Iceland day 2 part 2: Hallgrímskirkja

One of the tallest buildings in Iceland and most recognizable churches in the world is Hallgrímskirkja, commissioned in 1937 and designed by the Icelandic architect Guðjón Samúelsson. Like many of Guðjón’s projects, it is an homage to Iceland’s natural geology, in particular its columnar basalt formations. The work was completed in 1986—compare to the duration of the Duomo of Como’s construction, which lasted from 1396 to 1770! (More on that later…)

As it happens, August is Pride Month in much of Europe, so the main street leading to the church was painted with a giant rainbow.

Dees, our lovely local friend and tour guide.

We wandered the square at Skólavörðuholt while the sun set, watching the reflections on the church windows.

Walking back to our hotel, we picked out the bakery we would go for breakfast the following morning, stopped for ice cream, and met a cat.

Iceland, day 2: Sky Lagoon

Ciao a tutti! I’m sorry for the long delay, I’ve just had every day absolutely packed with activities, and no time to sit down and go through photos, let alone write about what I’ve been up to. Expect a few posts over the next few days as I scramble to catch up!

Monday the 26th was neither as cold nor as windy as the previous day, and beautifully sunny. We had reservations at Sky Lagoon, one of Iceland’s geothermal hot springs, so our local friend and guide, Dees, drove us the fifteen or so minutes from downtown Reykjavik. (We chose Sky Lagoon over Blue Lagoon partially for the location–Blue is a considerably longer drive–and partially because Blue Lagoon is situated just a little too close to the currently erupting volcano.)

You enter through changing facilities separated by ticket tier (gold or silver) and (unfortunately for a bunch of nonbinary people) gender. From there on, it’s amazing. The water is comfortably hot, with a little variation in temperature and depth at different parts of the pool. There is an astonishing view of the bay and, currently, the volcano; other bathers told me they’d seen whales breaching in the water beyond. The cool sea breeze keeps your head cool while your body stays perfectly cozy warm. There are underwater benches at varying depths where you can sit or recline, although you can’t always see them until you have stubbed your toe against one, and a warm waterfall at one end.

There’s even a bar accessible from the lagoon itself, with cocktails, beer, wine, cider, and nonalcoholic drinks (and free water—it’s very easy to get dehydrated since you don’t notice that you’re sweating). On entry to the lagoon, you get a wristband that you can link to your credit card in order to pay.

Guests get access to a seven-step “ritual”, which is accessed from one end of the lagoon. Each guest can partake only once, and you are encouraged to take as much time as you please to savor each step.

The first is a cold plunge, and I do mean cold! As soon as I was submerged up to mid-chest, I could hardly breathe, and I think I stayed in the water for about ten seconds before I had to leap out. But the reason for the cold plunge becomes clear in the next room, which was a very hot, quiet sauna. The floors were just a degree below painful to walk on, and the air felt like the inside of an oven. There was sweat absolutely pouring down my back.

After the sauna, there was a cold mist, in a room that was essentially a huge crevice in the volcanic rock. A jagged boulder was wedged in the crack above us with the blue sky visible around it. The mist was a little too cold for me once again—really, it was the floor that was too cold. I would have liked to be able to stand in the mist for a while without my feet being practically on ice.

The next step was a salt scrub in a room with a sort of slow fountain, like a stream trickling down a rocky feature in the center of the space. Attendants gave us each a bowl of sea salt with almond oil and a few other aromatic ingredients, which we took our time scrubbing all over our bodies (but not our faces, per directions).

We then had a lukewarm shower to clean off the salt, oil, and accumulated sweat (there’s not really a positive word in English for “neither hot, nor cold, but in a good way,” is there?). It felt very nice after the previous extremes—refreshing, not painfully cold, warm enough to wash away the grime, cool enough that I didn’t feel overheated. By this point, I don’t think my skin had ever felt so clean and soft!

The penultimate step was a steam room, so thick that I almost didn’t notice there were other people in it until I could see their feet as I walked past! It was tightly packed, very hot, almost hard to breathe, and once again I had rivers of sweat pouring off of me. At this point, I was wishing I’d had a lot more water to drink.

Finally, there was an “elixir”, a sort of herbal tea with crowberry juice and syrup. Crowberry, or Krækiber in Icelandic, is a plant that grows on the volcanic badlands that make up the interior of the island. The tiny shrubs grow low to the ground among mosses and other hardy plants, and the edible berries are full of big rocky seeds that Dees likened to eating gravel–but they produce deep red juice, taste something like a mix of blueberry and cranberry, and are used to make juice, syrups, liquors, and jelly.

After the ritual, we returned to the lagoon, where we lounged until evening. We got coffee and pastries at the cafe, then packed up and returned to town for dinner and a view of Hallgrímskirkja at sunset–which you’ll see next post.

See you soon!

Iceland, day 1

Hello, friends! I’m here! I arrived in Reykjavik on Saturday morning, met up with my friends (one who also flew in from the US and who will be coming with me to Monza, the other who is a local), and started getting our bearings. Naturally, we arrived on the day of the Reykjavik Marathon and the annual Culture Night, so many roads were closed and there were stages with music and stalls selling candy and things everywhere. (On the bus from the airport to our hotel, we asked the bus driver what culture we were celebrating–he said, “drinking culture.”) With how difficult it was to get around town and how crowded most places were, we focused on getting food and rest, only doing a bit of wandering around the National Museum, the Pond, and the downtown neighborhoods.

For lunch, we ate huge, greasy, delicious sub sandwiches (mine was called the Bull).

On Sunday, I had booked a horse-riding and whale-watching tour!

Icelandic horses are well adapted to the local climate–small, sturdy, hardy, and very strong for their size. They have beautiful fluffy manes and wonderfully soft coats, and they come in every imaginable color–white, grey, chestnut, bay, black, buckskin, dun, dappled, pinto. I was the only intermediate rider in the group–my friends had limited experience, and the other group on our tour were experienced riders from Germany–so I was given a sweet gray gelding who wanted to RACE.

We took about a two-hour ride through the beautiful Icelandic countryside, occasionally stopping while our tour guides shared facts about the horses and the culture surrounding them.

The first Icelandic horses were brought on ships by the Vikings who sailed from Norway. There are no contagious diseases that affect the horses here, so the horses don’t need to be vaccinated–but this means that no horses can be brought to Iceland from other places, and any that leave cannot be brought back! It’s also said that horses can see the trolls, elves, and other mystical creatures that are invisible to humans, which is why they sometimes appear to spook for no reason!

We had lunch and coffee at the hotel by the stables, and then it was time for whale watching! We boarded a boat that set out on a long loop around Faxaflói (Faxa Bay, on which Reykjavik is situated). Here, many species of porpoise, whale, and other marine life come surprisingly close to shore to feed in the shallow waters, rich with phytoplankton that photosynthesize in the long summer days.

We saw a harbor porpoise for a moment too brief to photograph, then followed a lone humpback whale. After that, there were no more large mammal sightings, but plenty of sea birds–fulmars, gulls, and the large and beautiful gannets who dive so far and fast into the water that their splashes are mistaken for the spouts of whales.

Meanwhile, the volcano near the town of Grindavík was still erupting in the distance.

Next post: Sky Lagoon!

Animal Interlude

We interrupt your chronological update schedule because I had a whole bunch of pictures of animals that I didn’t want to wait to share!

First: here’s one of the ravens from the Tower of London (next post, I promise).

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The gold band around his foot identifies him as Jubilee, one of seven ravens who currently call the Tower home.

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Ravens have distinct personalities, and this guy is a total show-off.

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He seemed pretty content to be watched and photographed, sitting on a railing where tourists passed by on their way between guard towers. Now and then, he would crow, but more often he would strike a pose, leaning forward and opening his beak and holding like that for a second or two as the cameras all around him went off.

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The ravens at the Tower are extremely well-fed: they dine on ground beef, mice and rats, boiled eggs, and blood-soaked biscuits.

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Now, some cows!

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These are my host Peter’s cattle–two adults, two yearlings, and one six-week-old calf.

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This is Tabitha, the calf’s mother. She and the other big ones are British White cattle.

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The two yearlings, number 45 & number 46:

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Finally, the baby, who is British White/Welsh Black:

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Lastly–this is Poppy, whom I feed every morning:

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And that’s the last of the animals for now. Next up: the spooky, the infamous, the Tower of London!