Tag: iceland

The Golden Circle

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. 

Drones – for how long has this been a problem?

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.

It can’t be jet lag; she doesn’t know what time it is.

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?

No leprechauns, I checked. Could still be elves, though.

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.

The water goes straight from the springs into the pool! Amazing!
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!

Yum.

Reykjavik Airport and Tales from Iceland

Iceland smells different. I grew up by the coast so I’m familiar with the scents of land meeting the sea, but this is a little bit exotic; the air seems heavier, with a richer mineral content. 

Iceland’s tourist industry appears to be alive and well. It makes sense to capitalize on their prime location between Europe and North America, and they are really going for it. All the signs in the airport are bilingual, and the bus from the airport will not only take you straight to your hotel (after the 40-minute drive into town), but will happily drop you straight off at any of a number of tourist destinations instead.

The geology and plant life are fascinating, even out the window at 60 kilometers an hour on the bus. The environment contains elements I’ve experienced before, but never in a combination like this. Dense lichen and moss cover an alien landscape of igneous rock mounds that punctuate a prairie of short, soft grasses and dainty purple flowers, with cinder cone volcanoes dominating the skyline. We passed several stands of miniature conifers, which in North America would clearly be a Christmas tree farm. All this within view of the ocean. It’s at once magnificent and confusing, and I love it.

Botany at 40 km/hour

As we get closer to downtown, however, I am less impressed; I didn’t travel all the way here to see Taco Bell, KFC and Domino’s marring the view. Although I know I shouldn’t worry, as this part of the world has iffy food of their own, I have to cringe again when I think of all the other awful U.S. cultural exports that aren’t viewable from the road. (See reality TV or any current political programming for more details.)

After failing to get a pedicure at the Minneapolis airport despite a 6-hour layover, I thought I’d look into getting one done in Iceland. A preliminary search showed several options within walking distance, including three that were open even though I managed to arrive on Icelandic Labor Day. Now, I’m not very experienced in exchanging foreign currency, but I get the idea (not to mention Google can tell you any current exchange rate in real time). The prices listed were so outrageous that I had to ask Sigrun to verify, thinking I’d done it wrong somehow. No such luck, and I wasn’t about to spend $90 on a pedicure. According to Sigrun, “everything in Iceland is expensive.” Borrowed nail clippers for me, please. 

Fortunately, I was able to take the same bus all the way from the airport to “Tales of Iceland,” which is now my Number One Recommended Stop for first-time visitors to the country. The small storefront opens up (abruptly – watch your step) to a rather large room filled with TVs and mismatched couches. Pass the obligatory gift shop on the left to the counter, where you can gain access to a locker (a big plus if you’re coming directly from the airport), as well as catch a glimpse of their local sense of humor.

They are the center of the map, after all.

An interactive love letter to the country, the exhibit consists of sixteen four-minute videos about Iceland, synchronized so that you have 20 seconds to move between videos. On the bottom floor, watch mini-documentaries about the arts, culture and sports of Iceland (did you know that one in 10 Icelanders has published a book? Or that the country has no mosquitoes?), as well as a few little video travelogues in which foreigners document their experience in the country from their unique perspectives. The top floor is full of “Iceland in the News,” each one covering the basics of the country with video footage from the era; topics include volcanic activity, naming conventions, the Cod Wars (s&*k it, Britain), and pop culture (“More than Bjork, Parts 1 and 2”).

Good to know, thanks Coat Room!

In addition to the videos, there are several interactive media opportunities. One is an augmented reality look at Iceland’s thirteen Santa Clauses (none as awful as the Krampus, but still not the jolly fellow of my childhood photo ops). Another is a virtual video experience where you can fly over the country’s breathtaking scenery with a 360 degree view. Finally, there’s a choose-your-own-adventure-background photo booth, where you can pose with a variety of “Viking” props, including a life-sized stuffed sheep on wheels.

Math says it takes just over an hour to complete all the videos, but you can stay as long as you like. Many I found I wanted to watch again, as they were so densely packed with information that I wanted another crack at absorbing it. Thanks to the fascinating content, free WiFi and included snacks and beverages you can take around both floors with you, I happily whiled away close to three hours waiting for Sigrun to return from tour.

It was around the eighth or ninth sheep selfie that Sigrun messaged me to let me know she was home.

Protip: watch your step on the way out, too. Thanks to jet lag (admittedly debatable but I’ll play the card), I tripped in the doorway in both directions.

My boyfriend refers to sleeping as my “superpower,” and once Sigrun and I got settled in and adequately caught up at around 4 pm (sorry, 16:00), I made good use of the rest of the day, and night, and much of the next morning by exercising it.