An Iceland Adventure
Glacier a couple of hours away from the Icelandic capital. Photo by Lisa Stephenson.
Iceland — known as the land of fire and ice, referring to its volcanoes and glaciers — has been on my travel bucketlist since Game of Thrones shot scenes for the land beyond the wall there.
In August, on my way back from Canada, Reykjavík finally became something more than an extremely convenient layover when travelling between Europe and North America. The trip was genuinely unforgettable.
Once I saw the largely treeless Icelandic plateau from the airplane I noticed its unusual amber colour, and felt like we were approaching another planet. We landed and purple heather, rather than green forests and pastures, spread out all around the tarmac.
Iceland stays wild due to the fact that the island country remains one of the most sparsely populated nations on the planet, with about 360,000 citizens comfortably spreading out across 103,000 eerily beautiful square kilometres.
Its otherworldliness, I soon learned, makes the place feels like both an adventure and an incredible challenge. Building your home there cannot have been simple for those hardy Scandinavians settling the island long ago (an ancient manuscript states that Norwegian chieftain Ingólfr Arnarson became the first person to permanently set up shop there in 874 CE.)
Jetlagged breakfast view. Could be worse. Photo by Lisa Stephenson.
Remote places like these sometimes gives you the impression that you need several weeks — and really advanced hiking equipment — to discover them. But Iceland has enough roads to open up access to the wild even for relative homebodies with pathetic trainers for hiking boots. We were three compartively comfortable Swedes with only four days for sightseeing but easily experienced sublime mountains, glaciers, black sand beaches, craters, caves, geysers, waterfalls, and hot springs.
True enough, you do need warm clothing and something with four wheels to get you places, but prepared with these, southern Iceland invites you to see the most pristine nature you will ever come across.
Viking ships and rotten eggs
First up on our trip was, however, culture — specifically Viking and really eccentric contemporary Icelandic culture.
But before visiting the renowned Penis Museum (sorry, the Phallological Museum) we saw the more intellectual Viking Gokstad ship replica — an incredibly faithful reconstruction that once sailed from Iceland all the way to North America as Leif Eriksson did in 1021 CE. Apparently Hillary Clinton was involved at some point, though I would guess that she did not come along for the whole ride.
I loved the beautiful wooden scent of the huge Viking ship, which I would soon miss as we travelled on to be greeted by mother nature in her smelliest guise.
By the smelly hot spring. Photo by Lisa Stephenson.
Hot springs are essentially groundwater that becomes heated by geothermal energy and are therefore sometimes heavenly outdoor baths — but not always.
Here, boiling water released steam that smelled like rotten eggs, sailing into your face every other minute, both increasing your respect for the real dangers coming along with Icelandic nature as well as showing you an irony in something so beautiful being so insufferable. The smell did, however, seem significantly less bad when you told yourself that what you smelled was sulphur dioxide, and not rotten eggs. That brain trick came in handy later as even the shower and tap water in Iceland smells faintly that way.
Black sand beach. Photo by Lisa Stephenson.
Reykjavík, Hallgrímskirkja, more Vikings, Penis Museum
Tourists love to call places charming and quaint — especially tourists from big cities — but speaking as someone who comes from somewhere small I can certify that the Icelandic capital does indeed feel quite quaint.
The capital city hosts most of the people who live on Iceland, but even the centre hardly felt metropolitan with its narrow streets, cramped parking, vegan eateries and many small souvenir boutiques where you can buy an expensive but very rustic so-called “Iceland Sweater.”
Since there are so few trees on Iceland (the Norse settlers chopped down them all) most buildings are made from stone and concrete, and only some are adorned with decorative ruffled sheet metal added to the facade.
The only buildings that appeared hypermodern were the 2011 concert hall and the 1986 Hallgrímskirkja, Reykjavík’s “weird-ass church,” as Carl described the big concrete spire that looks like futuristic brutalist architecture. The entire thing was tall and grey and completely devoid of visual decoration and seemed like the opposite of the Sistine Chapel — cool but underwhelming for Renaissance architecture nerds such as myself.
View from the apartment. Photo by Lisa Stephenson.
After an African stew lunch at a Vegan café, we and strolled along the pier to the Saga Museum which lively retold some of Iceland’s most iconic stories alongside realistic wax figures. It was basically like an educational Madame Tussauds.
And then, there was the Penis Museum.
My academic side wishes I would say that I enjoyed the sagas and the ship more — but the fact remains that I have never had so much fun visting an exhibition. Eccentric would only be the beginning to describing that place.
The museum has more than 215 dicks and dick parts, from sea creatures to land mammals, and yes, even from Homo Sapiens. Indeed, there were legally certified letters from deceased people donating their own dicks that are now on display inside jars filled with formaldehyde. Shown beneath glass and illuminated by mood lighting were also bowties made from whale penis skin, worn by the founder during an official event. No wonder that place offers its visitors alcohol as they walk around.
Medieval depiction on display at the museum.
Preserved private parts are much to absorb alone, and as the cherry on top, the absurd visual experience was coupled with odd reproductive facts about that animal. All I will say is, there is nothing new under the sun.
Bizarre. Gross. And really, really funny.
If you find yourself in Reykjavík, my advice would be to go there — promptly. Do not miss out on the Icelandic Phallological Museum. You will laugh and learn lots about penises and how the Nordic people foster eccentricity and humour during endless cold and grey days to stay alive. People may give you the impression that they hate fun, but Nordic people can throw parties, too. They are just not always particularly elegant.
Yoda Cave and Killer Waves
We had an absurd amount of luck with the weather for most of our trip, and particularly when we explored the southern Icelandic wilderness.
Carl valiantly put up with us singing Taylor Swift songs and drove us around to places like Yoda Cave, which — as it sounds — is a naturally formed cave that looks like Yoda. That was fun.
Afterwards we visited another dark sand beach that became thoroughly black when the waves washed over it. Sounds tranquil enough, but even during the height of summer, an Iceland black sand beach does not remind you much of one on Mallorca. Plastered all over an information board were newspaper clippings and warnings in bold letters about so-called deadly sneaker waves — enormous sudden waves that can quickly sweep distracted people into the cold waters. Somebody had even snapped a photo of that happening to an unlucky tourist. No selfie for me there.
Photo by Carl Carlson.
Rainbow waterfalls, Norse democracy, geysirs
On the list from the very beginning was the famous “Golden Circle” — three famous locations that are within driving distance from Reykjavík, and an experience recommended to every tourist.
The first was Þingvellir, an important historical site where the parliamentary proceedings of the Alþing — basically Norse chieftains meeting to haggle about different political issues — took place from 930 to 1798. Some people mean that the parliament constitutes the oldest one on the planet, and the site has kept its place in Icelandic national identity — one thousand years later after its beginnings, in 1944, Iceland declared its independence from Denmark there.
Not that I do not nerd out about democracy, but for once the Geology caught my attention more, as two tectonic plates separated here sometime, creating an enormous rift across the valley that resulted in rocky passages that you can walk through. Apparently, one side belongs to Eurasia and the other to North America.
We then saw Strokkur and Geysir — the latter being the geyser after which all geysers are named. Only Strokkur remains active, however, and that one spritzed water probably about ten to fifteen metres high every fifteen minutes. Since you cannot predict exactly when the geyser will go off people stood transfixed with phones and big eyes every minute. To be fair, an erupting geyser makes for an unbeatable and for once relatively safe selfie.
Gullfoss. Photo by Lisa Stephenson.
At Gullfoss, the third location, we were madly lucky with the weather again, and saw an entire rainbow stretch out across the spectacular waterfall. Its name comes from the golden colour that the sun brings to the water.
An Iceland Adventure
Many words came to mind during my short trip when I thought about how to best describe Iceland.
Words like unspoiled, untamed, gorgeous, and dangerous seemed fitting, its many treasures there for you to enjoy — but only on its own terms. The thrilling nature, so unlike the boring cabbage fields I cycled past every day on my way to school, comes with both discomfort and risks.
Hot springs can be comfortably warm and they can burn you. Before you hike up to an active volcano, make sure the wind blows correctly. Geysers and waterfalls can soak you, and remember that sneaky monster waves can cut tourist trips short in an instant (though that happens extremely rarely.) With a car, true adventure was easily accessible, but leisure was rarely the feeling I had.
Sometimes I ponder whether certain places on Earth really are more beautiful than others. Usually my thinking leads to the conclusion that comparing different places feels pointless, as nature exists everywhere and brings an uncomporable characteristic beauty to every country, whether desert or tropical. But something about Iceland truly felt unique and otherworldly — a home like no other — and you understand why the Norse settlers decided that the island was worth the hard work it demanded from them.
Just bring good clothes and keep an eye out!