Day 15 – The flight home, Reykjavík to Boston, some reflections on Iceland and the trip
Bright and sunny today, high 50s to 60, almost too warm! Have we acclimated?
Another delicious breakfast at Apotek, then we go our separate ways. Warren and I to the airport after last-minute souvenir shopping; Steve, David, and Danny leave on their Golden Circle tour by rental car. From the pictures, it looks like they got to the Blue Lagoon.
We have an easy scheduled bus ride to the airport and painless processing of our tax refunds. If you spend more than 6,000ISK (about $60) on goods at a time ask for and save the receipt – much of that tax is refundable at kiosks in the airport. One last lunch of pylsa in the airport and stop at the duty-free. It’s hard not to pick up more of the delectable snacks we’ve been enjoying the past two weeks, especially the rúgbrauð. I wish I had a cooler to bring back more of that bread, lamb pâté, and smoked salmon spread. Warren looks to be thinking the same thing, eyeing the smoked fish. There’s a Scandinavian specialty shop near where I live that claims to import Icelandic foods so that may be a source in the future (update – it doesn’t). As it was, I picked up some Icelandic alcohol to share back home – Björk, a birch liqueur not named after the Sugarcubes singer, a killer Icelandic gin called Himbrimi, Brennivin of course, and Linie, a Norwegian sea-aged aquavit we enjoyed on the trip.
Iceland is a beautiful and quiet place. The pace is slower, more laid back and accepting of the uncertainties life presents. There’s a common phrase in Icelandic, þetta reddast, which could be the national motto. Loosely translated it means “things will work out.”
It’s easy to get around here, not just due to the lack of crowds or great signage, but because no one except the 300,000 residents speaks Icelandic, everyone speaks English.
So many people were interested in the bikes, how they got here, and our journey and weren’t shy about asking. I’ve experienced that on every motorcycle trip. Maybe it’s because others recognize the vulnerability of motorcycle riding that they feel compelled to approach and engage; maybe it’s they too relish the adventure and want to share in it even in some small part.
Iceland is also a very clean place, even in the City Centre party district in Reykjavík. Each morning street cleaners and sweepers make it a new day. Just in time for the early morning flood of tourists from the overnight flights.
We also saw no poverty in our two weeks around the island. Everyone seems to be doing OK. We didn’t see a single panhandler (or busker for that matter) the entire trip. There’s a sense – projected by this observer or not – that the citizenry for all their individual independence is really in this together. Maybe that’s due to the lack of diversity; this is truly a unique and homogenous group of people. Maybe it’s due to their living on an island and having to be independent and cooperative to survive. Whatever the reason, it’s refreshing and, I must admit, I’m more than a little envious.
For food, there’s lots of lamb and fish. Vegetables and fruits aren’t a big focus of the meals we’ve had. What they do have comes from geothermally-warmed hothouses on the island. Not so great for tomatoes by the way, which were kind of pale and tasteless to be frank.
Hamburgers, hot dogs, and fries are everywhere and seem to be the default selection wherever there’s food to be had. If there’s anything else, it’ll be the delicious lamb soup to start. And Icelanders really do love their pylsa. So too fish & chips, which are just as delicious.
I was also struck by the lack of disposable items – even gas station restaurants all use real plates, silverware, glasses, etc. – except, oddly, for the flimsy super-thin plastic bags at market checkouts. And you bag your own groceries. Always.
Sunny days here in the mid- to high-50s feel hot! Oddly, indoors seem to be kept almost too warm. We get cold outside, hot inside.
Navigation was easy on Iceland. Maybe it’s the old sailor in me, but I carry and covet paper maps, which are readily available at all tourist info places. Partly for backup, but I find it hard to explore a place, get a sense of direction or the lay of the land from the narrow view electronic maps show. Those seem intent on getting you from point A to point B rather than helping you figure out what point B should be or enjoying the journey getting there. Still, the open source GPS files available are very good and Google Maps never failed. Mobile coverage is superb across the island, even in the remotest areas we visited.
Icelandic sweaters have that earthy palette because the wool isn’t dyed; the colours you see are the natural colours of the sheep and, I think, reflect and are tied wonderfully to the land from which they originate. And Icelanders really wear them. They’re needed, even in summer.
I’m already thinking about the next trip… There’s a ferry from Seydisfjördur on the east coast to Denmark. Two days. And it takes motorcycles. If we can get to Denmark, we can get to Asia. Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia is about 5,000 miles. If we can get to Ulaanbaatar, we can get to Vladivostok via the Trans-Siberian Highway. If we can get to Vladivostok, we can get a ferry to Japan. If we can get a ferry to Japan, we can get a freighter to Alaska…