Sunday
August 19th, 2001
We
finally made it out of town: Hurray. Flew British Air business class SF to
London and then Icelandic Air (or was it Air Icelandic?) London to Reykjavik.
The flights were a nice gradual introduction to our trip, since there were no
hassles or delays, and all that we had to do was sit and eat. We all felt rather
out of place in the business class lounge, a first time experience for our
family (this stuff is free? do we just take it?). The flight was great and
you can really sleep in those fancy sleeper chairs, but they keep trying to
cram food in you. The food was very good and at first I started trying to keep
up with the flight attendants, but the faster I swallowed, the faster they
brought it. The novelty wore off as the seatbelt grew tighter, and I switched
from eating and drinking to watching another passenger who seemed to have
amazing gastronomic stamina. I was making mental wagers with myself- like how
many glasses of wine and pieces of chocolate he would consume in the next 30
minutes, but the thrill of this exciting pastime eventually wore off and my
attentions switched to sleeping. This was not the easiest transition, since not
only did I have to rid my seat of dishes and wrappers, and sort through an
elaborate personal hygiene kit for eyeshades and earplugs, but I had to help
Thomas with the same thing. It was a little difficult since although he
was sitting next to me, the chairs were arranged head-to-foot, and he had been
given about 2 pounds of entertainment accessories. He seemed to be buried under
a mountain of happy meal prizes, all of which he desperately wanted to save,
somewhere under which was his immediately desired eyeshades, earplugs, pillow,
blanket, and soft fuzzy socks.
We
eventually sorted things out, with a little help from the flight attendants, and
Tom and I settled down for 4 or 5 hours of sleep. After negotiating the
monstrous Heathrow airport in London, the cozy little terminal in Reykjavik
seemed like Grandma's house, and after the luggage collection, the locals
quickly dispersed and the tourists were collected by bus drivers from a few
different agencies. In spite of the few hours of good sleeping I still was doing
a pretty good impersonation of a zombie when we finally got to our guesthouse in
Reykjavik. I had read that tipping was not the norm nor was it expected, but I
wasn't yet ready to break that habit and suffer a few pangs of feeling
cheap, so I decided to give the bus driver a small tip in exchange for his
diligent luggage schlepping in the cold drizzly weather. Jet-lag symptoms became
apparent as I tried to perform the mental math of currency conversion on the wad
of kroner in my pocket. I'm still not sure whether I tipped the bus driver about
50 cents or about 50 dollars, but judging from his seemingly genuine enthusiasm,
I fear it was the latter.
Last
night was THE big night of the year in Reykjavik, "National Night". It
is the Icelandic 4th of July, commemorating about half a century of political
independence and a completely unique national identity. We had no idea that our
travel plans were to deposit us in Reykjavik just in time for the party. To
celebrate National Night, everything stays open late and everyone goes out and
walks around the city. We were both obliged and fortunate to participate.
The walking around part becomes more and more challenging for the not-so-subtle
drinkers as the night wears on. I wonder what Geoff thought of all the young teen
(and some pre-teen) boys stumbling around with large beer bottles in hand. Many
businesses were open, all of the bars and clubs were packed, and the candy and
music stores were doing a brisk business. The primary street activity
seemed to be milling around, watching the other people and looking for people
you knew, but we didn't run into any friends or relatives to socialize
with. At least we could enjoy the entertainment provided by several groups of
street musicians, some playing from balconies, and there were a few "event
tents" set up in the town square. Human congestion made it difficult to
navigate close enough to fully participate in the activities under the tents. We
knew that there would eventually be fireworks, but we grew tired of the
increasing crush of people around the center of the downtown plaza, presumably
the prime fireworks viewing location, and left to go back to the guesthouse a
little after 10pm. We were exhausted from all of that sitting and eating, and
now our legs were aching from standing around, and at 10 o'clock, the sun was
just setting v-e-e-e-r-y slowly. There was no telling how long the extended
Arctic twilight would last, and we weren't sure how long it would be before it
got dark enough for fireworks to have the desired impact.
This
morning Lynn started teaching school and I think everyone is starting to feel
almost recovered from jet lag. With a fresh brain I was able to commit the USD
equivalent of each denomination of Icelandic Kroner note in my wallet to memory
so that we had some concept of economics. The guesthouse serves breakfast,
but we were motivated to hit the streets for an afternoon of sightseeing by
hunger pangs around noon. The weather outlook was decent, but "partly
cloudy" soon turned into a solidly gray sky threatening to spit a
little rain. It took us a little while to locate a place to eat lunch, since on
Sunday not only were most of the shops closed, but many of the restaurants and
cafes as well. We did find a bakery & sandwich shop open shortly before we
expired from famine. It is very impressive how quickly and thoroughly
the streets around the downtown area had been cleaned up after last night's
party. Today we got a little better look at Reykjavik under normal operating
circumstances. There are no really tall buildings, and most of the main avenues
are lined with a solid wall of 2-3 story shops, galleries, restaurants, bars,
and cafes. The old downtown still maintains the look and character of an old
seaport, aided by the brightly painted and wooden facades of a fair number of
the shops. Office buildings and other sorts of businesses tend to be placed
along the side streets where the rent is presumably cheaper. Once you have left
the old downtown, the composition of the city is a random mixture of
architecturally pleasing older buildings and plain but economical (and weather
resistant) newer construction. Our guest house is in a residential area
just on the outskirts of the downtown district, in a neighborhood of tree-lined
streets dominated by old and closely spaced large wooden homes, most of which
have been subdivided into apartments.
A
fortunate aspect of easing into the international travel scene in Iceland is the
issue of language. Iceland shares the characteristic of common English usage
along with other small northern European countries like Denmark, Netherlands,
and some parts of England. Icelanders can't expect to go anywhere and expect the
people to know a little Icelandic, and conversely they can't really expect
visiting tourists to arrive knowing much Icelandic. They all learn English in
school, and it is the primary language used by all tourists. This is good news
for us, but things aren't so easy for some of the Italian and French tourists
that we've rubbed elbows with. Most are quite proficient with English, but some
struggle. I heard an Italian woman asking someone if there was a "parking
box" nearby.
After
lunch we hunted down the home of a man who has been making video documentaries
of Iceland's volcano eruptions for something like 40 years after he learned the
trade from his father. He shows hour-long documentary films to groups of about
60 visitors several times each day. This provides his income and gives him
something to do while waiting for the next big eruption and filming opportunity.
While waiting for our show time, we walked a few blocks over to the downtown
lake, which is surrounded on one side by a busy avenue, on the other by a
hillside of luxury homes, and overlooked by a museum housed in a modern glass
and metal building. The kids chased the ducks and seagulls along the shore who
were expecting handouts.
Many
other movie customers had shown up while we were teasing ducks and the volcano
show was filled to capacity. The host spent a frantic 10-15 minutes trying to
organize different language speakers into groups, preferably with a translator
in the vicinity. The video footage was amazing; spectacular scenes of lava
slowly engulfing buildings and raging floodwaters ripping up bridges, but
although the narration was interesting, it was slow, monotonous, and devoid of
much humor. After the lava stopped oozing and the lights were turned up,
we were all turned out blinking into the comparatively bright (but still
gray) afternoon. The museum by the lake provided an excuse to walk by the birds
and torment them some more, and the natural history exhibits inside held our
attention for at least an hour or so. We were starting to tire of volcanoes and
geology when left, and the slight incline on the avenue leading back to the
guesthouse left us physically worn out as well.
The
guesthouse manager is a young man who lives in Egypt during the Icelandic
winter and comes to live in Iceland and help his father (presumably the owner)
run the guesthouse in the summer. He is very friendly and was excited to hear
that we were planning on visiting Egypt on our trip, but his face dropped
when I told him that I didn't think we would make it to Alexandria ("it is
the most beautiful part of Egypt!"). It
is obvious why Roushi helps out his father. He is outgoing and comfortable
chatting in several different European languages. This morning Roushi
recommended the public pool and spa located near our guesthouse. Iceland has
more thermally heated water than they know what to do with. So bathing in it is
one of the more popular options since 300,000 or so people can't
really ingest all that large a quantity of hot beverages. Hunger dominated
our desire to bathe when we returned from our walkabout in the late afternoon,
so we'll save that adventure for another day. Lynn had read about a fancy
circular spinning restaurant located atop a big building on a hill overlooking
the city. It sounded good. It also sounded expensive. I half-heartedly called
for reservations and Roushi called us a cab shortly before our designated eating
appointment.
The spinning restaurant was a wonderful place with fantastic views, set inside the glass dome of the outstanding feature of the Reykjavik skyline. The Perlan building is primarily some sort of public facility designed for conferences and exhibits. It is located atop a small hill and centered inside a collection of large glistening hot water tanks, which hold over 5 million gallons of naturally heated water and supply more than half of the usage of the overall Reykjavik area. To enhance the entertainment value of the slowly spinning dining floor of the 5th floor restaurant, the center space of all 5 stories was open and sometimes filled with spray from an intermittently surging large fountain. I later read that this was a "man-made geyser". Oh! I get it!
One of
my favorite moments of the evening came when the waiter informed us, after
several minutes of looking at expensive menu items, that the children could have
roast chicken and French fries for about $5 a piece. This meant that even after
they totaled up the bill which included 2 fancy adult meals and a bottle of
wine, the whole thing cost barely more than our mediocre meal at a funky
Icelandic/Thai restaurant the night before. Luxury can be affordable! The kids
were totally thrilled with the fountain, the food, the spinning, and the
gorgeous views of the twinkling city lights. We told the waiter about our
intended travel around the world plans, he asked some eager questions about the
trip, and then asked us to adopt him. Then he told us all about his visit to the
US to attend a Rock concert a few years back. It was a wonderful end to our
first full day on foreign soil.
Walking around Downtown Reykjavik beloved downtown "pond" Tjörnin (we'd call that a lake in most major US cities!)
Waiting for the Volcano Show to start
Oh No! We find out 20 years later that it's permanently closed. https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/volcano-show-at-red-rock-cinema
Geoff, Lynn, and Anna in the Spinning Restaurant (a proper noun alias in our family) atop the Perlan Building
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Perlan
- Rolf 8/19/01