I arrived in the capital of Iceland with a whole new wardrobe including snow pants, gloves, a full length down waterproof parka, a thermal base layer, wool socks and new hiking boots. And while I never ended up getting too cold, that didn’t stop me from still spending every day I was there nervous about getting too cold.
As any Icelander will tell you, Iceland is a strange place. The island stays surprisingly temperate considering it sits just below the arctic circle, it averages between high 20s and low 50s Fahrenheit depending on the month. It is far enough north that there are a few days of complete darkness in the winter and total sunlight in the summer. I went in October, a good time to catch the northern lights and when the days still average what seemed like a normal number of hour of sunlight.
Although the temperature doesn’t vary to extremes, the storms appear quickly and are not to be trifled with. While I was trying to travel between towns, a storm caused a bus to be pushed over, stopping all busses from running for several days. Meanwhile I wandered between destinations in this strong wind, which felt like some high school bully was coming up behind me and shoving me forward or backwards at random intervals and was one of the most unnerving and least pleasant experiences I’ve ever had. Many visitors choose to rent a car or a camper to drive around the entire coast of the island following what is known as the Ring Road. This is a great option for those that want to see more of the country at their own pace. However, the unpredictable weather can turn dangerous quickly, leaving some tourists stranded almost every year. I chose to take day tours and leave the driving to the natives.
Iceland is literally growing. It sits on two tectonic plates that are growing apart at the astonishing rate, in geological terms, of two centimeters per year. Because the plates are growing apart, not crashing into each other as we are used to in the Americas, the magnitude of the earthquakes are negligible but the volcanic eruptions are constant. It’s important to keep in mind the dangers of glacier river crossings and the geothermal vents littered throughout the island. Don’t forget about the black sand beaches with towering waves and a deadly undertow. All of this adds up to create one dramatic, scary, and strikingly beautiful landscape. Despite the inhospitable nature of the place, there is something familiar and welcoming about Iceland. Maybe it’s the plucky and relaxed cultural attitude of the Icelanders themselves, or maybe it is the tourist economy, or that I happened to be in a particularly good mood for this trip, but something about Iceland really strikes a cord.
In some ways it feels lost in time. The printing press and the industrial revolution did not make their way to the island, for example. Iceland did not become independent from Denmark until 1944. As a result, many traditional ways of doing things were continued the same way for literally thousands of years. This is not to imply that I found Iceland antiquated, but more that there is a unique cultural influence as a result of the preservation of so many customs and attitudes that is hard to find elsewhere.
There was a sense of joy and optimism that radiated from the people there. One person I met who had been living in Iceland for the past 13 years explained it to me as an unordinary appreciation of life and simple pleasures. He theorized this is because it is so difficult and precarious to live there. Especially for farmers and fishers living outside the cities, everything can be lost due to just one bad storm, one bad volcanic eruption, one bad harvest. Exposure to this kind beauty and danger can shock even the most world weary into a more down to earth perspective. I personally took to trying to slow down, soaking in hot springs and hiking on glaciers that are here for the present moment and will be gone the next.
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