Borealis Bob and a polar bear called Hrammur

You know, I planned on being totally faithful to this blog. I really did. Every evening, glass of merlot in hand, I'd wittily and eruditely recount the events of the day.

But I have been remiss. Mea culpa. My poor little blog has been sadly neglected. But this shall be rectified forthwith! Just let me pour myself a glass...

Now...Iceland. Land of frozen wastes, the odd mountain, glacier fields, geysers, geezers with beards, expensive booze and left hand drive cars. And of course Northern Lights. Ah, the Northern Lights. Wonderful Man was very excited about getting a superb shot of these little babies (which come in all shades of green, red or even purple depending on sun spots. Apparently. More on that later). But sadly it was not to be. Not this time, anyway.

But our lovely hotel, the Hotel Ranga (complete with Hrammur the polar bear - a mere ten feet tall, paws raised and outstretched, teeth bared, and wearing a santa hat, he towers over reception with a glint in his eye) more than made up for it. In the middle of a glacier field, miles from anywhere, this log-cabined haven rears up from the darkness. An orangey glow filters from the windows, and outside the rooms there are hot tubs. Hot tubs!

On our first night we stayed up late, set up camp (and a bank of cameras) on the balcony, and waited for the show to start. Something was happening. We couldn't see much because of the thick cloud, but there was a dancing, a sparkling in the corner of the sky. Lights were moving behind the cloud, constantly changing, first bright, then dark, then moving from side to side. Right above us there were stars - the Ranga is in a strange, slightly Bermuda-triangle-esque area, meaning that a hole opens in the cloud above the hotel, yet the horizon is shrouded in thick cloud.

But the hotel has much much more than that. More than the pool table complete with reindeer antler chandelier (where I discovered that Wonderful Man was a pool shark), more than the smorgasbord with over ninety delicacies from smoked salmon to whale (we feasted on twelve different types of herring, the most delicious thing I have ever tasted), and even more than the midnight dips in the steaming hot tubs. The Hotel Ranga has Borealis Bob. The encyclopaedically knowledgeable Borealis Bob. Dapper in a sharp suit, what this chap doesn't know about the Aurora Borealis ain't worth knowing. He regaled us with tales of sun spots, atmospheric pressure, borealis colours and Times I Have Seen The Lights. And then to cap it all off, he gave us a stunningly enthusiastic rendition of Hotel California. Thrashing away on his electric guitar, head thrown back, he wellied it into the microphone with a voice that would melt the Eiffel Tower. Although of course it was "Welcome to the one and only Hotel Ranga". For not only is Borealis Bob a world authority on the lights, but he is also an ex-rock star, having played in a band called BB and the Medicine Men. We were entranced! So entranced in fact that we have booked to return in March, for a whole blissful week of lights, herring and ice. And of course Bob. Hotel Ranga wouldn't be the one and only Hotel Ranga without him.

And to think that this was my birthday present from Wonderful Man. A girl can't get much luckier.