Cold Mountains

Not where I am. And vive le difference. Mountains may be mountains, but the ochre, sandy, heat-baked ones that I’m looking at – majestic and dramatic though they are – are a far cry from these ones at the top end of the world.

They are, I’m reliably informed, Mount Olstind in Norway and the Vestrahorn in Iceland respectively.

Both are places I desperately now want to go, and both are literally half a world from where I am now.

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