Out of the Frying Pan, into the Fridge: Iceland
Water, water everywhere. After spending a bit over a week with our youth group at Rehoboth Christian School near Gallup, New Mexico, where June is hot and dry, and where our group went through 15 gallons of drinking water a day, Iceland is an abrupt change and a shock to the senses.
Yesterday we arrived at the international airport near Reykjavik, greeted by rain and 50 degree temps. We picked up our rental car and drove around the Reykjanes peninsula.
We stopped in at Viking World, a small museum that has a replica of a Viking ship. That very replica ship sailed to North America in 2000. Through fog and mist we toured the coast, seeing a million arctic terns circling above us, wildflowers everywhere, and a moonscape of lava rock covered in lichen and moss. We walked on a bridge that spans the edges of the North American and Eurasian tectonic plates. We visited a hot spring in a geothermal field venting steam in a tall spray. And after we checked into our guesthouse in Grindavik, we headed to Blue Lagoon, created as a byproduct of a geothermal power plant. There we floated through a huge pool of 100 degree mineral water surrounded by lava, getting a complimentary silica mud face mask and drinks from the swim-up bar.
The lagoon was exactly what we needed to soak away the exhaustion inherent to long overnight flights in airline seats that seem built for people aged 5 or less. By the time we finished there, we felt pleasantly adrift from real life and ready for a long, long night’s sleep.
Today we went to the Settlement Center, a museum that explains how Iceland was first settled by Norwegians coming over the water in Viking ships. Another exhibit relates a bit of the saga of Egil, a spoiled, nasty young man who grew up to be an angry, malevolent Viking and yet was also a much-lauded poet. This unique mix of strength (albeit violent) and sensitive soul somehow made him a “representative of the true Scandinavian spirit”, according to Wikipedia. Go figure. For the record, the few Scandinavians I know personally are not nasty or violent, though only some of them have poetic souls.
Many towns in this area are or have been fishing villages, dependent on water for their trade. Natalie is waiting for her chance to try hakarl, the well-known treat here, which is fermented rotten shark. Before grocery stores came along to carry food all year round, Icelanders had to make do. Greenlands shark is poisonous because of its high ammonia content, but if you bury it for 6-12 weeks, then hang it in strips to dry for several months, you get barely tolerable meat that smells terrible but won’t kill you, so you know, win-win. I’ll sit this one out, but I will sacrifice myself to try the chocolate and licorice treat that they are also known for.
The sun came out, and we drove further inland to see Hraunfossar and Barnafossar waterfalls, which are created by glacier water bursting through walls of lava. To get a closer look at how lava works, we went to the Víðgelmir cave for a tour. It is actually a lava tube from a volcano that is currently inactive. If you go, dress warmly, the temp inside hovers around the freezing point.
Led by a geologist who was way too goofy, patient, knowledgable and kind to fit the above-stated true Scandinavian spirit, the tour was packed with information about both lava tubes and Icelandic history and mythology. Even in the cave we were being dripped on, as the glacier water drips through the ceiling and walls. From the mouth of the cave, we could see a couple of glaciers, one that is expected to disappear in the next 5-10 years.
Being surrounded by glaciers and springs and oceans give you a feeling of unlimited water. After being parched in desert-like conditions in New Mexico, the extravagance of water here leaves me stunned. Water is such a gift, one so easily taken for granted when you live in a place surrounded by the Great Lakes, when you pass over the Mississippi River and see it flooding its banks. Look to Flint, Michigan, and Chennai, India, to see what it’s like when you can’t depend on having it.
Raise a glass of clean, drinkable water today, and be thankful for it. I’ll be thinking more carefully about how to preserve it and how to help bring it to places that don’t have it.
We stopped in at Viking World, a small museum that has a replica of a Viking ship. That very replica ship sailed to North America in 2000. Through fog and mist we toured the coast, seeing a million arctic terns circling above us, wildflowers everywhere, and a moonscape of lava rock covered in lichen and moss. We walked on a bridge that spans the edges of the North American and Eurasian tectonic plates. We visited a hot spring in a geothermal field venting steam in a tall spray. And after we checked into our guesthouse in Grindavik, we headed to Blue Lagoon, created as a byproduct of a geothermal power plant. There we floated through a huge pool of 100 degree mineral water surrounded by lava, getting a complimentary silica mud face mask and drinks from the swim-up bar.
Today we went to the Settlement Center, a museum that explains how Iceland was first settled by Norwegians coming over the water in Viking ships. Another exhibit relates a bit of the saga of Egil, a spoiled, nasty young man who grew up to be an angry, malevolent Viking and yet was also a much-lauded poet. This unique mix of strength (albeit violent) and sensitive soul somehow made him a “representative of the true Scandinavian spirit”, according to Wikipedia. Go figure. For the record, the few Scandinavians I know personally are not nasty or violent, though only some of them have poetic souls.
Many towns in this area are or have been fishing villages, dependent on water for their trade. Natalie is waiting for her chance to try hakarl, the well-known treat here, which is fermented rotten shark. Before grocery stores came along to carry food all year round, Icelanders had to make do. Greenlands shark is poisonous because of its high ammonia content, but if you bury it for 6-12 weeks, then hang it in strips to dry for several months, you get barely tolerable meat that smells terrible but won’t kill you, so you know, win-win. I’ll sit this one out, but I will sacrifice myself to try the chocolate and licorice treat that they are also known for.
The sun came out, and we drove further inland to see Hraunfossar and Barnafossar waterfalls, which are created by glacier water bursting through walls of lava. To get a closer look at how lava works, we went to the Víðgelmir cave for a tour. It is actually a lava tube from a volcano that is currently inactive. If you go, dress warmly, the temp inside hovers around the freezing point.
Led by a geologist who was way too goofy, patient, knowledgable and kind to fit the above-stated true Scandinavian spirit, the tour was packed with information about both lava tubes and Icelandic history and mythology. Even in the cave we were being dripped on, as the glacier water drips through the ceiling and walls. From the mouth of the cave, we could see a couple of glaciers, one that is expected to disappear in the next 5-10 years.
Being surrounded by glaciers and springs and oceans give you a feeling of unlimited water. After being parched in desert-like conditions in New Mexico, the extravagance of water here leaves me stunned. Water is such a gift, one so easily taken for granted when you live in a place surrounded by the Great Lakes, when you pass over the Mississippi River and see it flooding its banks. Look to Flint, Michigan, and Chennai, India, to see what it’s like when you can’t depend on having it.
Raise a glass of clean, drinkable water today, and be thankful for it. I’ll be thinking more carefully about how to preserve it and how to help bring it to places that don’t have it.
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