There's a reason why I hide my "naughty cache" in Villingaholt. Villingur= a wild person, quite naughty, holt= hollow. There goes around a funny story that happened in my family and people are still telling that story. Doesn't every family have such stories that are told over and over again?
My uncle and his family were driving out of Reykjavík, probably to their summerhouse they owned 30+ years ago. The son was naughty in the car and the parents therefore totally exhausted. Dad says:"If you don't stop NOW I'll drive you to Villingaholt and leave you there!!.
The son doesn't believe that Villingaholt exist UNTIL...he suddenly sees the sign VILLINGAHOLT and everything starts to be quiet all the way to their summerhouse.
We still laugh at this story when someone tells it so, I found it a great idea of mine to call my cache "naughty cache" and hide it here in Villingaholt. It connects me with memories from my childhood