or there and back again…

Hello again my dedicated readers (Mom, Dad, and Grandparents)! Monika and I successfully conquered the Ring Road of Iceland in a camper van with only a normal amount of confusion and hardships. The Ring Road is the two-lane, paved road that outlines the entire country. Iceland is a seemingly vast, mythical land of the North comparable to Alaska or Siberia. In reality, it is about the size of Kentucky. That’s about where the comparison ends and I don’t even like equating the two in any way. I just want to show that the Ring Road itself is easily conquered, and could be done easily in three days if you skipped all the sightseeing (why would you?). We spent six days on the road, four of those nights we slept in the van, and we made plenty of detours. I knew it then and I still feel it now: it is the best drive I have ever done.

Now, our total trip was 21 days away from home. Only the first week was in Iceland. To stretch the trip out this long, we would have to juggle working remotely along with PTO days (I know, tough life). Our first day there we spent in a hotel near the airport working on our laptops watching the discovery channel. The hotel was in an old converted air force base, and the building clearly used to be a barracks or military housing of some kind. All the buildings around us were made of slab concrete and perfect geometric angles while having some bright color roof and wall paint to cleverly gentrify the neighborhood. So it was a strange first impression of a country, especially given the overcast, gray sky and barren, tree-less landscape surrounding us. It felt like an episode of the Twilight Zone.

Day One

The following day was Saturday, and I went to pick up the van in the morning. More accurately, I was picked up by the camper van company and driven to their office. The driver was an enormous, friendly man who rambled on about ridiculous gas prices and other things I couldn’t understand through the accent. At the office, they had phones ringing off the hook and people furiously typing trying to get customers their vehicles. When it was my time, the man was in no less of a hurry when showing all the bells and whistles of the van. The van was small. Smaller than I expected. It was cosmetically in rough shape. The man marked on his paper all the various scratches and dents to be reviewed upon the return. He showed me the small gas grill and how to work it, the “mini fridge” (was just a cooler with a fan built in), the battery heater, curtains, sleeping bags, table, chairs, water jug, where to find these things as well as how to fold out the bed and operate the van in about three minutes. I was jet-lagged and trying hard to focus, but I stopped him when he said I could fill up the water jug at any of the rivers. I said, “What do you mean any of the rivers? Is there a filter that comes with it?” He said, “No, no filter. All water in Iceland is clean and good to drink.” I said okay, he gave me the keys, and I went to pick up Monika and the luggage.

The first stop was for breakfast, and one major flaw of foreign countries is they don’t have drive-through egg mcmuffins on every corner. Monika and I are both breakfast people, and we are both cranky without it. Starving and delirious, we stumbled into a café serving only coffee and croissants. The menu was all in Icelandic and I made Monika order. That didn’t cut it, so we then found a place that served us a proper American sized brunch with eggs, hash browns, sausage, etc. It was wonderful. We would focus on adjusting to the culture later. Next on the agenda was groceries for the week. We found a good supermarket and got some eggs, hot dogs, rice, pasta, and protein bars to cut our costs on the road. In the parking lot we witnessed a scene that made me feel a little less homesick. Someone had gotten out of there car to go into a different store and their car was blocking the whole road creating a long line of cars behind them. So the guy behind him leans on his horn for a full two minutes. Does not take his hand off the horn until the other guy comes out of the store. Then they yell at each other for another minute or two. It’s comforting to know assholes in traffic are somewhat universal.

Now my first impressions of driving and shopping on the outskirts of Reykjavik (the capital city) were that is seemed like most other cities. The roads were good, people drove normally, the signs were fairly easy to understand, and the buildings were mostly modern. Even in stores and restaurants a lot of things could be found in English and everyone we encountered in the country spoke English. So far so good. The first true obstacle was the gas station. The pump had a sticker on it that said “Pay Inside”. So I went in and told them I was at pump number five. I gave them my card and it charged me what looked like twenty bucks, but I was still working on the USD to Krona conversions. I thought it was weird, but figured maybe it was a down payment and didn’t question it, given it was my first time here. So I went back out to pump the gas and it wasn’t working, so I returned to ask for help. Turns out I paid for whoever filled up their tank before me at that pump. They said go fill up and come back in after and they will give me a refund. So I went to fill up, saw an option this time to pay with my card at the pump, so I did. A third time I returned to the cashier only to find out I wasn’t supposed to pay at the pump, but pay inside to get my refund. So she had to do some work-around to give me a cash refund instead. If you followed all that, then congrats because I did not when it happened to me.

Throughout the journey I figured out the problem with Icelandic gas pumps. When you want to pay inside, you go and tell them which pump you’re at, they activate it for you without you having to pay. Then you fill up the tank, and finally return inside to pay for whatever you filled up. So basically you can fill up the tank and take off if you want, and I think that is how I paid for someone else’s gas. I tell this confusing story because there were several instances of Iceland just being a very trusting country. They don’t seemed to be worried about being scammed or robbed in most places and it was kind of refreshing. Almost everyone we encountered were smiling and friendly and helpful. The locals haven’t been burned out from the tourism yet.

Finally, we had gas and supplies. It was time to hit the road. The first day of driving was eventful, we had a lot to see along the southern coast. For a while, the terrain is mostly farmland. Actually, most of Iceland is either farmland or too extreme to be inhabited. Primarily Icelandic horses (just smaller horses that can handle cold weather), sheep, and cattle. Passing by the small towns and gas stations pit stops, it had a Midwest road trip feel.

After an hour or two on the road we saw in the distance a looming plateau with a great waterfall cascading off of it that could be seen from miles away. This was out first stop at the famous Seljalandfoss waterfall (it’s a household name of course). It was an incredible spot for pictures. There was a small, slippery path that looped underneath the waterfall, so you could photograph it from all angles. One angle in particular refracted a rainbow in the mist. Throw in blue skies behind the towering cliff overhang and you have a terrific, photoshopped-looking picture. Here Monika claims, was the best location she has ever eaten cold pancakes for lunch. Sounds like a baseball stat.

Not too far down the road was our second most famous waterfall depending on who you ask. Now of course we all know the name: Skogafoss. These falls dwarfed the first one, while still being plenty photogenic. This massive cascade of water fell under the shadow of a lone mountain and fed a gentle river winding through the grazing fields and farms. The waterfall had carved through the cliff over – however many years a geologist says it would take – to the point that there was a short canyon with towering walls leading up to the water. The terrain is so imposing and impressive. One of the information signs said that there is rumored to be a gold chest hidden behind the falls. We didn’t get the chance to retrieve it, maybe next time. To the right of the falls was a hike that went to the top and the hills beyond. The view from the top was equally good.

As we drove on, the same, enormous plateau followed us along our left-hand side with the ocean on our right. We saw dozens, if not hundreds of waterfalls on the journey. To our left and out of our sight was a raised glacier on top of this plateau that fed all of these waterfalls. Apparently, it is the second largest glacier in Europe at 3,100 square miles and an average thickness of 1,250 feet. Wikipedia is also telling me that there are volcanoes underneath the glacier. That doesn’t even make sense to me and the magnitude of it all is mind-boggling. But it deserves recognition for the surreal landscape it created on the southern coast. It seemed like every other farm had its own waterfall. Even the massive Skogafoss had farms underneath it with ranchers and sheep just going about their day. Are these family farms passed down through generations? Can people just buy any plot of land and they will throw in a waterfall with it? Do these people know how unflattering every other farm in the world looks by comparison and how lucky they have it? These were the questions I pondered on the drive that Monika was unable to answer for me.

On this first day of the drive, the largest town we would pass through is Vik (finally a lay-up Iceland name and I’m still not 100% sure how to pronounce it). The road into town was through a small mountain pass. The peaks were jagged and a single, dark cloud hung over them. I was worried we were actually passing into Mordor, and Led Zeppelin coming on in the playlist only fueled this fear. On the other side of the pass, the town sprawled out before us. Vik is the most humble-breathtaking town I had ever seen. The buildings were all small, none were noteworthy or very nice. There were just two restaurants, a gas station, and an almost trailer park level neighborhood. But all of this was wrapped in a valley of the ominous, Mordor-esque peaks against a black sand beach and the Northern Atlantic. One sole church stood on a hill higher than any building and I swear there was a single beam of light on it from the sky.

However this stop was only for dinner and a stroll on the beach before we were off again. Have I mentioned how expensive food is in Iceland? Either way I’ll probably mention it a few more times. Like $25 per person! No drinks, no tip, cheapest menu option. I guess that’s what happens when you have to ship in everything you eat. Anyway, the food was good and the view of the ocean by the window was better.

It was probably around 7 or 8pm at his point and I had a nagging sense of urgency to get on the road. I wanted to make to the campsite before sundown. I would come to learn that daylight was never really an issue. It never got fully dark while we were there. There was at least some light past 11pm. This gave us plenty of time on the road and we tried to make the most of it. We still had at least another hour until we reached our first campsite. The road grew longer into the horizon as the mountains receded back into the island. We encountered a long flat stretch of earth with few turns. This impossibly desolate area was more than just a barren desert. Deserts have tumbleweeds, lizards, and cacti. This was like the surface of the moon. They literally might have faked the moon landing here. Gray rocks and somehow grayer soil stretched to the horizon, with only the distant mountains reminding us which planet we were on.

After a while, the mountains and ocean grew close again, and we found our campsite. We no longer had the bright, brilliant mid day to illuminate the landscape, but the globe tilted enough for us to appreciate our surroundings. The campsite was essentially a base camp for two large glaciers cleaving either side of a mountain. The snow capped range beyond was absolutely stunning. The contrast of the pancake flat land with the towering mountains rising directly out of it adds to the immensity. We have glaciers to thank for this unique feeling given to us in areas of the distant North. Most of what we drove and stood on, at one time, was under 1,000 feet of ice.

It wasn’t long before our attention turned to our accommodations for the first night. It was not a luxurious stay, nor spacious. Now began the process of unpacking the bags and chairs and table to fold down the bed and hang the curtains and repack everything in a different way before squeezing into our low-clearance abode. We may have unpacked and repacked differently every time. The two front seats had to be move and folded forward for the bed to fully lay out. The curtains were just rags with magnets in them to try and stick to each window. Half of them were missing magnets. There was a small amount of space under the bed to store things. Our suitcases fit barely at the end of the bed, upright by the back door. The battery heater in the car only had two settings: “surface of the sun” and “body heat”. It was paradise.

Day Two

Unconcerned about limited daylight, we set no alarms. Motivating to leave the car on a chilly morning was a mental obstacle anyone who has been camping has faced. Of course desires such as hunger and crippling claustrophobia took over, so I started to prepare breakfast and unpack the van. We had a folding table, some folding chairs, a little portable stove, and some pots and pans for our meals. Monika had some strange illness most of the trip where she was unable to make breakfast in the mornings, but I was happy to care for her. The sun was bright, the sky was blue, a crisp breeze wafted the refreshing Icelandic air into my lungs. The mountains looked even more majestic today, I couldn’t help but smile while stirring the yolks.

There was a public restroom to freshen up and a visitor center where we paid our fee retroactively (could have probably just left?). Before leaving we walked along a trial, beginning near camp, to the bottom of the glacier. It was a lovely day for a walk. There isn’t much wildlife to speak of so far. Mostly birds and farm animals. I think that adds to the other-worldly feel of the island. No more than 20-30 minutes before the towering sheet of ice stood in front of us. A pond (or lagoon?) sat at the base of the ice wall and around it was more moon rocks. I took a small sip from the lagoon (or pond?) water. Not bad. Monika and I stood alone with the rocks and the ice. No blade of grass found its way within 500 yards of the lagoon. Just two solitary life forms in a beautiful wasteland.

Once again it was time to hit the road. Oh how I enjoyed this road. Peaceful as a dream and spectacular beyond belief. The road was blanketed by twisted, jagged peaks carved by glaciers and the howling winds of time. Then of course, always on our right, was the stoic Atlantic ocean as the backdrop. We continued to see horse farms up against these mountains and cliffs and still many had their own waterfalls. As we wove along the coast the glaciers grew larger and larger. At one point I looked in the rearview only to see one entire glacier take up the entire mirror. It was as if the sheet of ice was hurtling towards us and tearing up the horizon on its way.

I told Monika I had to pull over so we could drink it all in. Off the side of the road I climbed a small hill just to be thrown into a National Geographic magazine. It was perhaps the best 360 degree view I had ever seen. Before me was colossal glacier, easily a mile wide. I had to turn my head to see it end to end and the top of it stretched mysteriously into the clouds. Beneath it was a lake filled with icebergs of all sizes. Monika spotted a seal near the shore. On either size of this glacier was more mountains and more glaciers. And not even 200 yards behind me was the ocean. As it turns out this was not an accident we stumbled upon this, this was the famous Glacier Lagoon. The Ring Road goes right over it on a bridge up ahead.

I picked my jaw up off the floor and continued driving a quarter mile where we reached the bridge and a parking lot. The lagoon funneled down to a short river where the bridge crossed. Along the river was a shallow beach where chunks of icebergs would wash up on the shore. This was known as Diamond Beach. I have never seen anything like it, walking amongst shards of ice nearly as tall as we are. It was like walking in an art exhibit of ice sculptures. It was one of our favorite parts of the trip.

The drive continued to be great, more of everything I have already described. Our next stop was a little coastal town named Hofn. We ate pretty good reindeer burgers and drove to the coastline for the view, but otherwise not much to say about it. Just a quiet little seaside town. Past Hofn we reached the fjords. I have already raved about the drive, but this was the best part. Each fjord had its own little mountain range that jutted out like fingers into the ocean. Here the road was truly sandwiched between mountains and sea. No flat terrain whatsoever. We encountered many one-lane bridges and small fishing villages. It took us a long time to travel a short distance because the road followed the outline of each fjord, like tracing your hand while drawing a Thanksgiving turkey.

We also drove by a few small huts with nothing nearby them, just alone in an open field. Finally I pulled off the road to check one out. The hut was strangely small and isolated and overgrown with grass. It was hard to tell how old it was. I was afraid that a blind mystic lived in there and would tell me how I would die. Or at least a witch or troll of some kind. More likely is was just a storage shed on someone’s land. But even then it would be an inconvenient shed to get to so it must have some historical or spiritual significance. Either way I was too afraid to look inside or try the door.

I’m not sure what superlatives I have left to describe what I saw because it was just shockingly beautiful. The drive was mesmerizing and I recommend that anyone visiting Iceland try to make it out there. After a few hours of weaving along the coast we hit a tunnel that took us straight North. This tunnel was at least 20 minutes long. It must have gone through ten mountains. It makes Eisenhower tunnel look small and weak. Past the tunnel we had finally left the coast and soon arrived at Egilsstadir. We just called it Egg town.

Egg town was a bit bigger than the coastal town we had past. It was tucked away in the hills and had its own airport and suburbs (both very small). The campsite was right in town, little more than a parking lot. I think the town made the camp ground to stop travelers from parking on the streets. With daylight to burn, we stopped by the one brewery in town for a beer. Some locals were playing beer pong. I suppressed the urge to call next game or correct them on rules. The bartender gave me a free beer because the keg ran out. Nice place. We stopped in one more bar that was a part of a hostel that was a part of our campsite. They were closing in 20 minutes and the place was empty. The hostel was mostly empty and our campsite/parking lot was mostly empty. Not many people made over to that side of Iceland at that time of year.

That evening we cooked hot dogs over the camping stove and it was [expletive] cold. I think it was only 10 or 20 degrees Fahrenheit but the humidity and wind just made it an icy hell outside. I held the hotdogs with my bare fingers directly over the pathetic flame on the grill and I couldn’t even get them up to room temperature. I didn’t bring gloves, but I was wearing every jacket I brought. At least four layers, I looked like a sad Michelin man. I hadn’t been that cold in a long, long time. Swearing and cursing while scarfing down mediocre hot dogs, I told myself that I enjoy doing this. In fact I paid to be here. Monika was probably a little worried about spending more days on the road with me. On the plus side, our aggressive heater was welcomed that night.

Day Three

I feared the bitter cold when I opened my eyes that morning, but packing the car and cooking eggs was not as bad as the previous night. We stopped at a little coffee shop for some “take-away” cups. Not sure if I already mentioned that entering each town and leaving each town had a sign with a little silhouetted skyline and then a skyline with a red ‘X’ through it signifying if we were entering or leaving a settlement. We drove past our “leaving civilization” sign with our fully loaded van into the great beyond.

For a few hours we followed a winding river through the barren highlands. Now we were far away from the coast. Some parts were truly just the road and frosty plains stretching out forever in every direction. This leg of the journey didn’t have the postcard beauty of the first two days, but vast emptiness imprints a different, humbling feeling. There was not much else to tell. No wildlife besides some birds. No trees or plants besides some grass and moss. We did stop at an old sheep hut. Made of logs and thatched-grass or dirt roof. A lot of the old structures here seemed to be made in a similar style.

On the horizon I saw a pillar of smoke rising. I thought it was strange, because there is hardly anything to burn down here. When we got a little closer I realized it was steam, and I saw a few more plumes. Finally we were within eyesight of the source and saw it was coming out of the ground. Various cracks and holes in the hills had steam erupting in a steady flow. Some looked like a tea kettle and some like a nuclear power plant. Over the hill we found actual geothermal power plants harnessing the volcanic activity into electricity. The majority of Iceland is powered this way.

I thought it was all so fascinating. I had never seen anything like it. Following the pockets of steam led us to the Myvatn hot springs. This was a mini spa/resort building around the natural hot springs. We arrived just before opening, embracing the chilly air before submerging in Earth’s hot tub. I could tell it was natural because the smell of sulfur was almost overwhelming. Otherwise the steamy water felt amazing. The pools were shielded by a rock wall on one side and a cliff on the other side. The cliff overlooked Lake Myvatn and the landscape beyond. Also, this counted as my first shower since being on the road.

Another hour on the road and through one more long tunnel before we arrived at Akureyi. The tunnel spit us out on the side of a mountain overlooking the bay and city. Akureyi is the second largest city in Iceland, and it felt bigger than all the towns we had passed to that point. However, large for Iceland is small for anywhere else. With 18,000 people, population-wise it is only slightly larger than Steamboat Springs, Colorado or Winfield, Kansas. But compared to the fishing villages it was a metropolis.

One fun thing we noticed up here was that the traffic lights used hearts and smiley faces. We thought it was a nice touch.

We drove across the bridge and into town and found our hotel at practically the first turn. Monika was working remotely today, and given the time difference she was able to start at 1:00pm Iceland time. This allowed us to drive in the morning. The hotel was small an old and artsy. The room was tiny but well decorated and felt more cozy than cramped. There was a desk at the end of the bed that also had a sink take up half of it. There was no room for the sink in the bathroom, which was just a narrow shower and the toilet. So Monika worked on the side of the desk without the sink while I walked around town with the day off.

The hotel was the bookend on a street that appeared to be downtown. This street resembled Pearl Street in Boulder, or really any walkable street in a downtown area of a city. Cobblestone streets meant for pedestrians. Colorful buildings with nice cafes and restaurants. Some gift shops and an ice cream store. It was only three blocks long, and there wasn’t more than two or three building over three stories high in the whole city. So like I said, small, but still a city. There was a dock where a cruise liner was picking people up for the day. There was a movie theater. There was more than one bar. Felt like a normal town.

I saw basically all there is to see because I had nothing to do but walk all day. I had a beer on the top floor of the tallest building (fifth floor). I had another beer in a pub and watched the Manchester United game with some football (soccer) fans. I checked out a gift shop and was kicked out due to them closing. Eventually I got a table for Monika and I for dinner and told her to meet me there once she was done with work. I miss timed it a little, the waitress came back to check on me at least three times before Monika got there. I think she thought my date stood me up, and I was starting to worry myself. At that restaurant I ate some Cajon salmon that was the best meal I had the entire three weeks I was gone. Maybe the best meal of the year.

Day Four

In the morning we woke up to a winter wonderland. An early May snowfall had dusted the ground but continued to fall heavily. We ate at a breakfast joint named “Sko” (Sko Buffs). Then we hit the road once again, but this time veered North. Away from the safety of the Ring Road. I had been obsessed with Iceland for almost a year leading up to this trip. I researched dozens of spots to stop at and what to expect on the road. I don’t always plan that much before a trip, I like to be surprised. When I went to Costa Rica for a month I hardly knew anything about the town I was staying in much less the country. For some reason I was really drawn to Iceland. The photos of landscapes were like nothing I’d ever seen. And to this point it was everything I could have imagined.

So some photo from some blog with better Google optimization than this blog lead us further North off the Ring Road. The fog and snow obscured our views, but it was more authentic this way. We stopped for coffee in a tiny village and the coffee shop was the best I’ve ever seen. Decorated with old pioneer tools and rusty machines from 150 years ago, it seemed a perfect spot to sit and write a novel. Or even an internet blog. The man working there was a kind soul and the coffee was rich and delicious on the cold, snowy day but we were soon off again. We drove along the coast and drove through one town and more tunnels, some of them one lane only with spots to pull off. Eventually we were so far North that it was the furthest North either of us had ever been on planet Earth. This includes Denali, Alaska, where we had been only 9 months prior.

We continued on our path in a horseshoe shape around this small peninsula for a few hours. Now you may recall that the man who gave us the rental car told me that we could drink water from any river in Iceland. To this point I had been pointing out rivers to stop at but the road had no shoulder to pull off at most of the time. Finally we found an open area and I told Monika this is the one. We stopped and I got my two aluminum mugs and we marched down the water. There is a good video of me drinking it, and really it tasted fine. I drank the whole mug and then filled my water bottle with it. Half an hour later my stomach began to cramp. I never got sick, and maybe it was all in my head, but it was enough for me to replace the water we had gotten in the next town. It was at that point I remembered seeing a few horse farms upstream and began to question my decision.

On the downturn heading South again we passed through another village, Hofsos, no more than 500 people. We bought chocolate, replaced the tainted water, and acquired some other supplies in a gas station. Five minutes outside the village was the oldest church in Iceland. The structure dates back to the 1600s. It stood completely alone in an open field shrouded in mist. It is made of only wood and an earthen roof. Surrounding it is a low stone wall also overgrown with grass. The door to the inside was locked, but it was no larger than a living room on the inside. Like many things we have seen, it felt eerie and mystical. Like the Icelandic Gods worshipped there were watching over it. We ate our sandwiches for the day here.

Actually there is a good chance the Christian God was worshipped there. We learned later on that Irish monks were the first to arrive on the island, followed shortly by Norwegians. Instead of starting another crusade against each other, they worked out some kind of hybrid religion that made everyone happy. After all, people who willingly brave the North Atlantic to find a land of complete isolation probably aren’t the violent type. It is always interesting to see humanity’s drive towards freedom, danger, and the unknown in all cultures and throughout all times in history. Rejecting societal comforts. I often have this desire until I sleep outside for more than two days. I mean, amenities have gotten a LOT better in the last 100 years. I might be too soft to be an explorer.

Some other notes I jotted down for the day was that I had ran out of music to play. I was running out of ideas at that point and a podcast would probably ruin the vibe. I resorted to Icelandic war chant at one point. I also noted that it snowed pretty much all day. It was mostly dense fog and wet flakes, nothing we couldn’t handle. Until we couldn’t, of course. Suddenly a snow storm was upon us. Like, real blizzard, one or two feet of snow on the road. A quote from me in the journal the day it happened, “White-knuckled our dinky, bald tire van for at least half an hour.” It really was probably only half an hour but felt like half the day. Then as quickly as it arrived, the storm vanished and the road was spotless. The weather forecast discouraged us from our original plan to head to the far Northwest point of the island. And that storm shook any confidence I had in the van getting caught in another storm.

We found ourselves in green rolling hills and even spotted a few trees today. In my journal I reiterated how “impressed and amazed I was at the scale and variety of terrain”. We saw fields of black rocks covered in moss and lichen. It looked like the world’s largest rockslide from the world’s tallest mountain happened a thousand years ago. The roaring winds reduced the mountain to a fathomable size, but the black boulders remained only to be overtaken by a persistent green mush. Monika pointed out that almost all the barn and farmhouse roofs were the same shade of red. Must be a tradition. We wove through the valleys following the rivers that paved the path under the looming peaks for a little while longer, thankful for peaceful weather.

To end the day we arrived in the town of Borganese, only an hour or two away from Reykjavik with two days to spare. Our campsite in town was on the edge of a beautiful, sunsetting lake. Behind us was a towering mountain range that would rival the Swiss Alps. Too tired and stressed to make food, we went to the only restaurant open: an American diner. Here we had a beer and big juicy sandwiches enjoying the mountain view. The town was a glorified truck stop. The diner was in a large parking lot with tall gas station pumps for semi-trucks stopping through. There were a few neighborhood streets but nothing much else to speak of, which was almost funny considering how gorgeous of an area it was located in. The winters must be absolutely brutal because I can’t believe more people don’t live here. This was my thought in most towns we visited.

Day Five

Today took us on a loop through the Snaefellsnes peninsula (there will be quiz on these names at the end). This stretch of land is right above Reykjavik, and some consider it to be mini-Iceland. Or at least a taste of everything Iceland has to offer in one day’s drive. A few films and TV shows were filmed along where we would drive, most notably Game of Thrones. Only this day did we look into movies and shows filmed in Iceland and the list is extensive. Batman, James Bond, Interstellar, Fast and Furious, Oblivion, Prometheus, Star Trek, Star Wars, a variety of horror movies, a variety of war movies, the list is long. And it makes perfect sense. The scenery is unlike any in the world. It feels like another planet making it perfect for sci fi movies.

We made our eggs and packed up the van. While doing so, a an leaving the campsite asked us if the van was ours. I said no we rented, but I could understand how she would think that. Turns out she was from Colorado Springs. I seem to run into Colorado people everywhere I go in the world. Have I never had one original thought or idea?

Today was overcast but the weather held up. The road we followed was positioned between the frosty snow caps on our right, on a long, smooth slope down into the ocean on our left. Much of the drive was through this wide valley making the landscape feel epic and endless. There were about a dozen stops for the day that were right off the main road. Some were craters of dormant volcanos, one was a beach with a whale skeleton washed up, some churches and towns and mountains and waterfalls. Just quick hits of breathtaking sights.

In the morning on this drive, long after we had run out of conversation topics and the music had devolved to repeats, we found ourselves on a very peaceful road. Neither of us had talked in a while, just silently drinking in the new surroundings. Suddenly there was a deafening *THUNK* *THUNK* hit the car. Monika was driving and she jumped out of her seat. The sounds snapped my head to the left just in time to see a HUGE bird falling off the side window. I looked in the rearview to see two geese in the road behind us. I’d like to say they made it… but they didn’t look good. They looked to be about the size of Canadian geese, but whatever the Icelandic version is.

We pulled over at the next stop to inspect the van. There was certainly a dent on the side of the hood above the wheel and the frame of the driver window was scuffed up with some blood stained. One of the birds was about six inches from crashing through the window into Monika’s lap. Then I really started to think about it. Two birds?? Hit the side of the car? That means they were flying side by side about four feet off the ground, saw the car from probably a quarter mile away, then just.. kept on flying. Into our vehicle. Making it our problem. If they were walking across the road then okay, that’s our fault. Nope, flew straight into us. Very bizarre, and hopefully not expensive. Monika was pretty shaken up for whatever reason but we continued on our path.

One stop was at a narrow gorge cleaved through the mountain. It overlooked perhaps the best view of the entire trip: sun peaking through the clouds to illuminate a massive, one-sided valley filled with humble farms sloping down to the sparkling ocean. Through the fields and into the distance we saw the road that brought us here and all the distance we had travelled. The gorge was nearly a cave with a small sliver of sunlight running along the top. Through it ran a small stream, fed by every inch of the walls trickling down drops of glacier melt. I felt along the wet, mossy walls as I waded through the stream and gazed up in wonder at the misty rainbow refractions that surrounded me. I could have spent the rest of the day going deeper and deeper into the cavern, but the road called us back once again. Always on the move.

For lunch we stopped in what was barely a town called Arnarstapi. We stumbled upon a restaurant not found on Google maps built by white stucco walls and faded lettering. Here was the most authentic Icelandic food we had the entire trip. I had two bowls of meat stew and Monika has some kind of fish mash. A large Icelandic woman with big forearms and a warm demeanor served us and didn’t charge me for the second bowl. It was outstanding.

Next we stopped at some sea cliffs overlooking a sinister rock spire. The walls were jagged and steep, and were home to thousands of birds. The birds even drowned out the roar of the ocean. No puffins were spotted unfortunately. Due to the number of hours in a day we had to skip out on another cave and another crater and several other stops. There is too much to see. At the tip of the peninsula is a town known for its art and murals on the walls of many buildings. Also we noticed an enormous radio tower that I later learned is one of the tallest structures in all of Europe.

Finally bending around the end and heading back on the other side, Monika spotted a cool looking mountain up ahead. It stood alone from the others on the edge of the water. It was narrow, long, and sharp on top like a razor’s edge. We agreed to stop there. As it turns out it is the most famous mountain in the entire country and has an established parking lot to view from. Monika has an eye for incredibly eye-catching landmarks. It was stunning and very photogenic. A small river leading to a modest waterfall makes the foreground of the picture with the magnificent mountain, Kirkjufell, as the background. It was a beautiful sadness that came over me because it was our last sight to see for the day, and the last natural landmark of the trip. We only had time to head back to our next campground and tomorrow we would be in Reykjavik. Couldn’t have ended on a better stop.

The rest of the day we wove back through more coastal villages and snowy mountains to arrive at Akranes, a town less than an hour outside of the capital. This campsite was on the edge of the coast overlooking the water. I concede I could have cooked more than I did on the road, having money has made me less adventurous. Instead of boiling water on our lovely stove to cook plain pasta, we went into town and had sushi at a fancy restaurant. Smelly, greasy hair, muddy clothes and all. Seemingly it was the only restaurant open in town (every town has one restaurant open, what do people do during the year?). Tonight was the last night in the van. One more time to completely unpack and repack it. One more night being cooked like an empanada. Some civilization tomorrow would help.

Day Six

Our last day wasn’t really a full day on the road, most of the day was spent exploring Reykjavik. We packed the van for the last time and set off for the big city. And it really felt big. Multi lane highways and apartment buildings and traffic. We navigated to the heart of the city to park and walk around. I had to parallel park that stupid van in a spot meant for European Fiats and I thought I was finally going to lose my mind. It took a comically long time and I was so sick of driving the thing I thought I might actually throw up from disgust. Eventually I did wedge it in there and it gave Monika plenty of laughs.

We ate at a gastropub on a corner nearby. We each ordered fish, while everyone else in the pub got cheeseburgers and fries. The fish tacos were Monika’s favorite meal on the whole trip. We continued on up the main pedestrian street filled with gift shops and cafes and bars. Murals, statues, and other expressions of art were abundantly found. Posters for local metal bands. The cobblestone road was painted rainbow leading uphill to a big church. The whole town felt festive ad fun.

Also not sure what’s going on with the tiger outfits.

In front of the big church was a bronze statue of Leif Erikson, the Iceland-born Viking who was the first European to set foot in North America. In the church was an elevator to a viewing platform of the tall spire. Here was the best and most complete view of the city, but it was all open air and the winds whipped through violently. Here was where we learned about the first settlers being Irish and befriending the Norse settlers who found the island shortly after.

Rain began to pour as we left the church so we hurried into the Loki cafe across the street. We ordered food and maybe a coffee or beer (really depends on the time of day). The wall behind Monika had a fantastic mural depicting scenes from Norse mythology. It was graphic and brutal and totally captivating. It’s possible Monika thought I was staring intensely at her I’m unsure. At the table next to us, someone ordered the “shark shot”. Listening closer we determined it was indeed made from real shark, so we had to try. They gave us a plastic cup full of spongey, gray cubes with tooth picks and a shot of schnapps. The instructions were to eat the shark meat first then follow with the shot. I went first as Monika mulled it over, and I had to give my best poker face otherwise I knew she wouldn’t try it. It was chewy and fishy unlike any fish I had before. The shark meat was fermented and gave me whiffs of formaldehyde. Not great. Monika hated it.

We spent some more time exploring the town. All the store fronts and restaurants were very inviting. They all made me want to stop in to look around and I normally hate shopping. On our good friend’s advice we went to a hot dog stand where he said he had the “best hot dog ever”. The hot dog tasted store bought with three different sauces drizzled on it. That being said, it wasn’t too bad.

That night we had booked a room back at our authoritarian hotel near the airport that we stayed the very first night. Our flight the next day was at six in the morning. So with more driving to do and time running out we decided to have one more drink before saying our goodbyes. Our choices were “American Bar”, “English Pub”, “Jungle Bar” (?), a cool Icelandic bar with authentic food and drinks and actual locals, or “The Drunk Rabbit Irish Pub”. The Icelandic bar wasn’t really a bar at all as it turned out so we went to the Drunk Rabbit. Despite the fact we would be in Ireland literally tomorrow.

However the vibe was immaculate. The music blared around us in a cramped, rose wood room filled with posters and decorations. Behind the bar was a big wheel where you could pay the bartender to spin it and you could win free drinks. Everyone cheered and roared as it spun. The bartender was charismatic and insisted I did not have to tip him and I insisted that I wanted to. It was a terrific cap to the journey and an even better send-off into the next adventure.

Most places I visit I go with the mindset that I will never return. It helps me enjoy it and live in the moment, but I really believe it. There is too much world to see to tread where I have already walked before. Iceland can fall under the few exceptions to this rule. Despite nearly a week of rubber to pavement crisscrossing the island, I feel there is so much more to see. An alien land of magical proportions, few places will make you feel farther from home in the best way.