When the Icelandic Airlines plane landed to no applause, I felt I was now in a country of reserved and serious people. They seemed proper and somewhat friendly, but not frivolous. There were more tall, blond men and women at Keflavic Airport than I can remember seeing in any one location.

The 50-kilometer bus trip to Reykjavic, the capital, was over rough-edged, dark black, crazy-quilt lava formations, without a trace of green. Our entire group of six - me, my wife Lorraine, her twin sisters Louise and Clara, and their husbands - thought we had made a huge mistake.

From this lunar landscape we entered the outskirts of Reykjavic and saw the first signs of civilization. The houses were built like army barracks, but the roofs were attractively painted in soft pastel colors. The white snow-capped mountains and the blue Atlantic waters combined for a striking panorama.

Our fears faded as we entered the Hotel Saga. It was both comfortable and cozy, and quite European, with a roaring fireplace just off the lobby.

More tall, beautiful blondes in the lobby. The rooms had television with CNN, TNT and the Sky Network (British) for people who can't live without the news of the world.

Iceland is a volcanic island with glaciers. It is temperate, due to the Gulf stream current. Pollution-free energy is derived from digging 250 meters into the ground and releasing super-hot water which is pumped into the homes in insulated pipes. Rivers and waterfalls are harnessed for inexpensive hydroelectric power.

An Icelander whom I met over a sumptuous breakfast (six types of herring, cheeses, fruits, eggs and meats) told me his utility bill runs about $30 a month. The water is so hot that when it enters his home it has to be cooled down before it is used.

The population of Iceland is 275,000 people, with more than half living in the Reykjavic area. The interior is sparsely inhabited. Reykjavic means "Smoky Bay" in Icelandic, named when the first exploreres saw the geothermal springs and geysers. Geyser is an Icelandic word.

It is now a "smokeless" city because there is no manufacturing. Shops, gourmet restaurants and light industry are computerized.

Fishing is the main industry. They export fish to Europe and the USA. At a fish processing plant we saw monkfish (ugly, but delicious - tastes like lobster), haddock, halibut, plaice, cod, red snapper and salmon. Cod is exported, but haddock is eaten by Icelanders. The fish are caught with long lines that are baited mechanically. Greenhouses supply fruits and vegetables (even bananas).

The spoken language is ancient Icelandic. They are proud of speaking the language of their Viking ancestors. The unusual alphabet symbols made reading signs virtually impossible. English and Danish are taught in the schools and no translators are needed by tourists.

Nordic people settled here in the 9th Century. Christianity arrived on this pagan island in the year 1,000 A.D. In 1550 A.D., it was converted to Lutheranism. Ninety percent of the citizens are Evangelical Lutherans.

Enough of this erudition. Two stories to tell.

1. The Blue Lagoon: My brothers-in-law and I went swimming outdoors in the pool of a smoking geyser in cold weather. The natural blue waters were nice and warm, but the air was freezing. Supposedly, the geysers have wonderful healing powers. The smell of sulfur pervaded the atmosphere. Our wives laughed as we frolicked in the Blue Lagoon.

2. Stanley's Haircut: I love to get haircuts while on vacation because it's easy to meet native people other than waiters or cab drivers. This time I was very lucky. A tall, beautiful, blond Icelandic woman was my barber.

She meticulously trimmed my curly locks as I surreptitiously sneaked peeks of her in the mirror. The haircut was magnificent. I received many compliments on the haircut when I returned home to Long Island. I am glad that I overtipped my statuesque tonsorial genius.

Our group was made to feel very welcome on this four-day vacation adventure. Iceland is no longer just an obscure island on the map of the North Atlantic.

. . .

Thanks to all my readers who replied to my "The Walls of Jericho" column. The following is for you:

It is almost certain that noise walls will be built on the north side of the Long Island Expressway, adjacent to the homes of The Hamlet. There will be no wall on the south side of the LIE, adjacent to Home Depot.

To Mr. Paul Silpe of Jericho, who complained that the noise walls by his street aren't tall enough to block out the sound: I conferred with the sound walls' design project manager. I showed him your picture. He said that only the first row of houses are affected by the wall, and only those homeowners will be polled for questions and opinions on the project.