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| Westfjords |
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| One of the bridges at Ϸorsmork |
For two months, we tried to make a western US National Parks road trip work, but, as it turned out, the year that the National Parks celebrates 100 years, everyone wanted to go to the same place. Matt and I generally like to go places other people don't like. For example, hiking is great during Steeler games around here.
So, with Yellowstone and Old Faithful in my mind, I searched for geysers worldwide. It turned out that the name "geyser" came from Iceland (pronounced: GAY-seer). Then I found tickets for about $300 round trip per person to Reykavik and back. The destination was nailed down when I then found a camping card that gave us 28 nights of camping throughout Iceland for $100. Without deliberation I called Matt at work.
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| Totally viking |
“I just bought airplane tickets. We’re going to Iceland.”
“Now?” he asked. It was January.
“No, this summer, for a month!”
A reasonable person at this point should have had some worries. You know what "they" say about a good thing - if it's too good to be true.... Well, it turns out, that not many people in their right mind would spend a month camping in Iceland- even in July. The summer days hit 60 at best on a good day and often drop into the 30s (on what they still consider a good day). Over and over, we were told, "If you don't like the weather, wait five minutes." It can go from sun and blue skies, to sideways rain, to snow, and back again before you can get your winter coat out. But, it’s never hot. Then, there's the wind. Let's just say, they don't sell umbrellas in Iceland.
And then there’s the cost of food and of renting a car and the petrol to make it go. Here’s how one should go about estimating these costs: take the amount you’d expect to pay here in the States and multiply it by five.
That’s if you find a deal. If not, make it eight. Or, ten.
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| Jokulsarlon |
Food is somewhat ripe for frugality and the result was a loss of about 25 collective pounds between the four of us. There’s no choice about gas, it just costs a lot in Iceland. So the real way to survive on a budget in Iceland is to rent a cheap car. Of course, you get what you pay for. Our 15-year-old Toyota Rav4 had no gas cap. It was squared-off with dents like a Lego creation and looked like the builder ran out of black blocks and had to instead finish the project with green. All of the following attributes of the car were wildly insufficient for driving on a paved road, much less the gravel “F-roads” that are necessary if you want to find the real gems: tires; suspension; wipers; windows and the motors to open them; gas gauge; door latches. You know, all the things that make driving safe, other than the engine. Cry if you like, because our “Sad” car (a real rental agency) eventually got a flat and then two days later broke down completely. For all we know it’s stull marooned roadside between Gullfoss and Geysir.
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| Secret Lagoon, in Fludir |
Yet the car boldly took on un-guard-railed switchbacks, one way bridges, one way tunnels (miles long, with pullouts carved out of the rock so one can swing out of the way of the car barreling towards you), and one police officer.
Fortunately we were prepared for frugality in one department. We are self-proclaimed "tech-rebels" and traveled the country with a pre-paid flip phone with 90 minutes of usage. Total. It remained off, never needed charging in the entire month, and kept us in the dark for weather forecasts, news, and social media. (Of course it is never actually dark in July in Iceland). We used it once, when the car broke down.
Matt and I have been to a decent number of places in our lives. Between the two of us, we’ve either traveled to or lived in many countries in Europe as well as Israel, Turkey, India, Thailand, Canada, Mexico, the Caribbean, South Africa, and at least forty states. Does “passing through” or layovers count? If so, that list would more than double.
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| The Flat |
The point isn't the number of places, it is the surge of excitement and fear, of uncertainty and awe. It is the experience of putting of oneself purposefully into the position of "other" which hammers American jingoism out of the mind and forces the visitor to learn and respect how many ways there are of living. This is what we want to experience again and again, and what we want to give our children.
Over the years, cities have fallen low on our list and been replaced by natural wonders. In 3.5 weeks of traveling around Iceland, we spent about a half day in the city of Reykavik, home to the majority of Iceland’s population. The remaining 24 days, we spent exploring the wildness.
We drove through lunar landscape that made me almost believe the moon landings could have been faked. We found Hobbiton. We hiked volcanoes, touched glaciers, bathed in hot rivers and counted hundreds of waterfalls. Ate countless gas station breakfasts.
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| Crossing a river in a bus |
Aggressive Arctic terns brought my husband to his knees while our six year old son defended him with his wooden replica Viking sword. Hopping on a monster bus which forded rivers 20 times to reach the idyllic den of Ϸorsmork. Walking at 2 am under a white sky. Skipping the tourist mecca of the Blue Lagoon (affectionately nicknamed by the locals as “The Hot Sperm”) for “The Secret Lagoon.” Hitting dozens of geothermically heated swimming pools, waterslides, and hot tubs around the country, but best of all, discovering the secret naturally heated “pots” known by locals and unlisted in the guides. All you can eat pancakes on bone china inside a 150-year old turf house.
And we learned a smattering of Icelandic along the way. Here we are practicing:
