Passport

While my passport is at the Chinese consulate, I'm temporarily grounded. While it's probably possible to drive to Buffalo and catch a domestic flight within the US from there, I'm not going to take a chance. Not these days, when a day of jet-skiing can land you in detention.

Sometimes it's easy to forget the significance of having a passport, or the potential problems of having the "wrong" one.

Like at the UK Immigration checkpoint at Gare du Nord in Paris, where a Canadian passport gets a cursory inspection, a couple of gruff questions, and a Channel Tunnel stamp. Meanwhile, the "Asian" family [in Canada, the more commonly-used term would be "South Asian"] right behind, with green-coloured passports, gets the third degree.

Aside from US Citizenship and Immigration, the last time I felt this personally was in Iceland. As the European Union expands, certain countries have become very defensive, with their immigration policies and increased scrutiny of non-Schengen passports.

As I handed over my passport, I watched the officer flip through, waiting for something to happen. Waiting, until he reached the page with the US work visa. He did not try to hide his "wow" reaction, but let me through. It was a long wait though, for my new friend Haya.

While in the clearance area behind the booths, we were both pulled aside again. Couldn't help but notice that they picked out the two non-Scandinavians. Passports were taken for photocopying, no doubt to be added to an immigration watch list.

At the end of the trip, that passport is still the only universally accepted ticket home.

Rounders

No, not Rounders, but rounders.

As Iceland sits between Europe and the Americas, this game sits between cricket and baseball, bridging together Britons and Americans, and any Canadian hangers-on.

Play Ball

When all you have is a cricket bat, everything starts to look like a cricket ball.

Lagoon

Flashback: Tuesday, July 20, 2004

After a hard day of surveying, and dodging the skuas, a pleasant surprise trip to the Jökulsárlón (glacial lagoon).

Placid

If it looks familiar, you may have seen this place before, in Lara Croft: Tomb Raider or Die Another Day.

Circling

The tour boats are actually amphibious boats with wheels, painted grey for Angelina Jolie's visit.

Bridge

It is rumoured that they use tugboats to keep the bergs in the lagoon for the tourists. I wonder if they also tow away the muddy and unsightly ones.

Calving

The Breiðamerkurjökull which feeds the lagoon is rapidly retreating. One day this may all be gone.

Jökulsárlón Panorama

Ice Climb

Flashback: Saturday, July 17, 2004

Our ride today is the trusty Volvo Laplander - the Swedish Jeep.

Laplander

It's a dangerous path up to Svinafellsjökull. The weather is also miserably rainy, for the first time since we got here.

Dangerous Path

I have many rucksacks with loops for an ice axe, and now I have the axe. With the crampons attached to the boots, and some instruction and practice on how to stop a fall, it's up the glacier we go.

Climbing

While we're not actually tackling vertical walls, it's a pretty dangerous path on the ice as well. One of our party was from Israel, where he's presumably done some military training. Yet he almost took a tumble, saved only by an older lady.

Crevasse

On the one side is a sharp drop into oblivion. On the other, is a gentle rolling slope for about 15 metres, and then a sharp drop into oblivion. To add insult to injury, the large super-glacial ice crystals would probably shred your waterproof trousers on the way down.

Icy Waves

Like a sea of ice, the glacier ripples out, all the way to the mountains.

Day Hike

Flashback: Wednesday, July 21, 2004

Maybe it's because I never play hard (or often) enough, but very fortunately (touch wood), I've never been seriously injured in sports [until November 2006, unfortunately]. A few months prior, I'd landed my left foot awkwardly during a squash game, and could still feel the occasional twinge in the ankle.

The Trek Begins

Today, Hart and I are putting ourselves to the test, taking our turn at a big hike. Fuelled by our standard rations of cheese and Nutella sandwiches, we were looking at a full day in the hills.

Sjónarsker Viewpoint

Above the hexagonal basalt formations surrounding the Svartifoss, is the first landmark, with obligatory panorama sundial.

Skaftafellsheiði

It's all so verdant here. Among the mosses and tall grass of the heiði (heath), we take lunch. It's a pleasant day, and pleasant conversation.

Long uphill climb

One of many reasons for taking this trip was a milestone birthday, and a sense of time slipping away. I could only hope that I'm a fraction as strong as Hart when I'm in my 60's. Not many people could survive being run over by a motorboat in a drunken hit-and-run like he did. It can't be that easy, but he still handles the climb very well. For scale, note the figures ahead, walking up the path.

Over the Edge

The more daring members of the group are going to the Kjós Valley, tucked in behind the mountain on the left, around the bend. It's supposed to be spectacular, but it doesn't seem as scenic a route, trudging along the Morsárdalur, looking up at the mountains. At least that's what I tell myself. From up here, we also get to see part of the Morsárjökull, and the lake at its base, from afar.

Kristínartindar

The highest summit on this side of the glacier is the ridge on Kristínartindar. That will be left for next time.

The Real Prize

It's good that we chose the clockwise direction. The views just kept getting better and better, until we reached Gláma on the east, overlooking the glacier. Note the adventurous photographer behind the rock. Don't step back!

Gláma Viewpoint

According to GPS, it's over 400 m down. To solid ice. This unadventurous photographer will stay well back from the edge. Especially after Hart almost lost his footing in the wind.

Skaftafellsjökull panorama

The scale of this place seems scarcely believable. You can't even take it all in without turning your whole body around. No wide angle lens is wide enough, which is where digital comes in.

Long way down

On the downward path, there's one last lookout from Sjónarnípa, over the foot of Skaftafellsjökull. Then it's trudging back through the brush, down to camp.

Breaking Up

By my reckoning, at least 15 km, in a leisurely 7.5 hours, including a lunch stop. Not a bad day at all. Unforgettable.

I can see for miles and miles

"Getting older sucks, but it sure beats the alternative: getting deader." - Joe C.

In the Drink

It's been a long winter, with much more snow fall than in recent memory. I suppose I've been fortunate to have been out of town during the major storms of the season, and also to have someone contracted to shovel my sidewalk and driveway.

No Parking

Even managed to avoid the chaos at the airport, although there were massive snowbanks which dwarfed the regional jets.

Snow Barrier

Now that the snow is finally melting away, I've been thinking a lot about water recently. Also been reading more about it in the news. Not sure if I or the media are just paying closer attention, or if we're now seeing more and more indisputable signs of a true global crisis, as many have warned before.

Beating a Retreat

The solution will not be a technological quick-fix, but much more difficult, massive societal change. And flying jets on biofuel won't cut it either.

Volcano!

The last time I visited a volcano, another one nearby erupted, shortly after I got home.

Öraefajökull (Hvannadalshnúkur)

The volcanic streak continues.

Volcán Osorno

The main difference in Chile is less ice, and more water, such as Lago Llanquihue

Osorno (left) and Calbuco (foreground)

In today's news:
Volcán Llaima eruption a mere 300 km north.

Solstice

It was the longest day of the year, and I spent most of it indoors.

Midnight Sun

It's been almost three years now since this photo was taken. There was a sudden surge (30+) in views of it on Flickr today, probably because of the season. Maybe this post will help add to that total.

One last drink

The bus ride back to Keflavík is uneventful, but the terminal building is absolutely bustling - more people than I've seen in three weeks. Many of those arriving are Icelanders returning from shopping trips or other business abroad. The duty free store is my last chance to contribute to local commerce. There is a neat gift set of the Black Death (Brennivín), with matching glasses. That should do nicely...

Taking a day off

Flashback: Thursday, July 29, 2004

After 18 days of travel, today is downtime, until the afternoon bus back to Keflavík. No cameras, no rucksack. Temporarily no longer a tourist, but just living as the locals do.

After the traditional light Scandinavian breakfast, and a slow morning packing up, it's a walk to the Kringlan shopping centre. Of course, today, the skies finally opened up again, and turned it into a long, long walk in the pouring rain.

It's a modern mall, like any other, but I didn't travel all this way to shop. Just looking around, including stepping into the 66° Norður store, then stepping out empty-handed again, one last time. The only products in my price range were rather silly looking fleece hats, for which I wouldn't even pay that price.

Lunch will be in the food court today. The Economist magazine keeps track of what it calls the Big Mac Index. Based on the assumption that a Big Mac is always identical, at any McDonald's restaurant anywhere in the world, it measures the relative consumer purchasing power in each country.

A Big Mac for 439 ISK (about $9 CAD) is out of the question. No Kebabhús today, thank you. I'll stick to the slightly healthier Mexican salad a couple of shops over.

For the return trip back to the hotel, a taxi is the smarter way to go. After checking out, I have a quiet half hour, sitting in the hotel lobby, flipping through the Morgunblaðið. To an observer, I might even have appeared to be able to read Icelandic, perusing articles about the (increasing) comparative price of fisk at Bónus and other outlets, scanning the adverts to marvel at the cost of living, or reading the daily horoscopes (Pisces is Fiskarnir in Icelandic).

Then the airport bus arrives, and I'm on the way out of the country.

A night on the town

It was nice to share a meal with a friend in a foreign country (the fish and chips were OK, but not the best in the world). As much as I'd like to go out for a drink, and also avoid the rain, this is my last night in Reykjavík. I'll try to swing by the popular drinking spots later that evening, but I'm going walkabout.

First stop is the harbour, where two interesting ships are moored.

V/s Týr - flagship of the Icelandic Coast Guard

Akademik Sergey Vavilov - Arctic/Antarctic tour boat

There are quite diverse architectures, all within walking distance.

Alþingi (Parliament Building)

Raðhús (City Hall)

Raðhús up close

Tjörn (Pond)

A house

The city skyline is dominated by the church.

Hallgrímskirkja

Nearby, is a statue donated by the US in 1930, on the 1000th anniversary of the Alþing.

Leifr Eiricsson (sic)

I've made my way halfway across town by now. Might as well take a walk along the seashore.

Sun-Craft (by Jón Gunnar Árnason)

I think this new building under construction has a geothermal heating system, similar to those being tested at Battery Park City in New York City.

Geothermal apartments?

There is also a house where many distinguished heads of state and other guests have stayed. It is probably most famous as the site of a Reagan-Gorbachev summit meeting in 1986.

Höfði House

I make my way back downtown along Laugavegur. There's nothing I'd like to buy, but I do look in at several of the drinking establishments, to see if Mary is around. Alas, she is not there.

Before I get on the shuttle bus back to the hotel, there is one last look at the founding father of Reykjavík.

Ingólfur Arnarson

What's a geologist like you doing in a place like this?

After returning to the hotel, it's time to finally see Reykjavík. The shuttle bus ride downtown takes mere minutes, and drops you off on Lækjargata. This street and Bankastræti/Laugavegur are the main commercial areas, filled with shops and restaurants.

Kebabhúsið bills its fish and chips as the best in the world ("After you eat here, don't go to London!" ). A pretty big claim for a small chain. Still, I just have to try it once.

After picking up my order and sitting at a table, who should I meet, but Mary Chapman...

Þingvellir

Þingvellir is the third national park in Iceland that I've visited on this trip. As always, I have to leave something undone for the return trip. The fourth and newest national park is Snæfellsnes in the west.

Þingvellir (the Plain of the Alþing, or Parliament) was the first national park, created more for its geological and historical significance, rather than sheer natural beauty. That said, it's still probably a pleasant place to visit in good weather. The children are getting bored, and with the rain pouring down, we won't be staying long.

Geology

Þingvallavatn

Gullfoss

The Gullfoss is the nicest looking waterfall I've seen yet. Not quite the same raw power as the Dettifoss, but refreshing in its natural beauty.

Gullfoss

On a sunny day, or in winter, it must be even more spectacular.

Gullfoss - from higher up

It's not that tall, and could almost be hidden, among the green hills.

Gullfoss - upper part

Gullfoss - lower part up close

Hot Dog!

The Icelandic hot dog, or pýlsur, is like the kind you find at a 7-11 (or 10-11 in Iceland). Not terribly good or good for you, but cheap and available anywhere, all the time. Two rather sad looking pýlsur constitute lunch today, sprinkled with the traditional fried onion bits.

Then it's time to herd all the children back on board the bus, and off to our next destination. More interesting cultural facts enroute:

Icelanders start English language studies from age 11, and Danish from age 12. This explains the proficiency in English of most residents, and why Microsoft once considered withdrawing Icelandic translation/localization for Windows.

There are nine public universities and colleges in Iceland, where tuition is free. The two private universities charge about $3000 per year. Many Icelanders then go abroad, mostly to Scandinavia, for more specialised study and research.

The only native animal of Iceland is the Arctic Fox. All others were imported, with varying degrees of catastrophe (mink, squirrels, raccoons). The many, many (over one million) sheep which roam the countryside are atypically individualistic, and certainly act that way. The Icelandic horse (of which there are 70 thousand) is another unique animal, shorter and stockier than other breeds, with a distinctive gait.

Icelandic horses

Due to the short growing season, farms in Iceland are heavily subsidized.

Icelandic farm