the road abroad.: (PR)ICELAND!

REYJKAVIK, ICELAND

The flight to Iceland from Boston was a piece of cake. It takes longer to drive to NY for Pete's sake! As the landing gear was coming down, I felt an unfamiliar feeling in my stomach- complete and utter anxiety. I didn’t want to land. I was not ready for what waited on the other side of customs. And I don’t mean ‘not ready’ in the sense that I didn’t have my trip logistics and accommodations planned. I knew I hadn’t planned any of that. I mean 'not ready' in terms of mental preparation. I was unprepared for my head to start racing on where to go, how to go, and when to go. I didn’t want to worry about my next meal or sleeping arrangement. My European adventure was beginning and I just wanted to ride the baggage claim carousel until I could wrap my head around it all.

I made a friend from my flight who was originally from the Ukraine but now lived in Stoneham, MA. He was visiting Iceland for two weeks in order to workout with other global athletes. It wasn’t any kind of professional group…just some strong guys that wanted to get stronger in a different country. It seemed like a long way to go just to do P90X with some strangers but to each his own. I left him and headed to the tourism booth at the airport. Here I met the tourism officer, Sven, who turned out to be the most important person I met in Iceland.

Sven was 27 years old and was extremely passionate about cooking. He loved food and had studied 8 years to become a chef. The day after graduation, he found out that he had over 135 allergies and would never be allowed to cook again. Tough break, huh?! He wallowed for quite a bit of time before making drastic changes in his career. He now manages the tourism booth at the airport and serves as a part-time hero to people like me. I found a little corner in his shop where I could sift through the 20 maps, brochures and booklets Sven had thrown at me. I had arrived at midnight so I thought it was wiser to sleep in the airport rather than walk the foreign streets of Reykjavik alone looking for a hostel. As I came to find out, I couldn’t even have stayed in a hostel if I wanted to- it was high season and everything was booked. I wasn't used to this concept- there was always room in Oceania.

              Through Sven’s valiant effort, I was able to solidify a hostel for the next night but was floored by the prices! It was $45 for a 20 bed hostel with no kitchen. Iceland should have been called Pr-Iceland!! This only aggravated my anxiety. I think Sven took some pity on me because he eventually invited me along for a white water rafting trip two days later with two of his friends. I could tag along and meet some locals while swallowing lots of ice cold glacier water- cool! When Sven’s shift was up at 2:30am, I made my way toward the terminals to see what kind of sleeping space I could find. Low and behold there were about 25 other backpackers up there with the same idea! I befriended a 19 year old German girl in the bathroom who taught me the lay of the Iceland airport; You were allowed to make yourself comfortable but if you actually fell asleep, security would poke you. I opened my sleeping bag and made myself “comfortable” on the concrete floor with low expectations for resting. Anxiety must induce sleep because I woke up at 8:45am to a bustling airport and no other backpackers in sight. Who sleeps for 6 solid hours on concrete?? And how was I not sore afterwards?
            I took the bus into the city and was still filled with a lot of fear. I sat next a VERY annoying American who wouldn’t shut up. His goal was to visit over 100 countries in his life, which he would probably reach on his current trip. However, he seemed more successful at irritating the crap out of me as he bragged about each one. Every sentence started with, “Well when I was in Zimbabwe….” or “You haven’t experienced mussels if you haven’t been to Helsinki…” or “I found St. Petersburg to be somewhat overrated…” My nerves were fried by the time I met the next guy who was from Washington. This guy was my saving grace. I didn't even catch his name but I felt just a smidge more confident after talking to him for 5 minutes. He had a kind demeanor that subsided the heavy tears filling up under my eyes. Thanks, stranger.
            I checked into the Guesthouse Pavi where there were over 20 beds cornered off in a cubicle formation. Hmm, this was different! No bunk beds and more privacy than I was expecting. I regrouped, stared myself down in the mirror for a bit and set out to take on Reykjavik! I visited the massive organ at the Hallgrimskirkja church but wasn’t impressed with the plain pews and altar. This was clearly just a warm up for what to expect in the rest of Europe. I made my way down the charming main strip of Reykjavik before running into a kid named Jamie, who looked familiar from the airport the night before. He was from New Zealand while his friend Jorge was from Espana. We all had some cheap eats in a grassy park while an Icelandic band played.  I left them to meet my 2:00 with the Economic Advisor within the US Embassy. Thanks to a connection through my brother-in-law, Brian, I gained an American contact in Iceland and learned more about the economic developments between America and Iceland. Meredith Rubin was really nice and even helped me plan the next few days of my trip!
              I walked up to the impressive landmark building of Perlan where I skipped the less than impressive museum and headed straight to the top where the exterior platform overlooked the small city of Reykjavik. It was pretty nice I guess but only reassured me that the real sights were in the countryside. I'd have to wait a couple days for that.
             I met up again with my new backpacker friends and spent the rest of the night in the geothermic swimming pools within the city center. They had a sick enclosed water slide that shined psychedelic light patterns as you went down. Needless to say we were cutting kids in line and making human trains all night long! I walked back to the house they were couchsurfing at and enjoyed some smoked meat (an Icelandic favorite) before walking back to my hostel after sunset (around 11:15pm!) I had just missed the month of midnight sun.
               I was shocked when I woke up at 9:40 the next morning! That’s a new hostel record! With 20 people shifting around in the early hours, it’s unthinkable to sleep that late. Sven arrived right on time with his two massive friends Andri and Steini (each about 6’5” and 260 lbs) and we all pulled into a gas station for some breakfast on the run. They insisted that I try skyr, which is just a thicker form of yogurt. It took some effort to get past the thicker texture and I politely hid my gags. Back in the car though, they made me try dried fish, which was the seafood version of beef jerky. It was absolutely disgusting and I didn't hide it! Then they had me try some other lump of raw meat. I swear they’re going to sit around in the years to come and say, ‘Remember that time we made that American girl eat dog food and we said it was an Icelandic delicacy?!’ It was so gross.
               Whitewater rafting in the glacial waters in northern Iceland was freaking freezing but definitely thrilling. The air temperature was about 15 C and the water temperature was only 4 so my only chance of survival was if I stuck the big guys in the front of the raft. Genius! They blocked most water from coming into the boat and, more importantly, onto me. I got through Class III, IV, and IV+ rapids alive but refused to partake in the cliff jumping toward the end of the trip. I love cliff jumping but I was frozen to the core already. I really didn’t need my hair to be wet for the next 5 hours thank-you-very-much. Sven did his best to throw me in the river within the last 45 minutes in the boat. They were speaking Icelandic to disguise their plan but I knew what was up. Thank God Andri and Steini have big hearts because I know they could have thrown me in easily.
               We got back around 1am and Andri graciously offered me the spare bedroom in his parents’ apartment! We had sat next to each in the car for about 3.5 hours, then a bus ride for 45 mins, then a raft for 3 hours, then a bus ride back, and finally a car ride back. And it wasn’t until we get to his house that he tells me that his parents were actually in Boston visiting his aunt who lives in Rhode Island and he was going to fly over in a few days to meet them! HOW DO YOU NOT TELL ME THAT EARLIER IN THAT DAY??? I was thrilled to hear about our most recent connection! Andri was such a nice guy and he even offered me his car for the next day while he was at work. This is when the story gets good…

So he drove me 45 minutes out to his work and told me that the speedometer was broken so I would just have to keep the RPMs under 3 to stay around the speed limit. That’s when I looked down and realized I was in trouble- the car was a MANUAL. I’m female…and American…I don’t drive manual! I mean, I had done it a few times, so I was FAMILIAR with how it would work but I had no real experience. I stayed quiet as my mind raced on how the hell I was going to get myself through this. Andri also told me the door locks were broken so don’t bother locking them or else I may not get them open again. Oh, oh and the seat adjuster was also broken so it was in a position to accommodate someone of his Viking stature….not mine. So he rushed into work and I stuffed jackets and a sleeping back behind my back just so I could reach the petals. I threw it into what looked like reverse and listened to that familiar (and unhealthy) rev of the engine before it stalled out. I tried again and actually reversed while maintaining control! YEA!! Maybe I can figure this out after all. Nope, three more stalls later I realized that the emergency break was still on. Three more stalls after that I suspected that I really wasn’t in first gear. Andri must have heard the stalling because he came out and saw me still in the parking lot. He admitted that it was hard to find first gear so he got it in there and I successfully zoomed away. My heart was pounding, my head was racing, my mouth was swearing and my deodorant was working.

I coasted through the stop signs on the deserted ex-American army base, made it through a desolate roundabout and drove about 10 miles on the highway to the famous Blue Lagoon spa. I missed a turn and found myself stalling out diagonally across the two lane highway as I attempted a 17 point turn. I was such a failure! I finally got to the lagoon and picked the farthest parking spot so I would have plenty of room to stall out later. I was beyond stressed out- this was a nightmare!! I needed geothermal water and silica mud masks STAT!

                 All the locals that I had met thought I was a fool for paying up for the crowded Blue Lagoon but it undoubtedly lived up to the hype! The pale blue, milky waters were surrounded by natural volcanic rock and humans of all ages were experiencing what Austin Powers would describe as ‘extreme relaxation’. I saw a woman with, what looked like, massive amounts of white sunscreen on her face and thought it looked pretty odd. Then I realized it was the white silica that was available in buckets around the giant pool. I lathered up and made a beeline for a relaxing corner away from all the people. Usually one can spot tourists by their clueless meandering and complete disregard for anyone but themselves. They tear through an area and mumble ‘excuse me’ and ‘sorry’ but never really mean it. This was no different. The Blue Lagoon was 100% tourists and I was impressed how the same disregard applied. When you’re wading through water at a quarter of the speed you walk, you really shouldn’t run into anyone.
               I ended up randomly meeting Jorge at the lagoon as well as a guy from my hostel, Shai. I recruited them for my day trip around the Golden Circle and was happy to hear that Jorge knew how to drive stick!! Praise God, I thought. It turned out he wasn’t comfortable driving over 40 mph so I ended up driving anyways. But at least I had a chaperon now! We made our way out to Geysir (Iceland’s most popular geyser that blows every 5 minutes) and Gulfoss (Europe’s largest waterfall)! The guys had seen them both the day before but thought it was worth another trip so that really says something about their beauty! We didn’t make it to Thingvellir which is said to be the world’s first parliament as well as the unique location where the tectonic plates meet in Iceland. The plates expand about 5cm per year so Iceland is actually getting stretched from east to west! How neat.
                   I had to drop the guys off in the city center, which meant I would be on my own for the 45 minute ride out to the airport to pick up Andri. I only stalled at two lights and was only laughed at by two cars so I was seeing huge improvement! I picked up Andri and cooked him a very modest pasta dinner to thank him for his ‘clutch’ hospitality. He’s a pretty acclaimed chef so I can only assume he was being polite by stomaching my cooking!
                     I was completely exhausted from my day of manual driving but also felt a great sense of accomplishment. It was a sink or swim moment and I @#$%ing swam! I am no longer limited by stick shift and that feels GREAT. It made me realize that I don’t want to be limited by anything. What a terrible feeling to have no options or to have to rely on someone else. I guess that's what this trip is all about and I’m glad I found it along the roads of Iceland! I wasn’t even looking for it so maybe I was just lucky that it found me.