The Last Stepping Stone Back Home

My last stop on my trip back to the United States was Iceland.  The reasoning behind my visit to this remote island was two-fold: the flights connecting the island to Chicago were cheap and cut flight times quite a bit, and when else would I ever have a chance to visit this mystical place?  The only missing link I had from my flight was getting to London from Munich (since Iceland Air did not fly from Munich to Reykjavik).  But my risky booking of Easy Jet worked out, and I landed safely and on time in Iceland.

My first impressions of Iceland were definitely of awe.  The bus from the airport to the capital shipped us past miles and miles of barren land.  The land was absent of trees, there was no evidence of farms, and the sky was grey and dreary.  It was also much colder than I had imagined, since I have enjoyed balmy weather in the 70s in Macedonia through most of spring. My other initial impression of Iceland: Damn!  Things here are expensive.  Prices were definitely higher than I had been used to in Macedonia, and they even seemed steep compared to what we are accustomed to in the States.  One may easily reason why the prices are so steep, since Iceland is so isolated, does not grow most of its food, and only has 300,000 inhabitants.  But the high prices were definitely a hard pill to swallow after leaving the Peace Corps.

After situating myself at the hostel, I journeyed over to Cafe Loki, which is famous for serving classic Iceland dishes.  I figured I may as well splurge on traditional foods immediately so that I can focus on budgeting my meals through the rest of the trip.  The menu was very foreign to me, but I knew that my meal should satisfy two qualifications: I wanted to eat fish, and I wanted to try the rotten shark.  The shark was a few slices of pickled meat sticks (accompanied by a tiny Iceland flag), and while the taste was not completely wretched, it also was not an entirely memorable experience.  Fortunately, it allowed me to open up a conversation with a nearby table of tourists with whom I was eventually able to join and share my meal.

At this table, I met with Daniel and Alex (a married couple who are living in Boston).  We also engaged a young man, Jeff, who was serving in the Navy in Italy but was originally from Alabama.  We shared a great conversation at this dinner, and we made sure to exchange contacts so that I may possibly meet with Alex and Daniel when I move to Boston in the autumn. 

Americans outside of Cafe Loki

I also began to learn at this meal that meeting Americans on this trip to Iceland would be the norm.  It was strange for me, since meeting Americans is a relatively rare occurrence while in Europe (it is more likely to meet Australians or Canadians).  Yet Iceland's airlines are driving a zealous marketing campaign to attract Americans to the island, which seems to be successful.  Estimates claim that already 300,000 visitors had stayed in Iceland in the first three months of 2016 alone, which is comparable to the total yearly value in 2003. 

Thus, flying through Iceland on my return to the States was a precipitously fortuitous decision, since I would be able to acclimate to interacting with Americans.  Honestly, engaging with Americans was a lot more uncomfortable for me than I had imagined.  Here were people who spoke my language and probably had similar experiences like me, yet it was much more difficult to fully engage them in a conversation as I would be able to with Europeans.  I cannot put my finger on why I was experiencing difficulty, but I registered that this would be one element of readjusting to life in the States.

Jeff, whom I met at the cafe, and I drank a few beers on the balcony of my hostel, and by 10PM the sun dipped below most of the clouds, and we enjoyed a sunny night.  He soon decided to return to his hostel while I strolled solo through Reykjavik, capturing the city in photos under its nocturnal summer sun.  Brisk and cool, splashed with the ocean breeze, and draped in weak rays, the harbor along Reykjavik was gorgeous, and was branded into my memory.

The summer sun never sets in Iceland

From the bell tower of the church

Strolling through a cemetery

Night drinking along the bay

Through the rest of the trip, I enjoyed various tours to learn about the city and the island.  Iceland has such a young history (it was under the Danish crown for most of the past millennium, and only gained independence during World War II).  I also booked a tour through a company to take me through the Golden Circle.  The Golden Circle navigated through the continental divide between North American and European tectonic plates.  At this rift existed a historically significant part of Iceland's history, where the people would gather in the summer to recite the laws and establish a code of conduct through the island (the place reminded me of the King's Moot of the Game of Thrones' Iron Islands, and the show had even filmed at this location).  Through the tour we also saw a grand waterfall, geysers, and ended our trip at the Secret Lagoon, a much more low key hot spring.  And no, I did not visit the Blue Lagoon, since I heard that it was the Disney World attraction of Iceland.

Iceland was captivating, and enjoyed some of my favorite morning runs along its coast.  Straddled between the North American and European plates, this trip was a great last stepping stone for my return to the United States, and a great farewell to Europe.

Barren land

Along the rift

King's Moot

OG (the Original Geyser, after which all geysers were named)

Golden Falls

Secret Lagoon