Iceland's Palette, and Signs

April 7, 2018

The next morning, at their last breakfast in the quaint farmhouse kitchen of the Hrifunes Guesthouse, Astrid observed what had been staring at her for the past few mornings: a stuffed raven on top of the cupboards. Relaxed a little, she now saw a lot of things she had passed up: photography of the surrounding rolling hills covering the walls, other stuffed wildlife adorning the place. 

After breakfast they packed up and started their last magnificent drive in Iceland, to the Keflavik Airport. The view from the road, in this magnificent country was as affecting as walking through it, but in a car, you saw more. Before you drove through small towns, you were greeted with signs of an electronic smiley face or frowning face, depending how fast you were going. Signs let you know when you were leaving towns, when you were entering them. 

Seljalandsfoss

The beauty of Iceland, what is so bold, attractive and draws so many visitors is like a black and white photo. Most of what Astrid saw consisted of waterfalls, mountains, snow, glaciers (ice) and crystal clear water: not impressive if they were all the same, but they occurred in such a wide variety of sizes and forms, that each one had its own visual spectacle. Though there were some green patches, especially along the road in southern Iceland, it was evident that the frigid island did not capitulate to the vernal equinox so easily as did some other parts of the world. Green was a hard won, long-awaited color on that island of ice and fire. 

Gljúfrabúi

On the way to the airport, they stopped at Seljalandsfoss, the waterfall where tourists are able to walk in back of it. But the wind was blowing, it was below freezing and the family didn't relish getting an ice bath before boarding the plane so they took a quick hike to yet another water fall, Gljúfrabúi, set back in a cavern. 

As they drew closer to Reykjavik, buildings and houses grew more common and closer together, roads filled up with more traffic. But still, volcanic nature let herself be known, by lava rock plains and steaming earth along the roadside.

At the car rental place, they bid farewell to the Viking Toe 5 with some nostalgia, then walked to the airport. There, they ate their final Icelandic meal, Bjorn and Snorri had Icelandic hot dogs, Astrid, a salad with barley. Then Astrid and Snorri took one last memento: Iceland’s water, by filling up their water bottles. 

The family left Iceland wanting to go back in a different season, when the island wore more shades of green and when the temperatures were just a little warmer (it never gets much above 50 degrees F, even in summer). 

One thing that kept coming up throughout their trip was signs. Whenever traveling, but especially traveling outside one’s own country, signs, and the ability to understand them become very important, even to the point of life or death. 

Because Iceland is a relatively newish travel hotspot, tourists in the past have made sometimes lethal faux pas when visiting the wild island, which has lead tourism to put up many, many signs. Signs about things that Icelanders (and Michiganders) take for granted, things drilled into our heads about the dangers of ice, wind, water and rocks, which may not be apparent to other tourists. 

At the Geysir

At most overlooks

For example, the “no walking on the ice” signs. Tourists may think “I see it on cartoons all the time, I’ll just walk out on this ice floating in the glacier lagoon, it will be fun,” not understanding the real danger to their lives. It's just cold water, right? Living in Michigan, by the lake, the family knew these dangers, they knew the gravity of the risk, it’s drilled into kids and adults with every life lost to the lake. But someone who doesn’t live in a place with ice and snow and near-frozen water temperatures may think the warning is over exaggerated. Hence the need for overly-cautious, plentiful signs. 

Other signs were reminders of respecting nature, (for Pete’s sake!), be a good tourist, don’t hurt the areas around you, and don’t let your kids do it either. And some signs were necessary to deter people skirting restrictions.

... you will need this sign.

If you have this sign ...

Everywhere the family went, there were signs, and to the very good credit of Iceland, most of them were clearly comprehensible. 

The signs in Iceland were different than in most places she’d been to, though the landscape palette was the same–sky, rocks, water, earth, ice, snow, light. Iceland used these colors so ruggedly and artfully, with force and reckless austerity, that going back to the mild dunes and relatively calm Lake Michigan seemed like a small let-down. 

"The moss is flammable"

Iceland was a lot like Hawaii: an island full of plains of endless lava rock, mountains, waterfalls and plentiful bodies of water; but Iceland had the added magic of ice and snow with which to work, as well as the resilient, friendly and hardy people that lived there. 

Sitting on the plane, watching Iceland grow smaller, she tried to recall the highlights of her travel. Though cold and chilled most of the time, the open fierce landscape flanking the roads sank into her thoughts, to where she could feel something growing, like a story, a creation. There was room for it to grow and change and make something marvelous. She did not know what it was yet, and may not for a long time, but there was a seed she recognized as valuable and edifying. 

P.S. Though recreating a personal Icelandic Saga after the style of The Sagas of Icelanders seemed an interesting concept at the beginning of this blog series, it proved to be a little difficult to create the aura of those ancient stories within the family on this trip. The family lacked a certain vengeful spirit, they never drank alcohol to oblivion nor acted on their inebriated impulses, didn't bring their swords, shield, daggers or longboats with them, steered clear of violence in general and simply could not bring themselves to pillage unsuspecting villagers, as the Vikings did in The Sagas of Icelanders. They may have expressed a few minutes of ill-will (more confusion, than ill-will, really) to the man who denied them a parking spot in the supposed "buses only lot" at Gullfoss, that was all. They did, however, take quite nicely to their Viking names, and may keep them for further blogging use. 

Thanks for reading!