Check out my video of the Golden Circle tour here!
Fortunately for me, Sigrun had briefly picked up a job as a tour guide when she moved back after grad school. Not only was she willing to drive me all over the place, but she filled me in on the history of her country to a level of detail I am certain I would not be able to match were I showing her around even just the San Francisco Bay Area.
Certainly in San Francisco, one would not be able to see this variety of active geological wonder in so short a timeframe, even without the traffic.
Our first stop on my own personal tour of Iceland was Kerid, the dormant volcano which is now home to a very blue lake. You can hike around the outside, or take stairs down to the edge of the lake – but if you want to fly a drone, you are out of luck.
The vegetation reminds me of the plants at home. They’re very similar, but not exactly what I’m used to.
Except the dandelions. Those are the same.
Since we’d gotten off to a late start (my fault, as always), the next stop on our trip was “the tomato place” for lunch. Fridheimar is a greenhouse complex where the majority of Iceland’s tomatoes are grown. Geothermally heated water is pumped through pipes, keeping the place pleasant (if you’re a tomato) for the whole, unnaturally long growing season.
They also have some really energetic horses.
There are three or four things on the menu, but you’re supposed to get the soup and bread, so we do. We also get a red tomato beer to try, and Sigrun only has one sip, because she’s driving. (Iceland has a zero-tolerance policy on driving while intoxicated.)
Over the best tomato soup of my life (sorry, Mom), Sigrun informed me that everyone Icelandic is related to each other, and they even have a “Book of Iceland” which outlines exactly how everyone is related to everyone else.
“See, the founder of Rekjavik is my 33rd great grandfather,” she began, “and my roommate is both my 8th and 9th cousin…” As my eyes began to cross, she pointed at the waiter behind us. “And that’s my cousin, too.” I turned to look and chuckle at her joke, but he smiled and waved, and Sigrun waved back. She explains he’s her first cousin, and they grew up together.
Ah. Welcome to Iceland.
I didn’t realize we actually have a word in English that comes from Icelandic! The next stop on our trip was Geysir, a now-dormant geyser that lends its name to a park full of geothermally powered spectacles. After a strong earthquake in the early 2000s it would erupt again about once a day, but it has since gone back to sleep.
Totally apart from spending time with my friend, I loved the opportunity to hear Sigrun’s stories of visiting these places as a child. Apparently her little brother, aged five or six at the time of this story, had been waiting all day to see Geysir erupt. Finally, he kicked the side of the opening with his little rubber boot in frustration, and the geyser went off less than two minutes later.
Next up, the waterfall. This is the waterfall that one of Iceland’s first environmentalists threatened to throw herself into if Iceland sold its natural resources abroad. Fortunately she didn’t have to, and Iceland considers her a hero. I can see why – who’d want to give this up?
Our last planned stop was to go swimming at the Secret Lagoon. We thought it would be a pool heated by geothermal energy, but it was not a pool – it was a warm pond fed by hot springs. As an American, I’m used to chlorine not just in our pools, but in our public drinking water – so this was a real treat! Of course, I still overheard an American child saying “I’m getting out, the water feels yucky.” I wonder how she felt about the mandatory nude showering in the women’s locker room.
Someone would definitely pee in this in the U.S., no question.
After a visit to some more horses, we ended up at Sigrun’s family’s house for a traditional Icelandic dinner: lamb, potatoes, and some type of leafy green. Of course, there was ice cream for dessert (which Icelanders apparently enjoy no matter how cold or dark it is.)
Thanks, guys!
