Iceland

A quick summary of my four days in Iceland: I arrived in Reykjavik early Saturday morning, checked out the youth hostel, and started exploring downtown. It's very walkable, modest and pretty, easy to navigate, and was oddly empty. I later found out that it was a three-day weekend holiday and most Icelanders were at their summer houses, so I shouldn't have been surprised to hear all English, French, and German and see only backpackers. (I fit in well.) I made it to the top of Hallgrimskirja Cathedral (possibly the most stunning of all the quadrillions of churches I've vistited) to get a panoramic view of the city on the harbor. I stopped and listened to an organ concert as I dried off (overall, a very wet and chilly few days, but spirits remained undampened.) By noon I had caffeinated myself and found a public bus to take me about two hours northeast to a town called Reykholt. It's pretty important Icelandically, being the home of medieval historian Snorri Sturlusson. But I soon set off walking toward the town of Skalholt. I was going uphill on a horse trail in the pouring rain and getting a lot of thinking done. By all accounts it should have been miserable, but I was pretty glad to be out there alone in the green fields and random volcanic outcroppings. After innumerable kilometers a car stopped. It was an American, here working for the Naval Reserve (the NATO base here is closing.) We chatted for a while about rootlessness and I got a free ride up to Skalholt. Once there in the cluster of few buildings and a notable church (this was once the cultural center of Iceland), I popped into the church to dry off (again.) Amazingly, I walked right into a Baroque music concert - terribly beautiful and it helped the chill. More amazingly, by the second or third song I realized that I recognized a thick head of hair about five rows in front of me. It was hard to wait until the end of the concert, but I tried to sit still and take in the long northern light shining through the stained glass. When it was over, we all stood up and I walked up to Magnus Bernhardsson, my professor of Middle Eastern history! His sister was performing and nearly half the audience must have been his friends and family. He was obviously stunned but luckily he remembered me from two years ago. I was invited next door for coffee and delicious mini-pancakes while I met everyone and explained over and over again the more-than-odd coincidence. Next up at the church center was a children's concert, during which Magnus's and his friends' kids led us in songs and dances. Icelandic children are all gorgeous, by the way. After that, we all (ten adults, ten kids or so) went back to Magnus's father's house (he was until recently the director of the center) and had dinner, during which I had my first Icelandic hot dog (deservedly famous) and just enjoyed the company enormously. I didn't catch everyone's name, nor how they were all related, but it was a most pleasant evening. I got a ride home to Reykjavik with one of the families during which I finally fell asleep and happily rolled into my hostel bunkbed.

Day two: In true tourist fashion, I took the Golden Circle tour of Kerid crater, Geysir, Gullfoss (a massive waterfall), and Thingvellir (site at the juncture of the North Atlantic plate and European plate where parliament began in 930.) It was striking. exhilarating, beautiful. In the evening I soaked myself in the geothermal swimming pool next to the hostel (there are quite a few in the city.) I had salmon at a nice restaurant, but regretted it when I saw the bill.

Day three: I went north and west to the Snaefellsnes peninsula where the rock formations are improbable (trolls urned to stone), the beaches are black-pebbled, and the glacier, fog-shrouded, looms over everything. It was windy on the coast and truly unspoiled. Well, the only thing that spoiled anything was that I was on the bus with, actually, the dumbest but friendliest tourist alive. After explaining to her not only what was a meter was, but also a kilometer, and NATO, and how to read a map... well, then I had to listen to hours of her stories about being attacked by the arctic tern (a highly-territorial bird 'round these parts.) So I didn't throw myself off the glacier as I wanted to, but rather threw myself with renewed vigor into hiking quickly and away from her. In the evening I bought two hot dogs for dinner (the only afforadable option) and strolled around until the light began to fade (late; 11-ish?)

On my last day, I had a wonderful morning at the National Gallery, which was just about the size museum I can handle. I've got to look up the artists; I really loved just about everything I saw. In the afternoon I moved my stuff over to another hostel nearer the airport and got on a bus to the Blue Lagoon, the famous geothermal spa. The second bizarre coincidence of this post: there were two other guys on the bus, Mike and Kevin, who had just graduated from BC. And Kevin is going to be working at Bain with Colin, and thinks he may have met him. Good stuff. Well, the Blue Lagoon was as good as promised: bright light-blue water amidst volcanic rock, silica mud for making masks, warm water and massaging waterfalls, a sauna, and boiling-hot water spouting out of the earth with steam billowing up, visible for miles. The three of us stayed from about five to nine in the evening, and even then it was hard to leave.

I met lot of awesome people throughout, and next time I'm in Iceland, I'm going to try to make it all the way around the island. I'm also going to come with friends and with more money, so I can try out the nightlife. And I'm going to try to meet up again with Magnus, because that was awesome.