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Matt Wilson Iceland March 2012: Becoming a Digital Nomad “Velkomin á Íslandi” I heard as I pried my eyes open getting off the red eye flight. Beautiful blonde Icelandic women with farm working physiques bullied their way gracefully to the overhead compartment.    My mountain guide met me at the terminal.  “Hello I am Siggurdur Bjarni Svienson.” (spelling) he said with a long pause.  “But you can call me Siggi he said, with a slight sense of dry Icelandic humor.”   The sun was barely up.  A thick mist of dense clouds rolled in from the North Atlantic.  The ground was black, covered with sharp lava rock. Not a tree in sight. Where the fuck am I? I wondered. I started to feel bad that humans even attempted to live here. We wound our way down the Icelandic coastline to the capital city of Reykjavik where 230,000 of the 330,000 inhabitants of this bleak terrain decided to call home. Siggi dropped me at my hostel and said he’d return that evening. I was on my own.   Becoming a Digital Nomad  What was the first thin