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TRAVEL DIARY

I: 31.07.04 II: 01.08.04 III: 02.08.04 IV: 03.08.04 V: 04.08.04 VI: 05.08.04 VII: 06.08.04

date

07:20

To call this a wake up would be lying directly in your face, but nevertheless we, um, get up to the chirping of the broken digital phone that's in our hotel room. It's mother trying to give us a call. It's rather impossible to discuss over the phone, though, but we get the hint. I still feel sorry for not letting the staff know the phones were not functioning correctly. The whole hotel has a local area network built inside the walls and it might be very costly to fix the lines (or just find out where the problem actually is). I shudder to think more about such things (it hasn't been that long since I was building those lines myself every day), so I just throw my clothes on (bothering with the wc is not an option), run down for breakfast and decide it was good value. Icelandic butter, or smór, is very much like its Swedish counterpart, and the cheese is good, as are the cold cuts, Bread is white, which I like, and even the coffee automate produces drinks that are... well, drinkable. Now it's time to head back upstairs, pack up the backpack, wash my teeth and then roll back downstairs - and [Be Ready for the Golden Circle].

Only minutes after the bus picks us up, I begin to feel sorry (or my stomach does) for eating breakfast. The original reason I stopped eating it was because it made me nauseous. Well, now I'm nauseous and it's a long day ahead. Luckily it eases up fast and I start paying attention to our Finnish guide that has been assigned to our party. He is in fact good at what he does (later on, we find out he is the best of the trip) and there are lots of interesting (and less interesting) details he can share about the country while the bus slowly splits the landscape.

The first stop is at the gardening town of Hveragerði, a small suburb village with circa 5000 inhabitants. It’s raining, again, as we pass the house of a family that had their kitchen floor pierced by a sprouting geysir... well, when the temperature in your kitchen goes past 60°C, it is better to evacuate. Iceland really is an island that fights back at all attempts of trying to terraform itself… there are no trees, thanks to erosion, and some areas look like the Moon. After visiting the country, it feels like Mother Earth has given up everywhere but there. In Iceland, the nature is vibrant and alive – and fighting back.

Next, we pass Selfoss, another small 5000-ish farming town that has a big dairy. That is about it.

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10:00

Kierið "explosion crater". Or a huge hole in the ground, with its bottom filled with beautiful, crystal-clear water. It's still raining, and it ruins all my photos, my camera gets wet, I get wet despite wearing a raincoat, and we retreat quite quickly back into the bus. What a nice hole.

After a longer drive, we stop at the church of Skálholt. These days, I’m not exactly thrilled by churches, but a lot of stops around the country keep us going well. I feel enthusiastic and boredom is nowhere to be found.

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Further along road 35 is Gulfoss, the main tourist attraction waterfall of the country. It’s not the prettiest or largest one in the country, not even near, but it’s easy to access (in essence, easy to drop tourists at).

It's a brilliant waterfall, nevertheless. It’s the biggest waterfall I’ve seen to date (which may not be much) and you can get so near it you’ll get all wet. I feel happy. There’s a traditional Icelandic saying that reminds all tourists not to close their eyes when they accidentally fall into the waterfall, as the view is pure brilliance ...all the way down. Must be. Only writing this afterwards do I realize, however, that the amount of tourists in the area was enormous. Almost dozens of buses!

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12:15

We’ve driven a few more kilometres backwards over to the geysir site. Or Geysir. Depends how you look at it, as in essence the place is really a geothermal area spawning 3km. Over the area, you can find Strokkur, a 33%-version of Geysir, and even Litli-Geysir, a small bugger. I don’t get to see the old bastard react, as these days it does not sprout water more than once a day (if that. It's however pleasant that it activated again in an earthquake in 1999), but Strokkur sprouts water up in the air many times while we walk through the area littered with odd-coloured ponds and streams of hot water coming underground. This area really is something you don’t actually expect, so I won’t spoil it. It doesn’t disappoint, though!

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14:15

The silly bus and its driver avenge their way through an extremely small, bumpy and rocky road penetrating marvelous grassy moorland and we arrive at þingvellir, the ‘parliament hills’ where the Alþing used to gather round and make decisions. The landscapes could kill. The first meeting held by the vikings was back in 930AD, which makes it the oldest recorded general assembly in the world, they say.

15:00

More of the þingvellir plains, including Lake þingvallavatn and the Öxará River. The photos shall say more than I will. I'm no historian here, you know?

16:00

Öxaráfoss. More photos.

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After we’ve climbed to the top of a large cliff, the bus is waiting and we prepare to take the bus back to the hotels. It’s a route all right, but time passes quickly and it doesn’t feel long at all.

18:00

We stop at the town of Alafoss, according to the guide, to sample the goods of a local wool product wholesaler. To be a good tourist you need to buy good, of course. What makes Alafoss interesting, however, is the fact that Sigur Rós' swimming pool studio is planted in the same yard as the wholesaler's shop. Just when I am trying to capture a few photos of the building, Kjartan (the keyboardist) walks out with a few, um, girls. I don't mean to bother, of course, so I retreat a little... I mean. The reason the band is still located in Iceland instead of the United States or Great Britain is the fact that they aren't really good with people. Nevertheless, photos 2, 3 and 4 sport their studio ^_^

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19:00

We get back around seven, and I’m not really tired one single bit. I find it peculiar, granted the clock is around midnight by Finnish standards after all. Our guide has, once again, suggested a place to eat at, but this time he wasn't exactly sure where the place would be either. Even though I know the harbour area rather well by now, the restaurant is nowhere to be found. Thus we return back to 101... there are several restaurants that sport Chinese, Thai or Japanese food, and we settle for Indókina (thanks to a "Chef's Offer" that is a four-meal deal). Another excellent restaurant that is perhaps slightly cramped, but makes up for it with lighting and service, specially in the late hours. People come to the desk just to fill up their sake bottles! The prices aren't terrible, and the meals are very big. This seems to be a common guideline in Reykjavík nevertheless: Even though the food may be expensive, it doesn't have to be minimalistic.

23:30

As we board our hotel rooms, I prepare to leave for town some after midnight. You see, Icelanders don’t drink for recreation... or having a good time. They get sozzled. Even moreso than in Finland. Beer has been legal only since 1989 and buying alcohol is completely state-controlled (I mean, you just don't have alcohol in any other stores but the off-licences). You can only buy such products from Vinbuðin, the local Alko. Alcohol prices are way up (500kr for a beer is rather normal - that's 6€), thus everyone makes up for it before going to town.

Tonight is no chance in atmosphere as it is empty everywhere. A few poor trubadours can be spotted at Nelly’s, but that’s not really what I’m after, is it... that's what I keep telling myself. I'm in search of art. Right.

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