Reykjavik: A Place I Didn’t Know I Loved Part Two

This is the follow-up and final part of my blogpost reflecting upon my recent and very first trip to Iceland. For the previous post, please click: here. As mentioned previously, this was a last-minute trip to a place that I had been planning to visit pretty much all my life and that I ended up loving and appreciating more than I thought I would.

Now I missed some important events due to poor planning, or rather, there had been certain restraints and limitations on my planning window. For instance, I had a podcast before my trip, and my son had a Red-Carpet film premiere after it. That meant that we would miss the solar eclipse (at that moment, we were on the plane) and the annual Culture Night (that was on the day of my son’s event at the Cinematheque). The latter would have to wait for another time (perhaps with a significant other?) while the former seemed more like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity although I did enter a hilarious Icelandair contest to win a trip to the next one!

The Golden Circle and Lava Tunnel Combo Tour

Just in case the Icelandic border agent is reading this, although I mentioned that I would visit the Blue Lagoon, in reality, I did not go there. It was not a conscious lie because the intention was indeed there, but then, various things made me change my mind. We went to its “discount” cousin, the geothermal pool at Nautholsvik, and it was rather chilly that day, so I refused to enter the water, but my brave son did so.

Then, there was naturally the issue of the cost and whether I would enjoy it that much because for me the beach or a spa is best enjoyed with a book in your hand and potentially a beer in the other. Also, if the Blue Lagoon was as blue (my favorite color) and as romantic as I imagined it, I would like to visit it with my forever love and would like it to be both our first times, a kind of equalizing force of wonder for each one of us.

Yet the Golden Circle was something I had firmly circled in my agenda. Why not throw in a lava tunnel for good measure? I bought both online and the first time, it did not go through as I had to confirm and verify the payment with my bank but the second time it worked all right. Now, usually you would expect a confirmation email, right? They also had my cell phone number, so I expected something like “thank you for your payment” or “see you in three days.” Was that too much to ask especially in the age of AI? Apparently, it was in Iceland, as I received nothing whatsoever and the silence was deafening and worrisome.

So naturally, I started panicking. The link to the tour had come from a brochure off a QR code. Now as a rule and for apparent safety, I do not use my phone for any payments, but I did not have a choice here. The company was a place that actually existed and I knew this for a fact because it was the same one I had bought the airport bus tickets from.

And yet, the voice of doubt was whispering in my ear. A Google search made matters worse as someone claimed that this was a scam. I tried to log into the website, and they wanted me to put in my confirmation number I had received in the email. Yeah, what email? There was none in the junk mail and I checked it at least twice.

In such moments, I reach out for tech help and fortunately, my tech guy was there with me. First, he complained about Apple but somehow, through history, he managed to locate the previous page I had made the transaction on and that site did come with confirmation of the trip. Now I could breathe a sigh of relief and look forward to the tour.

The tour started with the lava tunnel and that was quite interesting in and by itself. It was about an hour away from the bus terminal and our driver dropped us off in the middle of nowhere telling us that he would do to the Mega Zipline, but he should be back in time to pick us up by 11. We had to catch our next tour bus at 12:30 to do the Golden Circle so we would have ample time, I thought.

Before entering the lava tunnel or tube as it is alternatively called, our tour guide provided us with helmets equipped with lights and we all felt like miners. Unlike the other guide, ours made sure the helmet was fastened securely and that the lights were on. Then, he told us that we would only go through the first third of the tunnel and that there was not much of a climb throughout. That was music to my ears.

Entering the tunnel was quite impressive. The guide shared with us that there was no echo in the tunnel due to holes that would absorb the sound and this was the reason why we would not encounter any bats; they needed echo location to get around. Another interesting tidbit was the Hawaiian name for hot lava, which was Ah-Ah. And this was because when you walked on it, you would scream in pain and utter those exact words.

As we reached the endpoint of the tour and were about to return, one of the tourists asked how safe the tunnel was. Our guide paused for a bit and with a smirk said: “Are you sure you want me to answer your question here and now? Would it perhaps not be a better idea to talk about this after we return?”

But it was too late. The cat was out of the bag, and we were all curious to know more. He told us that nothing was absolutely safe (true that), but that it was relatively safe. The tunnel was regularly inspected by geologists who gave a thumbs up but as almost every region on this island, safety could not be guaranteed. I imagined how lava could burst out and spill over like a pressure cooker as if it was the unbridled power of the unconscious, in this case even collective unconscious, which could on one hand destroy whole villages, while on the other hand shape wonderful and visit-worthy geographical shapes like the tunnel we were walking inside of.

Now after making us feel slightly queasy after his speech, he added, “Do you guys want to see what absolute darkness looks like?” and like a bunch of elementary schools on a field trip, barring and swiping away any uncomfortable thoughts of doom and disasters of merely moments ago, we all responded in the affirmative. He found the light switch and then left us all in the dark. We are talking pitch dark where you cannot see the hands before your eyes and no one dared to talk with only sporadic non-echoing sighs and whispers of awe all around us.

This was not my first experience of pitch blackness but certainly the first time standing up. Previously, I was floating in a sensory deprivation tank but this time around it was even stranger not to see anything or anyone around. I was thinking that although I could not see my son, I knew he was there, not unlike Peter Falk in my favorite movie of all time Wings of Desire, where he states to an angel (a colleague of sorts), “I can’t see you, but I know you’re there.”

After a good minute of voluntarily imposed darkness, the artificial light inside the tunnel returned and we made our way back. There would have been more to explore but this was the end of the road for us and this tour. The rest was not as secure and convenient since it did not have ramps and stairs and was meant for adventure seekers with sturdier shoes. Mine were certainly not up to par. My son was already heading in that direction of the unknown joining some of the other non-touring adventurers and I had to call him back to safety.

There was a certain amount of excitement to see natural sun light streaming through the opening of the entrance of the tunnel. It was the inverse, relief to see light at the beginning of the tunnel and that officially ended our lava tunnel tour. We were just waiting for the zip lining bus driver to return so that we could take the bus back to the terminal. There was ample time left at the time, and I was already envisioning the delicious pizza slices of our first day in Reykjavik and was excited to indulge in them for a second time. We had lunch waiting for us before we were to embark upon the second even larger tour.

But the bus would not come. We were all waiting, confused. At some point, I wondered if he had left with some of the people leaving the rest of us behind. Then I saw other fellow travelers and realized that we were, for better or worse, all in this together. I was worried about the connecting bus and noticing it was getting way too close for comfort. Scrap the pizza, lunch would have to consist of pepperoni sticks on the fly.

There was a sense of excitement and relief when we saw the bus suddenly appear in this vast and empty landscape. We were saved! All of us knew that a cab back would have cost us a fortune even if it were split four ways! My concern was to arrive there in time for the second tour. The bus driver announced to all of us partaking in the Golden Circle that we need not worry. He would tell them to wait for us. I smiled.

An hour later, with five minutes left, he turned the corner to reach the terminal. And suddenly, he said, “Those continuing with the Golden Circle tour, please hurry now to reach the bus before it takes off. It’s the only tour bus on your right.” So much for letting them know and them waiting for us! There were about five buses on our right, most of them were shuttles to the airport, but we ended up getting on our Golden Circle bus on time.

The tour guide we had was very interesting and quite knowledgeable and shared so much with us that the rather long bus ride was pleasant enough. Unlike the other bus where we were not allowed to eat and we had to wear seat belts (“it’s the law here in Iceland!” the zip line bus driver had told us), we were free to eat while enjoying the scenery unfolding in front of our eyes.

First off, our guide told us that it used to be called the Golden Triangle because there were three points of visit, a trifecta. The name “Golden” came from one of the waterfalls Goldenfloss and it was the first stop of the tour. Yet for some reason, anglophone tourists had not been comfortable with triangles. Might be that it brought up painful memories of geometry class or that the most known triangle, the Bermuda one was not a place anyone would like to visit, or maybe even due to aesthetic grounds as it had a more complete and wholesome quality to it, the circle was adopted and remained for all the years to come.

The waterfall did not disappoint. When we stopped, I was wondering where the waterfall was as it was not immediately visible in a showy grand way. We had to walk a bit until it magically and majestically appeared before our eyes. It was absolutely amazing and breathtaking. Another force of nature but this time, it was not fire but water.

The second stop was a geyser, and the guide said that this was one of the cases like Hoover or Kleenex where the brand name stuck and became to designate the thing itself. Geysir was actually the name of a town that had geysers, but it was not the only place as there were other geysers all around, even as far away as Bolivia; yet the name stuck for a reason. He also let us know that it was not a good idea to get too close to them as their temperature could reach up to a whopping 250 degrees Celsius.

Around the geyser that erupted every dozen minutes or so, there were quite a few people in wait, their phones drawn and their fingers on the trigger to capture the moment it occurred. I was certainly one of them. We were fishing for geysers, and it was actually surprisingly quiet all round as everyone was anticipating the big moment and no one had an idea when it would arise. The geyser was cordoned off so there was no real risk to any of the attendants, but I was too far away to get any spray on me. It was impressive to the see the geyser burst forth all of a sudden and then turn into hot steam almost as quickly.

The third and final stop was the tectonic ridge that represented the separating point between two continental rifts: Europe meeting North America. As it was a common tourist thing to do - and to later brag about - I also could not resist the pull to have one foot in Europe with the other situated in North America. It was amazing how volcanic activity alongside constantly moving plates had shaped and given form to the landscape in front of us.

After this, we made our way back to Reykjavik. Our guide also shared other interesting tidbits of information on patronyms. In Iceland, you would know the name of the father of each person as it would include son or daughter of so-and-so. It sounded complicated and may be a bureaucratic nightmare, but it was not an uncommon thing.

We all know names that end in son, and it represents exactly what it means. I asked the guide why there was often an extra s, and he said it was because of the genitive denoting possession. This way of naming used to be a common practice in Ireland as well with the examples of O’ denoting the person’s name. The Scottish equivalent would be Mac.

In the late afternoon, our Golden Circle was complete, and we were back in Reykjavik at square one. There was a warm glow around us from all the natural beauty we had witnessed in the span of a day, and I was happy to try to document it with various pictures and a few short videos. And this post is yet another way of showing my respect and appreciation for such majestic landscapes.

Returning Home and Arrival in Vancouver

Our final evening was a movie night. I searched for Icelandic movies and to my surprise, Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga with Will Ferrell and Rachel McAdams showed up. Although we had both already seen the film on Netflix, we had not put two and two together. I had not realized that Iceland was being represented as to my then slightly more ignorant mind, all Scandinavian countries blended into one big blob.

With the pizza (we had both lamb and pepperoni but on separate pizzas), tortilla chips with guacamole (the former was good, the latter not so much) and Icelandic beer (Gull and it was surprisingly good), we looked forward to seeing Iceland and Icelandic people represented in the film while still being in Reykjavik. I almost applauded when the surtitle mentioned the capital. The film was shot in Husavik, a seaport town that gained some touristic following after the film, but sadly, it was too late and too far away for us to visit.

I found the movie did a surprisingly good job of representing Icelandic essence. Yes, elves play an important role in their mentality. I had read that most Icelanders with their wicked sense of humour and slight mischief did quite enjoy the film just as we did. Sure, it was strange to have North Americans playing Icelanders but there were some Icelanders in the film too, notably the guy who was always ecstatic and kept asking for the “Jaja Ding Dong” song to be played. It was a good and appropriate way to wrap up our stay, and we knew that the next day we would have to get up before dawn to make our way to the bus terminal.

It was very quiet and peaceful at around 5 am as we made our way through the city for one last time. There were no tourists in sight, but it was a whole different story at the bus terminal where a lot of them were also on their way to the airport. It turned out that the 5:30 bus was more popular than I had imagined and that we were not the only people on that trip as I had falsely imagined.

Evidently, tourists were an important lifeline for the economy in Iceland, and everything was not only prepared for them but also geared towards them. From the various souvenir shops to almost everything costing money, there was little respite for the city to catch a breath and truly be itself, at least in the summer time. There were some Icelanders, but we ended up running into more Germans and Italians. I was wondering what the place felt like outside of the tourist season.

At the airport, the security line was long, and I was glad that we had a good three hours before our flight. My son had an unopened Collab can - a popular energy drink - that he was planning to drink later on. Sadly enough, it turned out that we could not take it with us. The security personnel asked if I wanted to check it in. I said, no, but was wondering whether my son could drink it. Only if we went back, he said, and that idea did not appeal at all. So, I let the security person have the can.

But the question was, where on Earth was my son because as we passed through, I lost sight of him. It had been rather hectic trying to gather all the stuff together, my wallet, belt, iPhone, my son’s iPad and my own laptop alongside my backpack, which had been flagged for some reason but once the security lady saw me, she just said it was fine without any additional comment.

Finally, I saw my son come through and he told me that they had pulled him aside and had done a random test on him. They had used swabs on his hands and his pants.

“What for?”

My son shrugged.

“And why you? And not me?”

He shrugged again. Then, I shared with him the unfortunate news. “Your Collab did not make it!”

“Not a problem. It didn’t taste that good either.”

The whole boarding process was very different in Iceland, much less structured and way more confusing. We had to wait in line, and they did not go through the different zones as we were accustomed to, but it was first-come first-serve. Then, we had to climb up to the next level but fortunately, they had an escalator, which made it somewhat easier to transport our carry-on luggage.

Oddly enough, the flight back was longer, but it did break into two flights of equal length and I appreciated the symmetry. It was five hours to Montreal and then five back to Vancouver. We had a layover of two and a half hours in Montreal, but it went by so quickly, mainly because the customs in Montreal did eat up a sufficient amount of time.

On both flights, we were entertained by movies and shows. My son got closer to ending his Breaking Bad binge, while I watched a standup show by Remy Youssef, which I found both interesting and amusing and then watched Jafar Panahi’s It Was Just an Accident, which started off confusing but then it grew on me, and I would definitely recommend it despite the shaky start.

As we arrived in Vancouver, I had two sets of feelings. On one hand, I was of course happy to be back home. I felt that life over there was not sustainable and I also missed home and its many comforts. And at the same time, I could have easily stayed longer in Reykjavik, a city that I fell in love with. Unlike Paris, it was not at first sight, but it kept growing on me as it worked its subtle and unique charm on me.

Like Paris, I found it a very idyllic and romantic place filled with life and culture. There was both an oddness and a certain unpredictability, which I also appreciated. I could imagine myself going back for another visit, maybe in a year or so but I also wished to make the trip with a special someone experiencing Iceland with her by my side. I could see us strolling around Tjörnin lake, visit the Golden Circle together, and that time around, add the Blue Lagoon to our list of places to visit.