"My wife is from Scotland," the man explained, giving his son a fond look. "You say thank you to the English lady."

"American, not English. I'm from Seattle."

Geirfinnur's father adopted the same look of concentration his son had worn as he obviously tried to pinpoint Seattle.

"It's in the Pacific Northwest. Upper left-hand corner of the country. We have Boeing and Amazon."

"Seattle?" the man said, his brow clearing. "Nintendo!"

"Yes, we have that, too," I answered, smiling as my dance partner leaped around us shouting, "Nintendo, Nintendo! Super Mario Brothers!"

"You are here as a tourist? I am Jens Jakobsson. That is Geirfinnur."

"Yes, I'm with a… uh…" I waved a vague hand, suddenly shy about the fact that I was on a singles' tour. "It's a three-week tour of Europe."

"That is most excellent. You enjoy Island?" He pronounced the word "Iceland" with its native inflection.

"Very much. Dalkafjordhur is a lovely little town. We've been here two days and have three more to explore Reykjavík and the area before we move on to Holland."

"This is good," he said, grinning. "You are so kind to Geirfinnur, we will show you around tonight, show you places tourists don't normally see. We know a good place to see fireworks. You would like that?"

"I would love it," I said, sincerely pleased at the thought of meeting some local folk. My happiness was short-lived as I pulled up a mental image of the tour itinerary. "Only… drat. I think our tour is going out into the countryside tonight, to see some ruins."

"Ruins are very pretty here," Jens said. "But not as pretty as fireworks, I think."

"Fireworks!" Geirfinnur parroted, suddenly rushing me and wrapping his arms around my waist as he looked up. "Fireworks are good!"

"Geir, do not annoy the lady. She has a tour to go with. What ruins are you going to visit?"