ICELAND: Land of Fire and Ice, but What Lurks Underneath?

Iceland reminds me of a truth I understood long ago: Never underestimate what lurks behind a calm, quiet face. That smiling person in the corner? She may be the angriest person in the room. That grumpy gruff person over there? Might be the kindest. And that woman in the corner, who seems distracted? Or so it seems. She may propose the winning solution, or destroy everything in an instant. You just never know with people, islands, or icebergs, based on the visible.

Iceland’s like that. On its surface, Iceland’s soaking warm sulphur pools and jagged rifts of stiff black lava stone look calm, a land of dramatic beauty and eye-popping natural wonders. Ah, but underneath surprises await, and invisible forces work out of sight. Things move. There may be hidden people. Or elves. Or trolls. Maybe. 

At any moment Iceland’s solid foundation, balanced upon ocean-sized tectonic plates, may shift. No way to know when, although swarms of powerful earthquakes shook Reykjavik, Iceland’s capital city, before we arrived. Those unseen shifting plates propelled a volcano into eruption on August 3rd, 2022, splitting the earth wide open.

Now, a jagged open wound 300 meters long spews red molten lava, lava that burbles up from the deepest depths of the earth. We drove through miles of crusted black lava fields formed through this same process, oozed and erupted out of fizzures, an active geological process ongoing in Iceland today.

The gushing molten lava is just over there, our guide pointed, behind that hill, behind that police barricade that stopped our van, warning visitors away. “See those large black boulders sitting in the middle of that hiking trail?” our guide said. We did. “The earthquakes did that.” 

We looked up, at the high cliffs above, from which those car-sized boulders must have dropped. Think we’ll skip that trail hike. Skip seeing that molten lava, for now. What’s hidden, what’s about to happen, what you can’t see coming straight at you, like lightning bolts and life events, can destroy. Of course. Easy to forget, while gawking at all the stunning Icelandic scenery.

The ongoing eruption is a small one, relatively speaking. So far, new ruptures haven’t belched out suffocating ash fog like a 536 CE eruption did, when ash plunged Europe into darkness for an entire year. At the same time, bubonic plague decimated whole populations and famines spread worldwide. Some historians call 536 CE ‘the worst year to be alive’ and no wonder.  

Or remember that other Icelandic eruption in 2010 when air traffic halted for three weeks, due to a monster-sized ash cloud? So things can always be worse. Much worse. 

I’m writing this while gazing out at the vast North Atlantic Sea, perched by a picture window in Café al Bacio, our midship coffee bar. The whirring blades of a helicopter circle outside, busy completing a medical evacuation of one of our passengers on the Celebrity Summit, our cruise ship home for 12 days. So yes, things can always get worse. 

I hope that passenger makes it, and I’m thankful every morning that I have one more day to celebrate life’s wonders, including last night’s Northern Lights heavenly display. Yep, a fortuitous miracle visited our journey last night, as we looked up to see the glowing green Northern Lights. 

We didn’t expect that, not now or ever, since we have only so many travel years left and a search for the Aurora Borealis was not high up on the ‘must see’ list although it should have been. But ah well. Never say never, silly little human people, to the bad AND good surprises, and never forget to show gratitude for every day, every moment. Things can miraculously, unexpectedly, get better, after all.

Ok end of sermon, and more on the astonishing Northern Lights in a later post. 

Back to Reykjavik:

And we think 2022 is bad. Naw. Bad is relative. Good to remember that, when we’re complaining. Or, as an Icelander might tell you, þetta reddast (pronounced thet-ta red-dhast). “Don’t worry, things will come together somehow” which is a common Icelandic phrase, the country’s unofficial motto. Such a healthy attitude for when the ground underneath shifts constantly and no one knows what will happen next. Like, uh, life on any day just pick one. Right? Anything can happen. So don’t worry! We’ll figure it out somehow.

Local Reykjavikians demonstrated their ‘don’t worry’ attitude for us on two separate occasions, when the best-laid plans of mice and men (and the Blonde) went awry. What to do, when Padre leaves his backpack behind, the one with the special hearing aid batteries we probably can’t find anywhere but home? (fyi the Blonde, the one who CAN hear, didn’t hear Padre ask her to grab the backpack…go figure). So what to do when our port shuttle didn’t show up, while time ticked down to when our cruise ship pushed away from the dock? Don’t worry! We’ll figure it out somehow.

And that’s just what we did, with the help of our new Icelandic friends. More on how we solved our travel challenges later, but first: We chose the PERFECT Reykjavik Airbnb vacation rental, and not just because it came attached to þora and Velundur, the owners, who graciously helped us solve one of our travel problems.

HISTORIC HOME CLOSE TO EVERYTHING. COMES WITH HISTORIC STONES!

Cruise travelers know to book their departure port lodgings far in advance, and I had done just that:  a highly recommended, centrally located hotel. Yet lucky us – our wonderful Key West friend, Pat, and her sister Jean decided to join us on our Icelandic adventure rather late in the planning process. Not much was left by the time I started hunting for an Airbnb so we could all stay together, but we lucked out since þora and Volundur were still renovating the space and had just opened up new bookings. 

The two-bedroom apartment is part of the foundation of a historic home, built for an early Icelandic parliamentarian and once owned by Iceland’s most famous composer, Jòn Leifs. Mr. Leifs created vast orchestral works inspired by Icelandic natural phenomena such as volcanic eruptions, powerful waterfalls, and classic Icelandic sagas. He may have composed one of his best known works, Requiem Op. 33b, while he lived in this house, overcome with grief due to the 1947 tragic drowning death of his 18-year old daughter, to whom the Requiem is dedicated. 

þora and Velundur purchased the derelict property several years ago, renovating the main house so skillfully that in 2019, Reykjavik’s mayor bestowed upon their handiwork an outstanding renovation award. The stone walls of the basement were constructed of the same stones as Iceland’s historic parliament building, built around the same time in 1882. 

So a very historic basement, updated with all the modern conveniences, even a combination washer/dryer. And if you think stone sounds cold, think again: Iceland’s famous geothermal heating systems warmed our thermally controlled cement floor, a floor that efficiently heated the entire apartment. A cozy, comfortable space, stocked with cookies, coffee, tea, fresh fruit, snuggly down comforters, and other creature comforts.

Our Airbnb location couldn’t be better for visitors who plan to walk: Steps from downtown restaurants, the bus lines, near the base of Reykjavik’s most popular shopping streets. So once we checked in, we walked everywhere, returning to our historic basement headquarters to rest and refuel.

ICELAND HOT POOLS: SWIM WITH LOCALS

Padre and I flew in on an early morning flight, so before we checked into our airbnb we spent a jet-lagged day exploring Reykjavik and swimming. Downtown Reykjavik is surprisingly easy to manage due to almost non-existent traffic. Politicians are in the process of banning all cars, a contentious local issue, which may be why we saw so few vehicles. Plenty of easy-to-rent electric scooters, though, zippy flat flying wedges that cause other types of pedestrian issues. Elderly visitors wary of falling, beware. Probably not a good idea to scooter if you have falling worries, since we witnessed some young fit tourists trying them out – lots of wobbling and lurching. So no.

Soon, we had our luggage stowed and began our trek to the popular Sundhollin swimming pool.  (fyi we stowed the luggage at Traðarkot Car Park, across from the cultural center and a few steps from Bus Stop #6.) The Sundhollin Public Baths are housed in a 1930s architectural wonder designed by the same man who created Reykjavik’s iconic cathedral, Hallgrímskirkja.  The facility sits just behind the church’s spire, in fact, although Padre and I meandered up to it through the back streets due to our map squabbling.

Padre and I seldom argue except when huddled over maps when our stubborn sides emerge, and this occasion was no exception. A collaborative effort, sometimes including snappy retorts, manipulative frowns, and almost-shouting. Never shouting, but almost-shouting. Turns out that the pool is actually quite easy to find, even though we found it the hard way.

Yet we made it. The Sundhollin facility was HUGE: Two lap pools, indoor and out, several soaking pools, saunas and steam rooms, bustling with locals, tourists, families, mothers with babies, soaking, laughing and relaxing. And the sun peeked out for a while, so everyone seemed very happy and relaxed. Padre and I were almost comatose by the end of our soak. Almost asleep. And happy. Definitely not squabbling.

Nothing like a good soak to stop the frowning! No wonder Icelanders don’t worry. They love their swimming pools and hot springs, and I love their swimming pools and hot springs. Love, love love them. I’d move to Iceland just so I could soak every day, as many Icelanders do. I think we’d all be happier if we took the waters every day, as I explained in my last post when we visited several Colorado Hot Springs. More soaking, more relaxing, more laughing. More, please. 

And FYI prudish Americans, be aware that when you soak with the Icelanders you are expected to strip naked in the locker room – nothing, na da – and wash very thoroughly, all the crevices, before and after your swim. Icelanders are blasé about nudity, and passing gas.

What I meant to say, what I mean….. is…. farts. We Americans like to use euphemisms to avoid uncomfortable words or situations. Or hide in shower stalls so no one can see us nude. (I blame our ancestors, the Puritans, for our silly prudishness, I do.) We walked down the street behind an elegantly dressed gentleman, for instance, and he let one rip. No ‘excuse me’ or anything. Turns out Icelanders could care less about farts, so fyi prudish Americans – let her rip, I guess? 

So no big deal, those farts, or the nudity. One of our guides good naturedly complained that tourists have ruined the Icelander habit of stripping buck naked and leaping in at the sight of a hot pool. Now they must stop to don a suit, darn it, which goes against their natural inclinations. We thank them for the suits, since that total nudity thing would flip many Americans out, with all those Puritan voices chattering away in our heads. 

Our guide also informed us that Icelanders could care less what you look like – fat, skinny, tall, short, black, white, blue, or green, gay, straight, young, or wrinkly old. Don’t care, especially when we’re all soaking happily away in 105 degrees sulphur water. How refreshing to live in a world where it just doesn’t matter. Just don’t worry about it, say the Icelanders, as they strip down to their birthday suits and fart with abandon. I mean, why not? We’re only human here, all of us together.

After our swim, soak, and a quick meal, we stumbled to our historic basement apartment to finally collapse under those heavenly down comforters, in our cozy apartment with the heated floors, to await our other travelling companions and rest up for the next day’s adventures.

Stay tuned for more on our soaks and tours. For now, here are two excellent examples of Icelander’s “don’t worry, everything will work out” attitude at work, and how we solved the travel challenges.

WHAT’S LOST IS FOUND, ELIAS SAVES THE DAY, AND PIZZA!

First example: On our third day in Reykjavik we met our driver/guide Elias, and piled into his 16-passenger van for an 11-hour Golden Circle tour with Nice Travel (love that name. So Icelandic, right?) Eleven hours is an eternity in tourist world, so we were thrilled that our handsome Icelandic guide treated each passenger with kindness and consideration as they climbed aboard. Precurser of things to come, turns out.

At the end of a long wonderful day of touring we needed dinner, and Pat asked Elias if he knew where we could order pizza. Elias not only ordered our dinner pizza for us; he drove us to the pizza place so we could pick it up on our way back to our Airbnb. We said goodbye to Elias, piping hot pizza boxes clutched in our hungry hands, lucky us.

But then, I left the backpack behind. We’ve left things behind on tours before – hats, gloves – and never seen the items again, since it’s not so simple to track things down in a foreign country when you can’t read addresses, let alone converse on the phone. 

Elias was long gone, but while we were busy figuring out how Padre could manage without his hearing aid batteries, my phone rings (which wasn’t supposed to work – no sim card or phone plan – so go figure). Elias had tracked us down, and driven in his own car, to our historic basement, to deliver Padre’s backpack right to our front door. How nice is that? 

VELUNDUR SAVES ANOTHER DAY, AND WE SAY BON VOYAGE

Second example: The port shuttle no-show. I purposely arranged a private shuttle transfer with Shuttle Direct, a company I’ve used several times before with no problem. As minutes ticked beyond our 11:00 am pickup time, travel panic settled in as I attempted several calls to the Shuttle Direct emergency number listed on our reservation papers. Put on hold with Spain, all three tries. Not helpful, that emergency number. On hold with Spain for twenty minutes. Not helpful in an emergency, not at all.

Our Airbnb owner attempted to hail another taxi for us, but of course all the taxis were busy transporting thousands of cruise passengers to the port simultaneously. Of course.

So finally, Velundur piled all four of us, including several pieces of luggage, into his own car and drove us to the pier, depositing us just outside the luggage drop off point, refusing any payment. Just pass on the good. 

How’s that for ‘don’t worry about it, it will all work out’ kind of service? 

Iceland has now catapulted to the top of our list of ‘Favorite Places We’ve Visited, EVER’ due to the personal graciousness displayed toward us, by her citizens. What a wonderful place.

Much more to come, so stay tuned for a Cool History Teacher Walk, our Golden Circle Gale-Force Winds Experience, and All Aboard the Celebrity Summit. 

Thanks everyone, as always, for following along! More soon.