There were things I expected to experience in Iceland — the northern lights, breathtaking sunsets, expansive landscapes — but I didn’t. Instead, I discovered fog thick enough to slice with a knife, heavy darkness that stained my heart with depression, and a bleak landscape of rugged valleys speckled with volcanic rock and shrubs: nature in its rawest form.
I found an island formed by nature’s fury and seemingly kissed by hell itself.
As our plane descended into Keflavik during a spur-of-the-moment solo trip I took in early December, the passenger seated next to me described the view outside his window as “ink.” He was right. I’d never encountered an existence so entirely devoid of light quite like that. The darkness weighed heavy on my emotions as I drove my rental car toward Reykjavik, rain snapping into the window, taillights reflecting off shimmering pavement.
I quickly realized that I’d planned my trip during the worst possible weekend for tourism.
However, despite the miserable conditions, Iceland fulfilled my craving for adventure and lived up to most of my expectations. For those wondering whether or not a trip there is worth the money — give Iceland a chance. The country will blow your mind and leave you seeking more adventure for the rest of your life.
A Weekend In Iceland
I flew in from Boston early Saturday morning and returned Monday afternoon. Although my visit to the country was a blur, I experienced more there than some might in a month. In two days, I drove the famous “Golden Circle” and ventured down the coast to Vik.
Travel for me is a beautiful experience in itself — the destination is icing on the cake. Over the years, I’ve learned to cover ground at a breakneck pace while on the road.
Once, I traveled through 12 European countries in two weeks. Another time, I traveled from coast to coast in the United States, also in two weeks.
In addition to writing for The Recorder, I’m a staff writer at GoNOMAD Travel, an international travel writing website located in South Deerfield.
I’ve learned to appreciate the journey. I don’t just crave majestic vistas and unique new cultures, but the feeling of motion and changing scenes; long layovers, overnight train journeys and boring car rides. I’ve found that it’s during these in-between moments that I’m forced to contemplate life’s greatest mysteries and, inevitably, gain a little more insight and wisdom than I had before.
Reykjavik is about a 40-minute car ride from the airport. It’s an industrious city thriving with life and cheered by quaint, colorful houses. In the winter months, Christmas lights emerge everywhere and holiday tunes float through the narrow streets, performed by street musicians — a cheery contrast to the pervasive darkness and foggy gloom.
Supposedly, the northern lights are particularly spectacular and easily seen during the winter months; however, I didn’t see anything but rain and fog while I was there.
It was cold, but not unbearably so (about 45 degrees Fahrenheit, normally). At first, I was disappointed at the miserable weather outlook. Then, I pushed aside the depression and decided to enjoy myself, regardless. I found a unique beauty in Iceland — and its people and wildlife — that comes from its ability to survive and adapt to a brutal climate and geography.
After reaching the city, I immediately set a course for Vik, stopping at Seljalandsfoss waterfall, a very popular tourist attraction.
Seeking a unique experience
Before booking the flight on WOW Airlines ($330 round-trip), I extensively researched photography locations on the island.
I found that, at least in recent years, it’s arguably one of the most photographed locations in the world. This is probably because of Iceland’s accessibility and breathtaking, unique geography. Because of that, it has become a sort of photographer’s mecca — a rite of passage for budding travelers.
Many guides I read broke the location down to step-by-step instructions, relating the best gear to use, imperative travel tips (including one that suggested booking two seats because that’s cheaper than spending extra for luggage), the best time to go, essentially relating exactly how to photograph Iceland.
At first, I found myself looking for photographs to replicate. Then, I realized I was seeking something else — a unique adventure that produced one-of-a-kind images.
Thus, instead of bringing expensive camera equipment and following the guides, I threw out all the suggestions. I bought a $20 fold-up tripod and a 12-year-old $50 Nikon D70 DSLR to capture my experience.
I traveled through Iceland this weekend!
Check out the full gallery here. #Iceland #GoNOMAD #photographyhttps://t.co/jC7Y2NU0aK pic.twitter.com/qX7ljMaTv7— Andy Castillo (@AndyCCastillo) December 5, 2016
The benefit of this streamlined approach revealed itself immediately. I wasn’t tied up with lugging around heavy gear or worrying about the weather’s effect on expensive camera equipment. Instead, I was able to move quickly, thoroughly immersing myself into the environment.
Engrossed in the moment
By the time I reached Seljalandsfoss falls a few hours later, daylight had turned the fog from black to grey.
Water fell from cliffs above, hurtling through the mist, exploding into a small pool and soaking those brave souls, including myself, who were adventurous enough to be there.
But, that wasn’t the last time I’d be soaked by nature in Iceland. After stopping at Skógafoss, another popular waterfall, and an overlook called Dyrhólaey (it was too foggy to see anything), I arrived at Reynisfjara, a beautiful black sand beach.
The location has gorgeous and unique rock formations that look like legos, carved by time into cliffs that tower above the beach. It was spectacular.
As the light faded into that inky blackness again, I felt the sheer power of nature — waves crashed onto the black sand, a cold wind whipped down from above, and dozens of seagulls circled high around two curious rocks jutting out of the sea.
I became so engrossed in photographing the scene I didn’t notice the rising tide, which overcame me suddenly and washed my legs in bitter cold saltwater. The water enhanced the awe-inspiring moment — adding tactile feeling to a holistic invasion of my senses.
I returned to the city that night with a few grainy photos and a feeling of exhilaration that can only be found on the boundaries of existence, in that elusive space outside comfort zones, where the only thing that matters is the present.
The “Golden Circle”
After spending the night at Capital-Inn hostel in Reykjavík, I set a course the next day to Gullfoss Falls, the Golden Circle’s hallmark attraction.
The Golden Circle, as it’s called, is a loop that starts in the city and takes about three to four hours to drive around, hitting a number of popular tourist attractions, including Bingvellir National Park. The park, which is literally being torn asunder by shifting Eurasian and North American tectonic plates, is where ancient civilizations gathered for civil discourse.
Another place, Geysir, has a lot of geothermal activity, including a popular geyser.
Finally, there’s Gullfoss Falls, a series of large waterfalls set in a powerful river so magnificent it’ll take your breath away.
Words don’t do it justice.
Of the three, I found Geysir to be particularly interesting, not because of the geyser itself, rather, the gorgeous colors that seep into crystal-clear, steaming-hot groundwater.
Beauty on the side of the road
As I usually discover while traveling, my most memorable experiences weren’t anticipated — and came on the side of the road.
While driving the circle, I first chanced upon a gorgeous river snaking away into the horizon. It was a vista I’d imagined before, and happily captured on camera.
The second was the most magical little waterfall I’ve ever seen in my life.
It jumped out of heavy fog just off a very narrow two-lane road, set back around a precarious curve. I quickly turned around and pulled my car onto the dirt, grabbed my camera and hiked down about five minutes to an overlook above the falls.
That moment, standing on the edge of a cliff feeling cold mist drift up from the falls with the wind at my back, is one that’ll stay with me forever.
Another time, I emerged over a small rise to find myself standing about 300 feet up, overlooking a massive river that’d chiseled through lava rock.
In that short trip, I discovered Iceland in its raw form — not as the guide books told me it’d be, but as it was to me: cold, rainy, foggy, miserable, beautiful, strong and awe-inspiring.
On Monday morning before I caught my flight home, I drove to the coast near the airport. Over a small berm, I stood in front of the ocean, alone amidst the darkness, listening to the waves. Iceland will continue to experience the brunt of nature’s wrath, from volcanoes and earth-tearing plate shifts to all-consuming darkness and stormy weather, long after I’ve departed this earth.
As I boarded the plane, the sun finally broke through the clouds; a gorgeous, golden wash that enveloped everything, painting the world cheery, just as the fog and darkness had made everything dreary and depressing just hours before.
This story, along with others written by Castillo, also appears at: GoNOMAD.com
You can reach Andy Castillo
at: acastillo@recorder.com
or 413-772-0261, ext. 263
On Twitter: @AndyCCastillo