick and I were going to artist's markets and going to the cinema and I was spending most days at Lush as soon as we got home.  We were building our new home and cooking dinner and trying new eateries.  It's all become very normal.

A photo posted by Anastaszia Ward (@anastasziaward) on Nov 27, 2015 at 6:08pm PST

A photo posted by Anastaszia Ward (@anastasziaward) on Nov 29, 2015 at 6:49pm PST

Coming back down to earth has been tricky, but lovely.  I'm not sure if my regular, everyday, bath-loving life is something of interest, but I missed blogging a lot, so it looks like I'm back for now.  I'll probably be trying out some new things while I work out what this blog *is* to me, so bear with me.

See you soon (with actual content!)

<3

A few days ago, I spent a long day in Paris where I walked the stairs of the Notre Dame and ate far too much food.

I'm not one of those people who is a full-blown Francophile, but there are lots of things that attract me to France.  I don't speak even speak French, but I'm really into French words.  Probably my favourite is dérive.  The other is flâneur.

I just spent three and a half months living in a tiny, rural, secluded village in the north of Iceland, and I learnt a lot of things.

Silfra, in case you're not aware, is the spot in Iceland where two tectonic plates are pulling apart, and you can actually get right between them.

Iceland has no shortage of 'hot pots', and they can mean just about anything.  It could be a plastic pool with warm water and slides, the Blue Lagoon its alcohol and masseuses, a hot rocky pot in the middle of (seemingly) nowhere, or anything in between. 

This weekend Skagaströnd saw the first stages of the annual horse roundup or rettír.  The hundreds of horses who spent summer living on the mountains were herded down to a paddock to be sorted and checked on.

Getting a tattoo in Iceland was an idea that had been floating around my head for a while, but I'm not someone to ask for a line drawing of a compass or the word 'wanderlust' on my forearm.

I've been in this strange place between being incredibly busy, and incredibly stagnant.  

Let me introduce you to an Icelandic word I learnt recently: Sólarhringur.  With this word in mind, let's say goodbye to my Scandinavian summer.

I have been in Iceland for two months today, which is completely surreal.  The last week brought a flu I'm still shaking off, and there's nothing like getting sick to make you miss home.

For the last couple of weeks I had been flirting with the idea of swimming in the sea. 

As you've probably read or deduced (or maybe you're new... hi!), I'm currently living and working in Iceland since late June.  

Scotland's Isle of Skye, one of the Inner Hebrides, is a day's drive from Glasgow or Edinburgh and one of the most popular sites in Britain.  With the ominous Cuillin mountains looming overhead, clear waterfalls and lush, green countryside, it's easy to see why.

The Hurtigruten exemplifies Norway.  Whether it’s sitting in a Jacuzzi in the midnight sun, passing by snowcapped mountains and dramatic fjords or sipping Hot Toddy’s under the dazzling Northern Lights, the Hurtigruten provides the perfect mix of rugged landscape, luxury and arctic intrigue.