I arrived in Amsterdam with only a few hours to spare. I tried to call Josine to no avail. I would not be able to re-visit Bloemgracht. I grabbed lunch at an incredible burger joint before meeting up with my beautiful lady friend, Leah, in Dam Square.
Upon walking into Dam Square, I recognized Leah immediately. She was donning an alpaca hat, a rather substantial one. We found a hostel for the night. In the morning we went to the Noordermarkt to try to equip ourselves for adventures ahead; later that day we would board a flight to Iceland. Leah sought to complete her alpaca look. After some time, we found a full length coat made from faux white fur. It was beautiful. Truly.
We boarded our flight and landed in Keflavik a few hours later. Leah had reserved a car, but we made a choice to downgrade to a more affordable, two-wheel drive manual transmission vehicle upon learning the conversion rates- not favorable. We shifted the rental into my name, and opted out of the insurance plan. I figured since we were already on top of a bunch of shifting tectonic plates and volcanos we were already in sort of deep-might as well go all in. I did not know how to drive stick, but had plenty of experience with driving motorcycles.
In Iceland, everything was magical. The drive from the airport was magical. The landscape, the food, the people. We fell in love.
We reserved seven days to circumnavigate the island, counterclockwise around highway 1, or the 'ring road'. Our plans were no plans. We stayed the first two nights in Reykjavik, preparing for the journey ahead. Both Leah and I bought boots, as our sneakers proved insufficient even for the snow in and around Iceland's largest town. We went to a convenience store where we bought supplies for the road: a lighter, yoghurt, cheese, bread, and dehydrated fish. Setting out, we didn't know what we were in store for, but we'd seen previews from our short drives the days prior. On the third day, we bought a Björk album, and a book of Icelandic folk tales, and set out. I felt that Björk guided the journey. perhaps I cannot describe it to it's fullest, but I felt as though the one album, gosh I don't even know the name of it, was our trip. It was confusing at first. Neither Leah or I knew much about what was happening; such a foreign place, such a foreign experience. As some time passed, it became clear that we were being romanced. We fell for it and after one week had passed, we found ourselves only half way around the ring road. We cancelled our flights and extended by a week. We began to know the Björk album quite well, as we listened to it on repeat. There was a chorus sequence on the album which without fail would inspire me to look out of the car window at a landscape that mesmerized me like nothing else. As I type this, I can feel the energy form the rocks, I can see the Icelandic horses. I remember hours of driving in the mountains, where all you could see was white white white white white, with yellow markers noting the shoulders of the road on either side and stopping the car five times within an hour to just walk to a rock or a small waterfall, which probably did not have a name, but was more beautiful than anything. We spent the night at a horse lodge. We swam in geothermic pools whenever we got the chance. We woke up early and drove to the shore of a frozen river to watch the sun rise over distant mountains. We threw snowballs. We checked into a hotel where there was no one else staying; we were the duke and the duchess. We explored trails. We fed wild horses. We sat by a lighthouse a the edge of the world and talked about death. We ate well. We slept in. We took time.
Another week passed. Leah flew out one day before I.
After Leah flew out, I drove back to downtown Reykjavik. I grabbed a cup of coffee at a cafe that we'd become acquainted with in our first days. I'd met a gentleman there who was working on a beautiful drawing. His name was Steindor. He was full of great insights about Iceland. I hoped to see him there again on what was to be my last night in Iceland. It was a couple hours into my cafe visit that Steindor walked in and came to my table. We struck up conversation as if no time had passed. I mentioned that I would like to spend my last night out in the car somewhere away from the city lights. He noted that there were several places that would be suitable, and offered to show me if I gave him a ride. We walked to the rental car and got in . We spent the next two hours driving around Reykjavik while he told stories of different areas of the town, and in what ways Iceland has changed in the past ten years. Steindor spoke with authority, and his opinions were sound. He illustrated the financial crisis and Iceland's recent shift in economic priorities towards tourism (rater than fishing). We came to a rural area where he said I would likely be safe, noting that the only other people out here were smoking weed or having car sex. Seemed like a fine camping spot to me. We went back into town, where I dropped Steindor off at his house. I drove around for a long time, revisiting all of the areas which Steindor had made note of, preparing for the cold night ahead. I made my way into the wilderness on a single lane road. The road became unpaved, and after some time I found a pull-off that would be suitable for a night's rest. The sky was overcast, no romantic stars. It was a cold night, and during my sleep I periodically awoke from chill to restart the car and heat up the cabin again.
In the morning, I took a walk. As was a theme for Leah and I, I was pleasantly surprised by my surroundings upon waking, as they had been shrouded by darkness prior. The landscape was astounding. Mosses over volcanic rock, virgin snow patches remained in the shadows of trees. Small pools of water reflected blue morning sky from atop boulders. I came across two large caves, and walked slowly back into its dark interior. My eyes slowly adjusted and I took a seat. An immense experience. I left.
