Iceland is beautiful. Seriously, this country is gorgeous, I haven’t left the capital yet, but Reykjavik is ringed by snowcapped mountains, and mountains always feel powerful and ancient and like they know secrets. Just a glimpse of the natural wonders to come convinced me of the island’s allure.
While the mountains feel like time-worn guardians, and the people of this island nation have a rich and long history, (we spent some time at The National Museum of Iceland learning about the viking settlement onward,) everything else is new. Views of the mountains are cut off by scaffolding and cranes in Reykjavik, and all of the building are freshly poured here, because the material most commonly used for homes is concrete. There are some traditional-seeming homes, but they are outnumbered by the glass walls and functionalist exteriors.
The people seem new too, in a way; I’ve seen one elderly lady, walking bent halfway over on the arm of her middle aged daughter, perhaps bent by the ferocious winds, and one picturesque old man, white beard and shaking hands included. I suspect this will change as we journey away from the center of it all, but it’s still puzzling to see such a completely young crowd.
Even the livelihoods of Reykjavik’s native population seem new. Everything is based on tourism here, very successfully so, the country seems to have completely recovered from its recent extreme recession. It is still odd to walk around and spend money in a city that completely depends on foreigners like us walking around and spending money.
We spent most of the day just walking around the city. We had a couple of destinations in mind, like The National Museum, but other than that we just wanted to feel out the place. The weather was beautiful, but varied, meaning we experienced blue skies as well as sun showers. But the sun was out more of the time than the rain and we walked in the bright springtime light around some ponds and through many of Reykjavik’s dollhouse-seeming streets.
For me, the highlight of the day was the time spent in Suourgata cemetery, pictured above. Unlike the rest of the city, this cemetery was thickly treed, and the combination of twisted branches and luscious moss with the old and new headstones made this place feel not otherworldly, but the best of this world. Unlike many of the other cemeteries I’ve spent time in, I didn’t feel the pain of forgotten lives here, but instead a deep peace and restfulness. I didn’t feel like an intruder into someone else’s private space of mourning, though of course, in many ways, I was one. It helped that there was so much new life springing up around the death, softening the edges of the grief and of the stones.
On an unrelated, less interesting note, we’ve had a pretty amazing hotel experience. We booked the least expensive room at one Reykjavik’s fanciest hotels, and by magic and luck we were upgraded into their most luxurious suite. It’s awesome, definitely the nicest place we’ve ever stayed, but kind of an unfair start to a hostel- filled 4 months.
-N
p.s. You can click on the pictures to view them larger, which I would personally recommend. 🙂