Our flight
from JFK finally took off at 12:30 AM eastern time after a one hour delay.
Unsurprisingly nobody thought a $200 travel voucher was a fair deal to delay
their flight to MOTHERFUCKING EUROPE because the airline was too incompetent to
sell the correct number of tickets. Finally shortly after 10 AM local time we
landed in grey, overcast Iceland for our dream vacation. After a series of
unfortunate events we got separated in the airport and I ended up processing
through customs without Perry. When he made it out about an hour later he
explained that by the time he made it to customs there was nobody there so he
had to hunt down an airport employee and eventually got processed through in
the customs office instead of at the normal booths, but he found $5 in a
bathroom stall so it all worked out.
After a 45
minute cab ride into the city, we dropped our luggage off at the hostel and
headed into the city. This is where you’d expect something interesting to
happen, but I literally just bought a hot dog with the special Icelandic
mustard and a Coca-Cola Light (what they call Diet Coke) and we killed some
time before we could check into the hostel and take a nap. Eventually we were
able to check in and get that nap, but Perry slept longer than me so I listened
to some homeless British kids play music in the lobby. Eventually we would
start our first night in the city at the hostel bar where we first met an
Icelander named either Tony or Cody or something like that whose dream vacation
is to visit a Walmart in the American Deep South and people watch. We then held
the NAFTA 2014 summit with a Mexican couple that I would guess is in their
mid-30s and a Canadian ice road trucker. The Mexican woman was quite distressed
to learn that we’d be spending nine days in the Icelandic wilderness without a
plan. There is a very real chance that she’s still worried about our wellbeing
to this day.
Finally, at
something like 11 pm it was time to head out for our day on the town, or night
on the town, or whatever it was. Either way it was about 2 hours before the
locals even thought about heading to the bars. Of course, despite the wide
variety of bars in Reykjavik, we didn’t really have a choice. The only bar for
us was Lebowski Bar. That is exactly what you think it is: AN ENTIRE BAR IN
ICELAND DEVOTED TO THE BIG LEBOWSKI. It’s pretty mind blowing.
Unfortunately
we were partied out by about 2:30 AM and while most locals were walking the
other way toward the bar, we were walking back to the hostel for our first
night of sleep in broad daylight. The Dude would have been disappointed in us.
Day 2: That’s a Penis
Day 2
started solidly at 7 AM with the antics of the You’re-gonna-miss-your-flight
kid. It went something like this:
“Nico,
you’re gonna miss your flight.”
“What?”
“It’s 7 AM,
you’re gonna miss your flight.”
“What?”
“NICO, It’s
7 AM, you’re gonna miss your flight.”
“What?”
“You’re
gonna miss your flight.”
“Go back to
bed.”
“YOU’RE
GONNA MISS YOUR FLIGHT.”
“Go back to
bed.”
“I’m not
going to bed, I’m going downstairs. Get up.”
“Don’t worry
about it, man.”
In case you
wondered, Nico went back to sleep. I have no idea if he made his flight. The
thing Nico had going for him is that he wasn’t alarm guy. Alarm guy is an
asshole.
After waking
up for the third and final time we headed out to Reykjavik to see the sites.
Interesting
note about the church: In the year 1000 AD Iceland was approximately a 50/50
split between Christians and believers in Norse paganism. Fearing religion
would divide the country, the parliament voted to become a Christian nation,
the only known nation to establish an official religion by vote.
After seeing
the lesser sites Reykjavik had to offer we headed back in the direction of our
hostel (Hlemmur Square) which as fate would have it was located right across the street from
Iceland’s most important attraction, the Penis Museum. We didn’t take any
pictures inside the museum, but suffice it to say that if you’ve ever seen the
tip of sperm whale penis you’ll never look at pulled pork the same way again.
After our
(a)rousing adventure we headed back to the hostel with our newly purchased map
from the tourist info center to begin planning our trip. We sat down at the
hostel bar with a couple pints of Gull (the Budweiser of Iceland, except if Bud
was $9 a pint) and marked up our map while the same homeless British kids from
the day before played their music. We would come to learn later in the show
that they probably aren’t homeless and they are a band called Rum Buffalo. They
were in town to play at the Secret Solstice Festival and the hostel owner,
Klaus, had allowed them to rehearse in the lobby. So, just a side note, when
Rum Buffalo becomes the next big thing, just know that I saw them play two free
shows in the lobby of a hostel in Reykjavik, Iceland before they were cool.
Also, I’m not a hipster.
As the night
wore on I went to a room behind the bar to watch the US-Portugal match with a
Portuguese man and a German while Perry stayed at the bar at first and then
eventually went to watch the sunset with Canada Ice Road Trucker and two of our
other friends that I haven’t properly introduced yet, a British nuclear waste
consultant who was also Ice Road Trucker’s love interest and Fleming the
Icelander who is in favor of shooting children in the neck with novacane. (Quick
note, there was actually an official sunset and sunrise that were about two
hours apart in the south and a half hour in the north, but the dusk/twilight
period could not by any means be described as dark.) Shortly after the game
ended, Britain and Canada returned from their sunset viewing experience without
Fleming and Perry. Canada and I sat at the bar where the awesome hostel night
shift clerk continued to serve us well after the bar closed. Around 2 AM
Fleming returned Perry to the hostel and we sent him off to bed after about 20
minutes of letting his drunk ass entertain us. All we know of Perry’s night is
what Fleming told me which is that he eventually expanded Perry’s horizons from
beer to wine and Perry screamed at the piano to “Sing me a song, you’re the
piano man.” There is also a picture on Fleming’s phone of Perry pretending to
be frightened by a statue of a troll which is probably floating around Icelandic
social media sites.
Day 3: Screw You TLC, We’re Chasing
Waterfalls
Blackout
Perry failed to plug in his phone which somehow survived until the alarm went
off, but Perry immediately turned it off and went back to sleep without telling
me. Luckily I was too paranoid to sleep so I was still awake in time to meet
the rental car delivery man who dropped off Ichiro Suzuki, the noblest of
steeds, pictured below after an adventure later in the week.
Once we got Perry up
and ready to go we picked up our camping gear and groceries and left the city
in search of grand adventures. Our first stop was Þingvellir national park which is located on the divide
between the North American and EurAsian tectonic plates. This is also the
location of the first parliament which was founded in 930 AD. From our
understanding of the brochure, in the first picture we are standing on the edge
of the North American plate with the valley below us being the land that has
formed from lava as the plates separate and then farther in the distance is the
EurAsian plate.
From there we continued on
past Geysir to Gullfoss. We decided to skip Geysir, the original geyser which
gave its name to all others, because our research and tips from locals
suggested it was essentially inactive and its rare blows were chemically
induced. It turns out it could be seen from the road and we did catch one of
its rare blows but weren’t quick enough to snap a picture. Gullfoss was the
first waterfall on our list, but after the stop at Þingvellir
would be our second of the day. Little did we know we’d go on to see so many
waterfalls that I would eventually threaten to punch the next waterfall I saw.
From the parking lot at
Gullfoss we could see the edge of a glacier in the distance and decided we’d
try to get to the glacial lake at the end of it so we took Ichiro on the first
of many F roads. F roads are the minimally maintained roads through the
interior of the island that are rough, one lane wide, and often require you to
ford rivers (who said all that time spent playing Oregon Trail in school
wouldn’t pay off?). It is also illegal to take any vehicle other than a 4x4 on
these roads, although we did see some people try. Eventually we came to a river
that wasn’t suitable for fording and didn’t make it to the glacial lake, but we
knew immediately from that trip that the investment in a 4x4 was worth every
penny. If any of you ever go, you absolutely must get a 4x4 and do the F roads.
From there we headed on to
our final destination of the day, Landmannalaugar. En route we saw some
beautiful landscape and our first of two arctic fox sitings. Unfortunately the
pictures from the campground were taken the next morning when it was rainy and
gross. The beauty around the campsite when we arrived was really indescribable.
And Perry’s fording of the final river was nothing short of a work of art.
Day 4: Welcome to
the Hotel Vík
Tuesday morning we awoke
with grand dreams of hiking the Landmannalaugar area, but it was not to be. The
temperature was 45 degrees and there was a heavy rain that thanks to the high
winds was falling sideways. It’s a good thing we were smart enough to check the
weather when we made our plan. After a
pretty miserable experience taking down the tent and a breakfast of Peanut
Butter and Nutella sandwiches in the front seat of the SUV (a staple of our
Icelandic diet) we set out in search of a less rainy hike. After another scenic
drive we found ourselves at the Fire Canyon which featured a couple kilometer
walk through a field of bright red and black lava rocks along a river between
two ridges ending in yet another waterfall. For the return trip we climbed one
of the ridges for a bird’s eye view of the canyon and we found out for the
first time just how out of shape I really was.
Upon returning to the ring road we saw nothing but rain, so we decided to backtrack just a bit to the small village of Vík where we found ourselves some warm beds and a meal of Icelandic lamb. This would be our least eventful day until the final day of the trip.
Day 5: Spirit of the Arctic Fox
Day 5 started with a short
drive along the southern leg of the ring road to Skaftafell. Once a national
park in its own right, Skaftafell is now part of the much larger Vatnajökull
National Park. Jökull, we deduced, is the Icelandic word for glacier.
Skaftafell includes two tongues of a massive glacier that takes up 8% of the
land area of the entire nation. We spent about 4 hours hiking up a ridge along
one of the tongues which gave several great views of the glacier, a small
glacial lake with mini-icebergs, and incredible wildlife. It was here that we
saw our second arctic fox which came within a few meters of us as it searched
for birds’ nests in the rocks and even looked right at the camera as Perry
snapped one of his pictures. We would learn several days later from a Siberian hitchhiker
that these two arctic fox encounters were made possible because we contain the
spirit of the arctic fox. I could continue to talk about this hike all day
long, but this day is definitely best experienced in pictures.
^Difficult to see, but that's the arctic fox that came near us!^
Day 6:
Like it’s Your Birthday Every Day
That song is without a doubt the
most popular song in Iceland. Whenever we had a radio signal, that song played
about once every 10 minutes. But it didn’t need to my birthday every day
because this really was my birthday, it was also the day of the US-Germany
match, and the day we visited the spot I most wanted to visit, the glacial
lagoon. The glacial lagoon is located at the end of a different tongue of the
same glacier as skaftafell and contains several incredibly gorgeous icebergs.
Enjoy:
From the glacial lagoon we continued
north to the village of Höfn
where we figured we’d grab some seafood. We walked into an extraordinarily
fancy restaurant specializing in langoustine (Icelandic Lobster) where we were
greeted and served and overall treated very well. I mention that last bit
because we were wearing the same sweats as the day before, hadn’t showered
since before our long hike at Skaftafell and a night of camping (read: smelled
like ass), and hadn’t shaved in over a week. We absolutely would not have been
served at a similar restaurant in the US under any circumstances. After Höfn
we continued driving up the east coast and departed from the ring road so that
we could drive along the beautiful East Fjords.
After rejoining
the ring road, we found a scenic overlook where we made dinner.
Finally we
continued on to our destination, Mývatn, which is Icelandic for Lake of the Midges. It was very appropriately
named which had us wishing we had invested in the beekeeper hats we saw around,
but nonetheless it was a beautiful background for a campsite and would offer
some great adventures the following day.
Day 7: Swimming in the Arctic
Ocean
Mývatn , like Þingvellir, is situated on the mid-Atlantic Ridge. The land
formations in the lake are lava flows either from eruptions of the nearby
volcanos or flows that have bubbled up from the separating of the tectonic
plates. Day 7 started with several short hikes at different parts of Mývatn. First
up was a trek up Mt. Hverfjall. Though technically less elevation than the
ridge we climbined at Skaftafell and possibly some of the volcanoes, this constituted
our only official mountain climb of the trip and the summit provided incredible
views of the entire region. From there we went on to lava formations on the far
side of the lake and then on to the inactive volcano Viti whose crater is now
filled with bright blue water from melted snow. Also near Viti was the only
geothermal power plant that we were able to get an up close look at.
We then backtracked just a few kilometers before heading north to the
waterfalls Dettifoss and Selfoss. Dettifoss is the most powerful waterfall in
Europe and according to Perry, more impressive than Niagra Falls which I have
never seen.
After the waterfalls, we moved on to the Arctic Ocean where I went for
a quick swim while Perry decided he was going to be a pussy.
Finally we ended another day packed full of activities by rolling in to
Akureyri, also known as the “Capital of the North.” We figured we’d sample the
local night life, but the only person we met was an Icelandic-American who had
just moved back to Iceland a few weeks prior after spending most of his life in
Virginia. To the best of his knowledge, he is one of only three black people
living in Iceland. We are only able to confirm that he is one of two. He
explained to us that in Akureyri, the locals only go out on Thursdays and
Saturdays so being there on a Friday meant we were out of luck. He also tipped
us off on another interesting phenomenon which is that Icelanders drive around
town in circles looking for bars with lots of activity, but never get out and
come in. After observation both in Akureyri and elsewhere, we realized this was
absolutely true. If everybody who drove by the bar multiple times had actually
gotten out of their cars and come into the bars, there would have been a fairly
decent crowd. Also, according to our new friend, we came at the wrong time of
year. Apparently in August a small fishing village near Akureyri hosts a fish
festival and people from all over the world come to eat fish and have sex. I
guess the fish is just that good. We’ll have to take his word for it.
Day 8: Cute Hitchhikers and the “Most
Famous Band in all of Iceland”
Day 8 was supposed to be mostly a driving day with drives along the
northern coast and a peninsula in the west that was known for its spectacular
views. Our trip north started a little shaky when we missed a turn, which didn’t
really take us too far out of our way, but sent us through 14 km worth of
tunnels that were a bit sketchy to drive through. Eventually we completed our
drive along the north with a few decent pictures of the coast and then made our
cut to the west.
As we made our way west, we came across a couple of hitchhikers trying
to get to a town in the West Fjords. We weren’t able to get them there, but we
could move them about a half hour sideways to a road where they were probably
going to get more traffic than the one they were on so they decided to join us
for a while. This particular pair of hitchhikers was two lovely young ladies
from Siberia and Germany (The Siberian is the one that told us we had the
spirit of the arctic fox). They were both ecology students in between their
undergrad and masters programs in their home countries and were doing research
for a local whale museum. They had a four day weekend and were going to see a
friend in the fjords. After dropping them off we continued on to our peninsula where
we hoped to see some more natural sites, however fate would have different
plans for us. We did go to the peninsula, but whereas the rest of the island
and the surrounding ocean were sunny, the universe decided to say, “Fuck this
peninsula in particular” and make it cloudy and not very pleasant. The
following photograph is what our photographer’s map called “one of the most
beautiful photographic locations in Iceland.”
So, we cut across the peninsula and headed back inland where it was
sunny. Because we cut our time their short, we made it a little farther down
the road than we had planned and that made all the difference. After setting up
camp just outside of Borgarnes, Perry unsuccessfully tried to make a beer run.
It turns out all the stores were closed at 8 pm on a Saturday. Luckily, unlike
all of the other camp grounds we had been to where fun was discouraged, this
campground consisted almost entirely of native Icelanders who were out
drinking, singing, and having a good time. As such, we were still able to get
our hands on some beer and we learned that there was going to be a big dance in
town where the most famous band in all of Iceland would be playing. Naturally
we had to check it out so after hanging out with our new Icelandic friends for
a while, we headed into town. Eventually we made it to what may have been some
sort of community center or more likely and elementary school where it seemed
everybody from the whole town, plus our friends from the campground who had
travelled from the capital, were gathered in the parking lot drinking, mostly
wine either straight from the bottle or from water bottles. When I say the
whole town, I mean everybody aged 15-90+ was there and they were all pregaming
in the parking lot. Eventually at about 1 am, the customary Icelandic time to
start a party, we made our way inside to the school gym/cafeteria (where they
were selling alcohol) and we danced with many, many beautiful Icelanders for
the remainder of the night. We also tried some Icelandic shots which were
rather strange. They started like Jaeger and finished like Rumple Minze. The
concert ended around three and we all headed back to the campground. Being the
weak Americans that we were, we headed to bed before 4 AM, while the Icelanders
kept the party going until at least 7 AM.
Day 9: Pompeii of the North
We got a slow start the next morning, but did get on the road again. We headed south via an interior F road and made one last stop at a waterfall.
Once
we got to the south we hopped on a ferry to Heimaey, an island off the southern
coast. Heimaey is known as Pompeii of the North because an eruption in 1937
buried 417 homes on the island. The eruption wasn’t all bad though, as it upped
the island’s size from 11 km^2 to 13 km^2 and the ingenious locals used the
fresh lava as a geothermal heat source to provide all of their heating needs
for over a decade before it was cool enough to be uneconomical. Here we walked
through the lava fields above where homes and businesses once stood and then
climbed the volcano. Also just off the island are two other even smaller
islands that each contain a single house. One of these two is the famous house
that makes the front page of Imgur all the time. If you use Imgur, you’ll
recognize it in the photos below.
Above: Before Eruption Below:Today
Once back on the mainland, we headed for a swimming pool in the
mountains. The naturally heated pool was built in 1923 and is given light
maintenance once a year by the locals. To reach it you park at the end of a
remote gravel road after a few minutes of driving from the ring road and then
hike an additional 20 minutes into the valley to reach the pool. The pool is
naturally heated and not well known to tourists. Most of the people there were
locals. We did meet three Americans who had heard about by asking some local
kids where the best place to swim was. All in all it was the perfect relaxing
way to wrap up the trip.
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