I always thought that when you travel overseas you should really feel like you’re in a new country. Not just culturally, but like the ground you’re walking on should actually feel foreign. And yet, every time I get off the plane, I’m surprised by how the ground feels just the same as it did back home. As the cultural differences sink in, I do realize I’m in a foreign place, but the instantaneous feeling never clicks like it seems it should. Now, it this might be due in part to the speed of our modern travel. Maybe if I took a ship across the ocean for weeks or months the distance would really sink in. But when I can jump on a plane for less than a quarter of a day and disembark a quarter of the way around the world, it loses some of its impact.
Iceland, however, did not lose its impact. It was 4am local time when I arrived, so it was dark outside when I left the airport for the shuttle bus that would take me to my hostel (of course, it’s dark for much of the day here in January, even at reasonable hours). I’ve always generally thought air is air is air; in the city it might smell bad, in the country it generally smells good, and Beijing is having such a problem they’re importing it in aerosol cans. My first breath of Icelandic air was different. Of course, in a split second, I realized it was sulfur. It’s a common smell and taste here, in both the air and the water (although luckily I haven’t tasted it, but sometimes I do smell it faintly when I turn the tap on).
I got to my hostel around 6am. I had planned to just jump right into my early day, but I hadn’t slept on the plane and I had a tour planned for the evening of my first day, so I realized I needed to crash for a few hours. The person working the desk was able to add another day to my reservation (retroactively, I guess, since it was now morning and I was paying for the night before). I still had to check out at 10am and couldn’t check in to my original reservation until 2pm, but I was able to get about 2 and a half hours solid sleep, in my clothes, on an unmade bed (this is one of those hostels where they leave the bedding folded nicely and you have to make it yourself. I pushed the sheets aside and crash-landed on the bed).
The next morning, after checking out but leaving my luggage at the hostel, I set out into Reykjavik. My first thought was that it is terribly cute, in what I might call a Germanic festivity+Icelandic simplicity style. All of the holiday lights were still up, and the little streets with shops were looking quite festive. Then I caught a glimpse between buildings and lost my breath. I hadn’t looked into the terrain around Reykjavik and thus hadn’t realized that it’s ringed with stunning, snow-covered, glacier-looking mountains. Photos absolutely can not do it justice, but it is incredible.
It feels like the top of the world. Obviously it’s not, although it is pretty far north. But there’s something about the bitter cold (it’s only been around freezing in town, but I’m convinced that Icelandic freezing is colder than New England freezing, and once you get out of the city and into open space, the wind chill is out of control) and elemental environment that makes it seem like nothing else exists in the world. It’s all just this tiny frozen island that has to be sitting on top of the planet. It doesn’t feel like a country in the same sense that other places that I’ve visited do. It’s hard to believe that people actually live and grow up here. My impression might be entirely different in summer, but during winter it’s a world all its own.
Because Iceland is so far north, the sun doesn’t rise until after 11:15am, currently. I set off for Hallgrimskirkja, the famous landmark church, to watch the sunrise from the top of the spire. It was a pretty popular idea.
Still tired from my overnight flight, I lazed around for the rest of the day, until my Northern Lights tour that night. While I knew seeing the aurora borealis was by no means certain, I figured they couldn’t run tours every night it it wasn’t likely. It’s not likely. You might see something, but chances are it’s not going to be as stunning as pictures you’ve seen (as the guide explained, photographers use long exposures to capture the Northern Lights. This lets the camera take in more color over a longer period of time and fuse it together into a single picture). I’m sure they’re spectacular on occasion, but it was not to be that night. We did see some amazing stars, though (even one shooting)!
I should mention that before the tour I grabbed a hot dog from Bæjarins Beztu Pylsur. It’s a famous stand close to the waterfront that has been frequented by many celebrities over the years and was named by The Guardian as the best hot dog stand in Europe. I didn’t realize any of this when I was there, however, as it’s a fairly nondescript little shack and there was no line. There were two friendly guys working, and they quickly set me up with the traditional order: a hot dog (with lamb) with raw onions, crunchy fried onions, ketchup, sweet mustard, and remoulade. I could probably have done without the raw onions, but it was still delicious.
Another Icelandic food that I had to try was Skyr. I heard about it ahead of time, and the real-life hype seems to live up to the online hype. Icelanders are obsessed with Skyr, a yoghurt-like dairy product. I have to say, though, that I tried it, and I wasn’t that amazed. It was good, but it tasted exactly like Greek yoghurt. Maybe my mistake was in trying a flavored kind (strawberry), maybe I just need to try it again, or maybe I just don’t get it.
Anyway, to come back to the story, the next day I set off on the Golden Circle tour. It’s worth noting that tours are incredibly popular here. Dare I say, almost too popular. They’re great, because they get you out to see (and sometimes do) things you might not necessarily be able to otherwise, especially if, like me, you’re only here for a short time. But, I met several people we were going on adventure tours every day of their trip, and one person lamented her tour being cancelled due to weather because she’d “have nothing to do.” Um, explore Reykjavik. Go to a museum. Eat at a local restaurant. Anyway, tours are very popular. There are a dozen different companies, and they offer regular bus tours, snowmobiling, ATVs, horse back riding, and even scuba diving, which I would NOT want to do in January in Iceland (dry suit or not)!
The Golden Circle is a popular tourist route that connects many incredible sites, including Þingvellir, a national park that is also the rift between the North American and European tectonic plates; Haukadalur, a geothermal area with geysers Geysir (after which all others take their name) and Strokkur; and Gullfoss waterfall. Now, Geysir is supposed to be (as you would imagine, being the progenitor of the name) an incredibly impressive geyser, but after an earthquake several years back, it now erupts infrequently and unpredictably. So, we’re left with Strokkur, which is still a sight to behold and erupts in nicely timed 8 minute intervals.
I haven’t mentioned yet how cold it was, but it was frigid. The temperature was definitely below freezing with plenty of wind chill. Being out of the bus for 20 minutes was uncomfortable; any longer than that was miserable. I lost feeling in my extremities many times that day. But the last stop, Gullfoss, had the craziest natural conditions. Our guide warned us that it was very “slippy” and even windier outside than it was before, but I was almost knocked off my feet by the gusts. I clamped my hands over my ears to keep my hat and scarf off and set off to the waterfall, secretly using the man walking in front of me as a wind-shield. I know we’ve all felt whipping winds, but I can’t even find the words to relate how strong this wind was. I was amazed no one was blown over the (rather precarious) lookout point. Gullfoss, although partly frozen, was a sight to behold, and I only wish conditions had been kinder so I could have spared it more than a single look and photo before hightailing it into the gift shop for the remaining 37 minutes of our 45 minute stop.
I got home in time for a dinner of Icelandic fish and chips, which is apparently incredibly popular here.
On my last day I did what I should have done on my first day: a walking tour. Free walking tours are usually the best way to get introduced to a new city, even with the high speed winds that there were today. After walking around Reykjavik and learning more tidbits about the city and country, I found a cafe to hunker down in for a few hours. Now I’m trying to repack my bags for my flight to Dublin tomorrow!
Going Out Your Door 