This blog post comes to you from the seat of a 7-hour-turned-9-hour train ride to Oslo. I can get a lot of things done in 7, I mean 9, hours if the couple of Norwegians in front of us would stop yapping. I sense a theme on trains…if you are over 65+ you just LOVE to chat with your seat mates. Our entire car is near quiet and the loudest people aren’t the 20-somethings. Nope, it’s the retirees who, if I understood Norwegian, are probably talking about that thing X they saw in that city Y, and did you know the daughter that you don’t know is pregnant, again.

 

Ok, back to the focus of this post, Iceland. A beautifully small and mighty country that has more green than Greenland, but with just a tip of ice that would make the Titanic have some PTSD flashbacks. But one thing’s for sure…I’ll never let go of you, Iceland.

For our first international stop, we flew from Boston to Reykjavik on WOW Airlines. WOW is the new and hip budget airline that starts out cheap, but like most budget airlines, charges you for everything, including water. Overall, the five-hour flight was pain-free, minus my neck, and we arrived on time at 4:20-ish am. Where am I? What time is it?

We picked up our rental car after pretty much just walking through immigration. Zero questions asked, zero fucks given. Welcome to Iceland. [Stamp]

We channeled our inner mainstream tourist and booked tickets to Blue Lagoon. With a few hours to kill before our booking, we drove the Icelandic countryside and had our first Icelandic meal at…Subway. Don’t judge, it was the only thing open at 6am and we were hungry.

With artisan sandwiches in our belly, we headed towards Blue Lagoon. And you know what? It was everything I hoped for when paying a buttload for a ticket.

The key is going early. We had a booking for the first time slot at 8am. It was so peaceful.

We soaked, we had one of our “complementary” alcoholic beverages, we applied some mud masks, we chilled (figuratively).

Yes, I know I look high in the above photo. Moving on. After a few hours, we took our jet-lagged, pruney bodies to our Airbnb in Reykjavik. Luckily, we were able to check in a bit early and we should’ve known that even touching the bed would result in a two hour nap. Jet lag is a bitch.

Semi-rested, we ventured out to explore the city. Our Airbnb was right in the city center so we were able to walk everywhere. Score.

And wouldn’t you know, during our walking adventure we found a bar honoring one of my favorite films.

That’s right, Iceland has a bar themed around The Big Lebowski,  which included different types of White Russians (I mean, Caucasians) and a bowling lane on the wall. Dude.

If it wasn’t so damn expensive in this country, and the winter wasn’t so bleak and depressing, I may consider moving to Reykjavik. But with drinks ranging around $25, this city is no cheap date and mama needs her cocktails.

The city of Reykjavik is quite beautiful. Filled with bright, colorful buildings (probably to boost the mood when winter comes and the sun rises at 11:30am and sets at 3:30pm). But I’ll take it.

There, seasonal affective disorder cured.

After our first night in Iceland, where we practically fell asleep at dinner, we were ready to explore the city…in the rain. I’m pretty sure the 7 days we were there, the sun came out once, and that was on our last day. I’ll consider that a going-away present. Thanks.

During our first full day, we booked our new-found fave, a “free” walking tour of the city. Our tour guide, Eiríkur, was beyond awesome. During the two-hour tour, I learned a lot of interesting things about Reykjavik and Iceland. I’ll share my top three.

1. Iceland is very pro-women. They had the first democratically-elected female President in the world…in the 80s! And something like half the seats in the government are filled by women. Girl power.
2. That being said, their naming convention is very not girl-power. Your last name is always your father’s first name, followed by son if you’re a boy, or dóttir if you’re a girl). So, if I were Icelandic, my name would totally be Britt Billdóttir. The daughter of Bill. Hmm. Then, if we were to have a boy, that boy would be called Danger Craigson. Not too bad.
3. Since Iceland is such a small country at 320,000-ish and with little immigration coming in (I believe around 95% of the country is Icelandic), it’s a running joke that you are probably going to marry your cousin. Neat.

During our first (and last) full day, we walked around some more to soak up sites the tour didn’t hit. Like viking vessel sculptures by the name of Sólfar (or Sun Voyager for you English-speaking people).

And we found a church that looks rather phallic, but oh-so pretty. Apologies, God.

We practiced our Viking/O face…

And tried on cozy hats that all the locals wear, right? I should be a model for sure.

Speaking of models, here’s one of Harpa Concert Hall, which was inside of Harpa.

After two wonderful nights in the bustling city, it was time to head to Southern Iceland. To the land of black sand beaches and glaciers (those totally go together). We booked a homestay in the small village of Vik. With a bumping population of 500, Vik is quaint to say the least. Our homestay was perfect (and yes, that’s a pirate flag you see below).

Our two hosts were super friendly and welcoming. So much so, we stayed up way past our bedtime the first night just chatting with them. They also had a dog so adorable, I really wanted to steal him.

The next day, we ventured east to Glacier Beach and we got there just before the fog (ah, makes me miss San Francisco) rolled in and completely hid the glaciers. But before that happened. This happened. Mother Nature, why you gotta be so cool?

Our last night, we had dinner at a place our host recommended. I will say, being a vegetarian in Iceland is tricky, at times. The smaller towns really just have lettuce with oil on it for $30. Yum. Guess I’ll just drink my dinner.

The next morning, we packed up, said our goodbyes, and visited the famous black sand beach that was only a five-minute walk from our homestay.

We (and by we, I mean Craig) had a long drive ahead of us that day. We were venturing to Western Iceland with stops along the way to break it up. Like gorge-ous views thanks to Fjaðrárgljúfur.

Next stop, one of the first hot public pools in Iceland.

The best part? It’s free if you can be bothered with a 15-minute hike to the secret/not-so-secret pool.

But with views like this along your hike…

And then being rewarded with this…

I can totally get down with the Icelandic way of life.

Full disclosure, the water isn’t hot. It’s like a lukewarm bathtub. But still…awesome.

Now let’s talk about roads. Most of the main tourist roads in Iceland are fine. A bit narrow, but manageable. That brings us to F roads. When you rent a car in Iceland, if you don’t do the four-wheel-drive option, they will tell you DO NOT drive on F roads. Um, ok? Well, our route to Western Iceland, wouldn’t you know it, took us to an F road. F. And they weren’t kidding about F roads. We looked ahead and thought hell no. It looked like a dirt bike track. Ok, Google. Alternate route that shit up.

The alt. route wasn’t much better. #GoogleMapsFail. I have zero pictures of it because I was tense the entire time. Driving on gravel roads in the middle of nowhere. Poor Craig. But we made it to our final destination. This.

It was so worth it. We spent two nights in this glamping pod that had everything we needed, including hot tubs and a restaurant on site. It was at this very restaurant that I had the best vegetarian meal of my Icelandic trip.

No, but seriously. The place we stayed at had a troll walk. The Airbnb host even wrote a book about trolls. It’s called Rock & Troll. I shit you not. Maybe he can be a guest blogger here at Roam Mode?

Our last two days in the beautiful country, we spent chasing waterfalls.

And making friends with natural blondes…

After six lovely days, it was time to leave beloved Iceland. But not without one amazing sunset, and one last visit to the troll walk. Where, rumor has it, if you put your hand in the trolls handprint, all your wishes will come true. Well, I wished that you would read this entire long, blabbing blog post…so I guess it came true.

Until next time, Iceland.

Norway, we’re coming for you. And I hope you like to cuddle.