Upon mentioning Iceland as my next big destination, I was met with two very distinct responses: the first (and preferable) one being an astounded gaze followed by words of encouragement, envy and awe of all that the remote country has to offer, and the second (and probably more common) being more of a blank stare followed by phrases like "Well, what do you do there?" "Do people live there?" "Is there much to see?" "Isn't is really cold there?" "Stop wasting your life" (not as common) and the simple classic, "Why?"
Apparently Iceland is a polarizing destination in terms of visitors. There are some that appreciate the rugged beauty and relatively unspoiled natural wonders and dream of visiting the small island nation, and then there are others that couldn't care less about visiting the tiny piece of land in the middle of the North Atlantic with such an inviting name. Obviously, I'm a part of the former group, as Iceland has long been one of the top places on my never-ending list of future destinations. As with New Zealand, from what I had seen and read, Iceland looked like a land of mountains, glaciers, waterfalls and green pastures, all of the sort of scenery that makes for a perfect retreat from civilization and a rewarding roadtrip.
So, thanks to my almost weekly email from IcelandAir, I found a good price on flights, did a tiny bit of planning, and booked my trip. Excited about both the price and destination, I even convinced one of my best friends, Mike, to join me for the trip, though I think I probably could have convinced him to go pretty much anywhere other than the Middle East, as long as it was away from his office for a while. I would be in the country for two weeks - the first week alone on the road and the second week recapping some of the highlights and a few new spots with Mike along for the ride and some entertainment.
Getting to Reykjavík itself turned out to be a bit of an adventure in itself, as I had an eight hour stopover in New York City highlighted by a cross-town bus ride in a dilapidated Greyhound-type bus straight from the 1960s. After an hour of bone-jarring bumps and crashes as the windows sounded like they would shatter at any moment, I successfully made it from airport to airport in the cheapest way possible. Once on the plane, I was relieved to see that I had a seat in the first row, meaning infinite legroom, which is so important on international flights (though Iceland is only about 5 hours from NYC). The lamb manicotti dinner wasn't quite as pleasant, and I hoped it wasn't a sign of the food to come, as the food was definitely not expected to be one of the highlights of my trip.
Arriving on the island around 7 am, I quickly picked up my little hatchback rental car and hit the road. My first impression of the island was a bit of what I had feared - dreary, cloudy weather, just above 60 degrees with bits of drizzle in the air. I knew I'd definitely get some weather like this, but I hoped that it wouldn't last for most of the trip. Driving past former lava fields filled with jagged black rock piles, I was surprised to see sprouts of wildflowers along the side of the road, purple and white mountain lupines, common in areas like New Zealand and Colorado. After 45 minutes on the road, I entered the capital city, trying to decipher the meaning of the abbreviated street signs, not having any idea what most of the words meant. The Icelandic language is said to be a very complex language to learn, descended from the Old Norse language of the Vikings, but luckily almost everyone in the country speaks at least a little, often very good English, so I only learned a few basics of the language. Eventually, I veered off the main highway towards the relatively large downtown area. The city of about 180,000 contains nearly 2/3 of the residents of Iceland, though it's not a huge city by any standards. As I pulled into town on an early Sunday morning, the streets were eerily quiet and empty, thanks to an Reykjavík custom of partying until 5 or 6 in the morning on Saturday nights, so most of the city was catching up on their much needed sleep as I parked my car and began to explore the city.
As you'd expect, the city has a sort of typical Scandinavian feel - wooden architecture, pastel and white colored buildings, impeccably clean and a very safe atmosphere all wrapped up in a nice package accented with green parks and pleasant waterways. I made my way up to Hallgrimskirkja, the church dominating the center of town and visible from up to 20 km away, as it's one of the few tall pieces of architecture on the flat peninsula of land occupied by the city. The ascending, hexagonal columns on each side of the church continue to rise until they meet in the middle at the steeple, about 225 feet tall. The pattern is said to be modeled after the basalt columns of one of Iceland's most popular waterfalls, Svartifoss, but unfortunately it was mostly concealed by some scaffolding in place to restore the concrete. Nevertheless, I took the elevator to the top for nice aerial views of the city and surrounding bays before deciding to move on. The church is also fronted by a statue of Leif Erikson, a hero of the country and probably the first European to set foot in America, 400 or 500 years before Columbus sailed the ocean blue.
(A sort of viking ship in a monument to good ole Leif, probably not as sea-worthy as the actual vessel used to discover North America.)
(A nice pristine lake called Tjörnin in the center of the city.)
(A view of the Northern side of Reykjavík from the church steeple.)
(And the Southeastern side of town from the same lookout. Look at all of the pretty colors. Nice, eh?)
(The town of Vík. Yeah, that's pretty much it.)
(Fields of these purple mountain lupines cover the volcanic fields of ash.)
(A farm with a few glimpses of one of the massive glaciers looming on the top of most of the mountains in Iceland.)
(On my way back to Seljalandsfoss - note the size of these cliffs. That's a large house/farm at the base of the hill, protected from rock slides by the grove of trees planted above them.)
(Back at Seljalandsfoss. I was fortunate to have a very sunny night, so I ended up staying here for about three hours. Be sure to check out the beginnings of the horrible moustache/beard combo. Later in, it would help me blend in with the rugged locals.)
(Since it was 9:30 pm when I took this picture, no one else was around, so I had the magical place to myself. Check out the rainbow.)
(Walking around behind the 42 meter high falls.)
(Here you can see the damp trail behind the falls. Some books say you can walk behind the falls without even getting wet, but that's just not true. This place is a lie. Pendejos.)
(By this point, I was thoroughly soaked from taking so many pictures in the mist and behind the falls, but I was in awe of this place.)
(Thanks to my tripod and self-timer, I was able to sprint up to the base of the falls just in time for this picture. Immediately thereafter, I had to speed back to my hostel, as they closed their doors at 11, and this was taken at 10:45.)
(A larger view of the 50-100 foot high plate walls on the left, with the spot of the first Parliament in the world in the center. Apparently governments are impressive.)
