January 31st

Day Eight: Iceland l

When I woke up, I tripped out of bed because I was so excited to get a jump on the day. (Which is a nicer way of saying I was very much sleepy and disoriented and actually just tripped because I’m blind and clumsy). I finished my packing, headed to meet the others, and before I knew it, was off to the airport.

On a side note: Taxi drivers are always interesting to talk to. They have the inside scoop on how to see the city, when to see it, and everything you never knew you needed to know in between. But back to Iceland. 

In the air, all I saw was clouds. Clouds and ocean. Endless and infinite. It didn’t look like I was headed anywhere. I honestly panicked for a second thinking that I blew loads of my money flying to a place that didn’t exist. 

It wasn’t until we were a minute from landing that I saw a morsel of Iceland. And then suddenly, all of it. A great big brown and white desolate plain of barrenness. There was a single road that stretched across the ground and that was it. Not a single tree in sight (I later learned that this was because of the vikings who depleted them for their ships, leaving only 3% of Iceland with trees). 

The airport popped up out of nowhere. It was the only thing I could see for what seemed like miles. And to continue our shared dismay, the Icelandic krona was an enigma. Not to mention the exchange rate was subpar.

But we figured out enough of what we needed to pay for a bus ride to our “Bus Hostel” and make our way to town through the nearby park. The snow on the ground reminded me of home. As did the sun. Being the only ounce of warmth I could feel that was coming from my fuzzy socks. But it was great.

The buildings were tall and few and it looked like every place was closed, until we made it closer towards the center of Reykjavik. Thankfully, we stumbled upon an indoor food court. I got talking with a woman behind the counter, and before I knew it knew, she had convinced me to try their artic char, a cross between trout and salmon, on a bed of grilled onions, cappers, olive oil, and mashed potatoes. 

I could not have imagined a better meal. The char was seasoned to the nines making every bite extremely rich in flavor, and watching the fish cooked by handheld torch was the cherry on top. 

Over the moon, we set out to find the coast and take in the city from an ocean perspective. After passing a street that housed a succession of rainbow buildings, admiring mesmerizing street art, and slipping on black ice that had been mistaken as your regular sidewalk, a yellow lighthouse, just beyond the Höfði house (a memorial to the beginning of the end of the Cold War erected in 1986) split the horizon. It broke up the landscape from land, to water, and mountain.

It was breathtaking. On the outer rim of dark water bridged a line of grey and white mountains, making the yellow lighthouse that much more animated. I don’t know if it was due to weather or simply their nature, but the mountains looked as if a haze hung over them, distorting their sharp edges and distinctive features from my already bline eye. It made one question if they were really there at all, or if it were merely a trick of light. 

But it was all the same extraordinary. We sauntered off along the coast. Enjoying the sun as it slowly set in the blue grey sky. Soon the night lights were on. We were stopping in shops, wading down streets, and looking for the Hallgrímskirkja, or the Church of Iceland, without knowing that that was what we were looking for. Granted that the steeple of the church was the only thing illuminating the night sky (apart from the shimmering half moon), it wasn’t hard to find.

The structure was grand, massive, and constructed using what looked like tan concrete. It reached out with every cardinal direction, and upon reflection, I almost wonder if the aerial view would reveal the church to be shaped like a cross. The door that loomed over us was crafted to hold red glass and the wood that lined the entry was intricately molded and shaped with aesthetic patterns. Above the door peered stained glass, in a myriad of color, at least twice the size in comparison. And in front of it all stood a proud statue of Leif Erikson, founder of Reykjavik. 

It was fun to interact with the space. See a keystone of the city and a piece of Icelandic history. Not to mention, our stop at Joylato (my new favorite gelato place, run by a really nice old guy that laughed when I sampled the dark chocolate gelato because of the pure euphoria that came over me) on our way home. Having had done research and learning that gelato was within the top five foods you had to try when in Iceland, it was the perfect conclusion to a wonderfully long day.