By Request: Iceland

Aren't these puffins adorable? We didn't see any.

“The sky is large and bright, but there is an ominousness; a sense that this is not a place to relax, but to feel energized by the dynamic forces of the mountains and rivers.”

— The Raven’s Nest: An Icelandic Journey Through Light and Darkness by Sarah Thomas 

My friend Nancy noted that I had posted no blogs about Iceland during my recent travels. Being acknowledged even for an absence is an honor. So here goes:

I would pass up any opportunity to move to Iceland. That said, I loved the country and the people. If geology and related sciences are your thing, this is the place to go. The island is ever-changing thanks to the meeting of two tectonic plates—North American and Eurasian—and its position on the Mid-Atlantic Ridge. Active volcanoes, most recently erupting in 2010, make this a geoscientist’s paradise.

‘I didn’t realize you were into this stuff’ you say. You are right. My study of geology was limited to a mandatory college geography class taken by fine arts majors to fulfill the lab science requirement. Once we had a passing grade, we failed to appear in class, thus a pass/fail class. The teacher was no fool: he showed soccer films at the beginning of the lecture but turned them off before the winning score. This was before the internet and YouTube, so if you were interested in the outcome, you had to stay through the class. Land formation films kept us alert as we awaited the abrupt entry of military teams scaling the rocks. These were films used for military training.

Bill Nye the Science Guy floating in a swimming pool with foam boards colliding, describing tectonic plates, sparked an interest that fizzled when Bill climbed out of the pool, until this recent trip. Several of our guides in Iceland were geology students, like PhD types. Their enthusiasm was contagious. But, it takes more than an entertaining scientist or a young, good-looking, enthusiastic guide to get me excited.

First, we went with our good travel buddies from “Chicago”, in quotes because no one lives in Chicago. Pat lives in Michigan, we are in Arizona, and Steffens grew up in Chicago but live in the suburbs where we all met. Our families have been traveling together for at least 35 years and maintain a familial friendship, you know, where you can show up in your PJs for coffee.

Second, this was a Viking Ocean Cruise, our first Viking. Unlike my previous cruise experiences, the ship was quiet and comfortable, tastefully decorated, and the crew hospitable to a fault. We were the average age of the guests, so this was a Boomer cruise. The entertainment was excellent, but I confess that by the end of the week I was ready for music from the 21^st century. Really, though, no complaints about Viking.

Third, and perhaps most importantly for me, the weather was unexpectedly mild. There were many sunny days highlighting the colors of the water, the rocks, the black sand, the landscape of lunar-type mountains. Rarely did we experience wind. The daytime temperatures hovered in the mid-50’s making long sleeves and a heavy sweater enough to stay warm. Long undies kept my legs toasty. A windbreaker was enough to protect me from the light rain one evening.

The mild weather allowed us to walk/hike more than I would have enjoyed in dismal weather. In fact, there were several places that the tour schedule cut us short from exploring as much as I would have liked. I spent much of my time wrapping my head around the fact that we were literally straddling tectonic plates, traipsing over 400 houses buried by a volcanic eruption, walking on black sand deposited by glaciers, and admiring flora carried over from Alaska and Greenland.

During this time, I was reading “The Raven’s Nest” by Sarah Thomas, a British woman who had lived in Iceland several years earlier. We visited many of the places where she lived and worked. Her description of the people demonstrated their attitude toward life: we will handle it. No panic. No angst. The volcano is erupting. Okay, it will work itself out. An earthquake destroyed my house. Okay, it will work itself out. The financial system has collapsed. Okay, it will work itself out.

It was quite refreshing.

Contrasts: Iceland is a land of contrasts. Twenty-four hours of light in the summer means twenty-four hours of darkness in the winter backlit at times by the Northern Lights, the Aurora Borealis. Colorless boulders hide magnificent patterns of stones, crystals, and minerals. Hills covered in dandelions protect awesome lakes of water. Walk across desolate terrain and discover waterfalls feeding springs with water ready to drink. Hot magma underneath heats ready-to-use geo-thermal baths.

Sheep and horses are plentiful; no pigs. Grass is plentiful and the primary agricultural product. Water is plentiful. Tap water is cold and clean and unprocessed. Hot tap water is geo-thermally heated. Dandelions are plentiful but green so not considered a weed. Same with lupine.

Cities are not plentiful. You don’t go to Iceland for an urban experience. Reykjavik has some beautiful sights, notably the Hallgrimskirkja (church) and the Harpa Concert Hall and Conference Centre. The most bizarre: The Phallological Museum where I couldn’t get beyond the gift shop. Entering the WC with its meticulously wood-carved penis-shaped door handle was disturbing. The Bailey’s hot chocolate was restorative.

There are parks and walkways along the Atlantic Ocean and the fjords. The drive of the Golden Circle taking us inland rounded out the coastal cruise nicely and is a must for any visitor.

My tongue tied up trying to repeat Icelandic words. Other than Reykjavik, I couldn’t pronounce any of the town names. Almost all Icelanders speak English, learning it in school from first grade. One young woman confessed that she had little accent because she watched Sabrina the Teenage Witch and, more often, Friends, which she recorded and replayed many times. Icelanders move freely among the Scandinavian countries although the languages vary.

I kept my eyes open for gifts for friends and family. There were two problems: one, Iceland is very expensive, $25 for a bar of soap made from reindeer tallow, which might seem reasonable to the reindeer. Two, other than woolen goods, there was nothing that stood out to illustrate the country, no distinctive art or must-have foods. Puffin toys and gifts were everywhere, but seeing no puffins, I felt it hypocritical to bring home a $45 toy. I was thankful that excursions did not involve hour-long tramps through gift shops. Iceland is not yet shackled by consumerism.

Would I go again? Check the weather and yes, I would love to take my time walking the waterfalls, the volcanoes, the black sand. For anything more than a gentle hike, I live vicariously through my friend Alec, an adventure photographer.

Unfortunately, I left with anxiety of my own, anxiety over the fate of this nation. Corporations are taking over the fishing quotas and destroying the small-town way of life. Aluminum smelting by foreign countries has entered the picture with controversy regarding the environment. Many of the towns now rely on tourism, a poor base for long-term prosperity.

No one seemed worried. It will work itself out.