Sunday, August 12, 2012

This Ain't No Lady Hike In the Park and Other Adventures

Saturday, August 11th, 2012

I am very grateful I am not the type of person who has trouble sleeping in new places. I slept like a log or a rock or whatever figure of speech you can imagine for a solid 10 hours to make up for my lack of sleep the day before. With some vanilla skyr (I'm already dreading what my life will be like without it once I go home) for breakfast I was ready to face the day.

Bogga, Eidur, and I went down to the harbor to fish around 10:30. Eidur's mother Thorhildur joined us too. We stopped and said hello to Bryndis and Gunnar on the way (more womderful cousins). I spent several afternoons with them last summer and this visit I will be staying with their daughter Selma Osk in Reykjavik.

It was another warm and sunny day, but the fish were not biting. We went to the shop to have lunch and I got to see Lisa. Stebbi was not there, but I got to see him later. For those of you that don't remember, Lisa and Stebbi were my Snorri host cousins last summer here in Faskrudsfjordur. It is their daughter, Bogga, and her family that I am staying with this time.







After lunch, Bogga, her husband Elvar and I decided to "ganga a fjall" (walk the mountains). Last summer I managed Sandfell, which I thought, at 750 meters high, was quite a challenge. The mountain of choice for this walk was called Hoffell (hof-fet-l) and stands 1100+ meters high. Not only is it taller, it is meaner and rockier. It started off quite lovely, with lots of moss and blueberry bushes. By hour 3 it was nothing but rocks and sand and cliffs that had me clinging to rock faces and trying to fend off a panic attack. Despite the occasional terror and tired legs it was fun to climb and the views were spectacular from the top. There is something incredibly satisfying about reaching that tip top point and knowing that despite how sore you will be tomorrow, you followed through and managed to do what you set out to do. We signed the guest book, with the right date this time (there was a slight mixup on Sandfell last summer). There were not many names in the book, and after having struggled up the mountain I understood why.












My least favorite part of a mountain climb, just like last summer is that you aren't done when you reach the top. You still have to get back down, which can be even scarier than climbing up. Again I heard Bogga utter the terrifying phrase, "Just slide down on the little rocks. It is easiest." Gah. I considered twisting an ankle so a rescue helicopter could be called to bring me to the bottom.


By the time we got back to the car we had been walking and climbing and tripping for 7 hours and I was spent. If not for some chocolate during our brief rests I don't think I would have made it. Warning, nerd moment: Just like in Harry Potter with chocolate helping cancel out the ill effects of the Dementors, it also helps restore health to exhausted hikers. I slept very well again that night.


Sunday, August 12th, 2012

Bogga, Thorhildur and I planned a girls trip up to Thorhildur's mountain cabin off the Oxi Pass. Dad, you know where I mean. This was our accidental shortcut through the mountains when we did the ring road. We got to the off roading portion of the drive up in the mountains and had to turn back because of the fog. We could have made it but there wouldn't have been anything to see. Instead we took the long way home, stopping here and there to take in the sights. We did a little rock collecting in a dry stream bed and stopped to explore a gorgeous gorge. The fog lingered at the top of the mountains but it was still a stunning landscape. The road brought us to Reyðarfjörður where we bought a one time use grill and lighter so we could make the lunch we had planned to eat at the mountain cabin. We drove to Kolmuli, a family farm owned by Bogga and Thorhildur's grandfather to have a little cookout. Pylsa og Prince Polo, já.






I was thoroughly carsick by the time we got back to Bogga's house so I took a little nap before dinner. I felt much better afterwards, which is good because I refuse to waste time here feeling sick. There was some excitement in the middle of dinner when Elvar was making more garlic bread in the microwave and the microwave caught on fire. I am told these things only happen when I come to visit. Thorhildur suggested they find a filmmaker to follow Bogga and I around to document all the little disasters that seem to happen in my presence.


Tomorrow we drive to Ásbyrgi where we will camp and I will get to see the waterfall, Dettifoss, and the national park there. Can't wait!



Friday, August 10, 2012

The Blog Comes Back

At the request of an attentive audience (Dad and cousin Jackie) the blog is back for trip number 3 to Iceland. I cannot guarantee that I will write in as much detail as last time but I'll at least start out strong.


Well, I made it. After what seems like an eternity without sleep (36 hours + in reality) I'm still clinging to my excitement but am starting to lose mental acuity, so this may or may not be real sensical.

My plan to sleep on the plane so that my it would seem to my internal clock that it really was 6:30am upon arrival in Iceland was a total failure. I took my seat (12a for those of you wondering) and instantly became the poster child for Restless Leg Syndrome. I'm sure the lady next to me was thrilled with her seat assignment. A few times I fell into some sort of strange dozy state that helped to pass the time, but I can't say it was REM quality. My tv screen was also no help, as it was frozen on the language screen for the entire flight. Islensku? English? I would have been happy with Mandarin if it meant I could watch The Hunger Games or listen to some Jonsi. Despite two reboots of the system it wasn't going to happen. To distract myself I flailed around in my seat every 2 and a half minutes and flashed between being freezing cold and suffocatingly hot for 6 hours.

I made the 7:10am Fly Bus into Reykjavik where I was met by the newly Iceland-inhabiting Stefan Hermanowicz, Snorri colleague extraordinaire. I can't measure how jealous I am of his new living situation, just a short walk from downtown. After a solid skyr breakfast and some catching up, Asta Sol stopped by to chat and to bring me a SIMM card for the phone I will be using whilst here. Stefan and I followed that up with a walk around downtown and a pylsa/coke for lunch.

Asta Sol returned to bring me to the domestic airport for my flight to Faskrudsfjordur around 12:30 for a 12:45 flight. I love the domestic airport here. You can run in last minute, tell the front desk your name, they throw your bags on the belt with a sticker, hand you a boarding pass and send you outside to the tarmac to find your plane. No security, no waiting. I caught a solid 20 minutes of sleep on the 50 minute flight out east and felt pretty good. Despite my nagging fear that a plane that small (even smaller than the one from last year) couldn't possibly stay in the air all the way across Iceland, I was amazed at the view of the country below. I'm pretty sure I saw either Askja or Viti (or some equally impressive volcano lake), and Herðubreið. Gorgeous.

Bogga and her niece Arna picked me up in Egilsstadir and we did some shopping before heading home. It was a balmy 25 degree (Celsius) day here. Hot! Record breaking I think. The landscape here is so breathtaking no matter the weather, but this was an exceptional day to arrive. I can't exactly describe the wonderful way the air smells, but it is some perfect mix of water and mountain and moss and home.

Adorable Eidur came by to see me and spent the afternoon telling me, "Mallory, komdu!" in his efforts to show me this and that. He is doing his best to teach me more Icelandic as mine seems not to have improved much (ahem...at all) since I left last summer.
He showed me some Justin Bieber cover songs on YouTube that both horrified and impressed me and then after a mouthwatering grilled lamb dinner we watched Pippi Longstocking cartoons. Pippi (called Lina in Iceland) bridged the language gap.

I'm not sure what is on deck for tomorrow. Berry picking in the mountains maybe. Or maybe I can walk along the fjord to see if I can see the whales that have been hanging around. Either option sounds pretty spectacular to me.

Sunday, July 24, 2011

The End of a Grand Adventure

They say all good things must come to an end. I hoped for 6 weeks that that wouldn't be the case, but this past Friday was faced with the reality of the situation. It was time to go back to Minnesota. Saying goodbye to Iceland, my Snorris and all my other new friends was extremely difficult and I didn't manage to do it without shedding more than a few tears. I have nothing but wonderful things to say about my experience with the Snorri Program and would strongly recommend it to any 18 to 28 year old Western Icelanders. Don't even think twice about it, just send in an application. You won't regret it. When I got back on Friday evening and was met at the airport by my parents, my mom asked me, "So you loved it? Every single minute of it?" and I was able to say with complete sincerity that "Yes, I loved every minute. And I wish I was back there right now."
The last week of the trip was magical. Being back with the group and getting to spend time with them seeing such beautiful parts of Iceland was unforgettable. It was enough just to be back together, but the adventures we got to have were amazing.

We traveled around in a 17 passenger van with a sturdy trailer attached to the back to carry all of our luggage. Snorris don't pack light. For some of the more long-legged of the group it was less than comfortable. This was an instance that I was thrilled to be vertically challenged. I had no problem curling up just about anywhere. Our first morning we were all running pretty slow as we had gone out for a final sampling of Reykjavik's nightlife and were working on about 3 hours of sleep. You can sleep when you're dead, right? Or on a van between adventure stops.



That day we went on a seaside hike on the Snaefellsnes peninsula, went deep down into the Vatnshellir caves, spend a couple of beautiful hours on the rocky beach of Djupalonssandur, and even visited the farm where Iceland's famous rotten shark is made. We stayed in Stykkisholmur that first night and I think the highlight for me that day was sitting at the top of the little mountain in the harbor at about midnight, watching the sun "set" with a few of my Snorris. It was a beautiful moment and the perfect way to end a perfect day.
We had more down time on the second day of the tour. We took a ferry to the island of Flatey. There is a church and and an old library building that we toured that are guarded by flocks of kria. Kria are a kind of bird and when they feel that their nests are threatened they dive bomb you. I got clipped in the head by one of them when I wasn't prepared.





Then, we spent the entire afternoon with nothing to do until the ferry came back to bring us on the next leg of the journey. It was a nice day luckily, and we explored the beaches and sat on the cliffs talking and laughing and napping. Though it was a nice afternoon we were all more than thrilled when we got to leave Flatey and move onto the West Fjords. Our van was waiting for us there and we drove onwards, stopping to see the impressive Dynjandi waterfall and a lot of other amazing scenery on our way to the guesthouse in Thingeyri. That night, in the highlight of all highlights, we got to go on a midnight horseback ride through the mountains of the west fjords. I can't think of anything that would be higher on my list of things to do again. It was fabulous.



Day Three was fellow Snorri Theo's birthday, so I whipped up a birthday banner to hang in the bus and when we made a stop in the town of Isafjordur we picked up some little gifts and a card. It was a nice little family party. There was a lot of time in the van on this day (which meant lots of naps for me), so when we finally arrived at our house in Drangsnes we were really excited to see that we had an entire summer house to ourselves. It was beautiful. For dinner that night we had grilled chicken legs and whale steaks. At the risk of offending people, I am just going to go out and say whale is delicious. And for those of you who are horrified by that statement, these whales are not endangered or anything. We weren't eating Free Willy. And I like wildlife as well or better than the next person. After that delicious meal we drove back into town and enjoyed some time in the hot tubs on the beach. It was colder than you know what getting in and out of the tubs, but totally worth it to sit in there and soak up the warm water and the breathtaking views.

I think Day 4 of the tour could be considered the most exciting day. Our main activity was a trip to the island of Drangey, which is a puffin island in the far North of Iceland. The island has sheer cliffs on all sides, with a path of sorts to climb up using ladders and ropes. We took a boat out to the island and up, up, up we went. It was more than we were expecting, though Asta Sol asked us before we left if anyone was afraid of heights. We all reached the top safely and were given a tour of the island (historically it is the site where Icelandic outlaw Grettir went into hiding) by a smoking hot puffin hunter and his dad. Call off the search, I have found my Icelandic husband.




We watched my future father-in-law catch puffins and then we rather morbidly played with their little corpses. I know. I'm not saying it wasn't strange. Getting down from the island was even scarier than climbing up, and I had a firm grasp on the ropes all the way down, resulting in a minor case of rope burn. Better than a severe case of broken bones, in my book. We washed away the dust and dirt from the climb by soaking in Grettir's pool, which is a natural hot (super hot) spring on the mainland. We were all lobster red by the time we got out. Our final destination that day was the town of Hofsos where we would be staying for two nights. We had a great dinner and met Nelson Gerrard who is a Canadian of Icelandic ancestry who has made it his life's work to research the Icelandic emigration to North America. He has helped to create many beautiful museum exhibits in Hofsos on Icelanders that left for American and Canada in the late 1800s-early 1900s. There is even a museum dedicated to the North Dakota Icelanders. This was very special to me as there are photos of the church where I was baptized (the oldest Icelandic church in North America) and lots of information on the history of Icelanders in the area where I was born. I felt such a deep connection to Iceland when I saw all of that, it was really amazing.




The next day we had time to see the rest of the museum exhibits and to explore Hofsos. We climbed around on the basalt columns on the beach and skipped rocks until I thought my arm would fall off. Turns out I am not a good rock skipper. We ate several wonderful meals at the restaurant in Hofsos called Solvik. The food there was nothing short of miraculous. There are no words to describe how delicious it was. On the second night in Hofsos we had a Kvoldvaka, which is an Icelandic get-together were you tell stories and entertain each other with tricks or games or songs. It was just the Snorri group as all the locals were out haying, but that was fine. We had a great time. I know that it was constantly a lurking thought for me that we were running out of time together and our journey was fast approaching a close. A few times I would catch the eyes of one of my friends and a sort of understanding seemed to pass through. The idea that this couldn't last forever was tragically obvious to us all.


Our last full day together, Thursday July 21st was spent making our way South, back to Reykjavik where we could pick up the rest of our things from the Snorri Office and then go to the Blue Lagoon for our last night in Iceland. We all changed into nicer clothes than the things we had been wearing on the road for the last week because, as a last minute surprise, we were going to be meeting the President of Iceland. This was an event that had been planned for the first week we were in Iceland, but had fallen through and we had all sort of forgotten about it. We were all very excited about it because all the other Snorri groups have gotten to meet him, and he is a strong supporter of the Snorri Program. He welcomed us into his home, Bessastadir and chatted easily with us about where we all came from and how we liked Iceland. "You come from a strong stock," he told us, telling us how it must have been incredibly difficult for those that chose to leave Iceland for North America. He showed us around his home and into the basement where there is a museum and excavation site of all the homes that have sat on that location for the last 1000 years. Amazing.




Last stop, Northern Lights Inn near the Blue Lagoon. We were shown to our rooms, which were positively 5 star compared to many of the places we had stayed in the past week (all of which were more than fine, just not fancy) and then we rushed to our Graduation Ceremony. This was a very bittersweet time for everyone. We each had to make a presentation about our experience with the Snorri Program and there were speeches from the Chairman and from Asta Sol. We were given certificates and mittens and t-shirts and then we had a really nice meal together.




We had to race over to the Blue Lagoon after dinner so we would have enough time to make an evening of it. I hadn't gotten to go there on my last visit to Iceland and I thought it was really fun, though not at all an accurate picture of what Iceland is really like. We all stayed up as late as we possibly could on that final night, resisting going to sleep because it meant when we woke up we would have to go home.
It will be one of my fondest memories, I think, to look back at that last evening with everyone crammed into one of the hotel rooms, laughing and being ridiculous. I was able to look at each person in that room and think of a hundred wonderful moments that we had shared over the last 6 weeks. We were all so incredibly different, but had been brought together over our common heritage and the traditions that our families had kept alive over the years. I said this in one of my first posts, but wanted to say it again. To me it was so novel and wonderful that I could talk about ammas and kleinur and ponnukokur and have people know what I was talking about. Though we came from all over America and Canada, had grown up in different circumstances, worked and went to school in different fields and had wildly different personalities, we all had this common foundation in our Icelandic heritage and that allowed us to come together and realize that there were many other ways that we were alike.
We had a lazy last morning and by 1pm had to leave for the airport. We had flights between 4:30 and 5:00. We had to say goodbye to Sarah, who was staying in Iceland for another week with family, and to Asta Sol and Kent (our tour van driver/co-leader). It was pretty heartwrenching to say that first goodbye, but with a few tears the remaining 9 of us went into the airport and waited together for our flights. We exchanged our money and made a visit to the duty free store. We ate some lunch and wandered the terminal a little. And then it was time to go. I was the first of the airport group to board my plane, and I hugged them each in turn before having no choice but to leave. I was so thankful that they were all there until the last minute and wished with all my heart that they were coming to Minneapolis with me.


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I made it onto the airplane before bursting into tears, which I consider a small victory. The couple sitting beside me on the plane looked concerned but I was lost in my own personal pity party and paid them no mind. The flight seemed short and before I knew it I was back to overheated Minneapolis/St. Paul and pulling up to my apartment. It felt simultaneously like I hadn't been back here in ages and that I had never left. I wished that I was happier to see it, but my mind was still somewhere on an Icelandic mountaintop. I've been back for a little less than 2 days now, and am not quite readjusted. There are souvenirs and travel supplies strewn hither and yon around my room, and I'm slowly started to put some things in order. I've looked back at my 2500 pictures many times already, and am in my head already planning my next trip to Iceland.
So thank you Snorri Program, thank you Snorris and thank you to my family in Iceland for making me feel like I belonged. If tomorrow there was an opportunity for me to move to Iceland you can bet I wouldn't hesitate to say yes. I had the time of my life.