No Snakes In Iceland

(not Ireland; that was Frederick Forsyth)

There are no snakes - for that matter no reptiles or amphibians - in Iceland. The only snakes you might perhaps see are sand snakes and snow snakes and those are not snakes, not even living creatures. I admire snakes and you only have to scroll through my Instagram account to see that but macro photography and what it entails having contributed to a pause in my camera photography (more of that later), I’m glad there was no serpent in that country to lead me to temptation on our recent jaunt through parts of Iceland.

There are people though; not too many of them, but the landscape is definitely splattered occasionally with human presence if you hang around long enough. About 4 people per square kilometre. The country’s resident people number just about 400,000. I suspect the Mumbai suburb of Andheri has more people than that. It’s a stark contrast; India’s teeming multitudes, weather (mostly searing summers with a choice of dry or humid, occasional temperate climes, often cold winters), assault of sound, overwhelming complexity that is in-your-face, rich colours, incredible variations of food and culture versus the sparseness, brutal cold and wind, minimal elegance, layered subtlety, quite a sparse menu even for non-vegetarians of this island of the North. I’m not saying one is better than the other; only an observation that it’s a cultural sauna going from one country to the other, rapidly moving from one extreme to the other.

There are are were no mosquitoes in Iceland. The increasing warmth of the place - well, of the world - invited some in recently.

From what I gathered, the country went about its life for a long while stationed well below the tourist radar. That misty cloak of obscurity has gradually been lifted but more rapidly in the recent few years. My wife and I witnessed the extent of tourist inflow first-hand even in the short 11-day stay that we had. The capital city of Reykjavik was bustling the first couple of days that we were there and then after our return to the city following our jaunt in other parts of the island, we were greeted by quietude and large gaps between one person and the next. A lot of tourists - a huge number were from one country which has apparently the entire first week of October declared a holiday - had exited. For now the citizens of Iceland are at worst mildly bemused by the attention they are getting but it may not be long before the annoyance and attendant calls for influx control kick in as has been happening in many countries in Europe. I wouldn’t blame them. As things stand though, the people there seem nice and helpful; that was our experience. For instance, when I casually enquired for a record store, the young woman at our hotel reception desk asked a couple of her friends/colleagues one of whom made a strong recommendation, looked up the place, showed me what it looks like, and how to get there. She could’ve just told me the name of the place and didn’t need to do all the rest. Nice people, like I said. Quite a long way from the brutal reputation that Vikings had, perhaps still have. There must have been a fair amount of truth to it in the past but I doubt if it was the only truth. That stark picture was painted by the populace of such places as the British isles and France who were prime targets of Viking raids. Ironic, considering that they themselves went on to inflict worse horrors on a much larger geography and for far longer, the effects of which are not wholly erased yet. Yesterday’s victim is so often today’s oppressor; we see that all the time, even right now. Anyway, this brown man has no complaints about experienced Viking behaviour in the present. BTW, I found an LP at that recommended record store that I have sought for a few years from different sources across countries because it has long ceased being pressed. It was in great condition and it came at a shockingly low price. Nope, definitely not complaining.

The Land of Fire and Ice. But let’s talk about what we have wrought first. The human-made structures in Iceland adopt a starkness that perhaps deliberately reflects the land and the environment. The famed church Hallgrimskirkja takes diverges slightly but even that is characterised by sharp straight lines, just that the lines are stacked up spectacularly. That is not to say that the other monuments are drab. Far from it. Harpa close to the Old Harbour in Reykjavik is one of the most stunning performance spaces that I’ve come across. The Black Church at Budir or this lone building stationed on the cliffs above the Arnarstapi coast are great examples of architecture that leaves one slack-jawed even if they are characterised by severe simplicity. The reason for the continuum of stunned reaction is the beautiful harmony between them and their surrounding; a harmony that is moving, that is uplifting.

The Land of Fire and Ice. Iceland is a high point in the longest mountain range on earth, the Mid-Atlantic Ridge which mostly runs submerged and effectively divides the Americas continental plates from the Eurasian and African ones. Its geographic peculiarities make it home to snow-capped mountains, glaciers, and active volcanoes. We saw glaciers for sure; in fact the largest one in Europe, the Vatnajokull ice-cap. No active volcanoes, no regrets. What was hot - and very, very cool to visit and see - was the place that gave rise to a familiar name. Geysir. I was witness to some quite heavy geyser activity as water heated up by sub-surgace lava spouted through vents! And at the end of the last one which I saw, I got quite drenched. The water wasn’t hot at all because by the time it hit me the cold in the air had injected a whole lotta chill in it.

The Land of Fire and Ice. Iceland is not just that. It’s a land of spectacular rainbows and stunning waterfalls too. I saw more rainbows in less than two weeks there than I have in the rest of my fifty-five years of living. And the first full rainbow, end-to-end; not arc to the tangent but the full bow. Now, don’t say that if only the earth weren’t there as an interruption, there would be circular rainbows 🙄 The country abounds in waterfalls; small one, big ones, all beautiful ones. My favourite by a very thin margin was Oxararfoss in the Thingvellir National Park. There’s something welcoming about it, perhaps because it’s not imposing. And it is located in a place of rare importance, culturally and geologically. Thingvellir is where of old the Icelandic parliament, the Althing, used to be held annually from AD 930 to 1798. And this is in the rift valley that forms the top of the Mid-Atlantic Ridge that I mentioned and marks the boundary between the North American and Eurasian continental plates.

The Land of Fire and Ice. This is a country blessed with heart-aching beauty with streams and waterfalls drawing curves and lines over mountains and basalt rock formations, windswept meadows of yellow and green vying with the rich blackness of volcanic soil. A place of strong contrasts without tripping into gaudiness. Elegance abounds. So unique these Icelandscapes!

One of the many peculiarities of Iceland is that people can and do own waterfalls and glaciers and even volcanoes!

With all that we saw and experienced, my wife and I (I can’t speak for the others in our group of travellers) weren’t downcast about not being able to see the Aurora Borealis or Northern Lights - the ‘star’ attraction of this trip - the first few nights. This is a phenomenon that happens many kilometres above the earth as the result of interaction of the magnetosphere above earth with solar flares or storms. A reasonably clear sky is essential - but not the only factor - to view auroras. For the first few days we had very cloudy skies even when aurora activity and intensity were high. But the weather changes up in the northern reaches of the world frequently and we had two glorious evenings of unhindered sighting of what one may term an epic cosmic dance. Unhindered but not entirely undisturbed; the night was rent occasionally by near-orgasmic exclamations of my group every time the lights did a jig. Thankfully I chose to station myself at a distance otherwise who knows what would’ve happened to a sexy thing like me! 😎

Such infrequent infringements to the sacredness of the night aside, to see the Lights dancing in the skies was to be witness to one of nature’s greatest and most spectacular magic shows. After some time, I stopped clicking pictures, lay down on a nearby bench and just watched. One can well imagine why people back in time must have thought these were the souls of their ancestors sending them signs, inscrutable but clear signs nevertheless.

Of Monsters And Men is a music band from Iceland. I wonder if their name was inspired by sheep.

Iceland’s landscape is dotted by, among other things, sheep which have been denizens of the island since the time humans settled here in AD 874. They are wool and meat to the citizens and tourists here. But to me they seemed a dark, brooding menace. I formed this idea in my head - I am ever-full of ideas - that these sheep are unique, that they are flesh-eating sheep. I just didn’t like the look in their eyes. The one time I made a friendly overture to them, two of these vicious barbarians raced, mad eyes and everything, towards me. I was saved only by a fence and an exit whose rapidity was astounding in a creature of my bulk. It may be just my fancy but I have sworn off eating lamb, sheep balls, or any meat that comes off the damn beasts.

Oh, well! I am vegetarian anyway.

The horses on the other hand are incredibly friendly. You get somewhere in the vicinity of half a kilometre to one of them, it’ll come to you and then the rest will too. Companionable silence and pleasing nuzzles will follow. I’ve never before seen horses this friendly. Unlike afore-mentioned sheep, these animals don’t seem to have any sense of self-preservation. I wanted to shed a few tears for such innocence but the cold and the wind dried up my eyes.

Pink Floyd on their album ‘Animals’ had three songs with pigs in their titles, one song called “Dogs”, and another “Sheep”. Nothing at all for horses. Pink Floyd should have visited Iceland.

Iceland blew our minds. And our wallets.

It wasn’t just on account of the at-times-100 kmph-winds. This is the most expensive country that I’ve visited. Norway seemed reasonable in comparison and that is saying a lot. This is a country where you must wear your let-it-go even if you’re starkers otherwise (you might still be stripped bare by the end of your trip). A German friend of mine, musician and founder of the band The Ocean, Robin Staps during the course of a chat before my travel told me that Iceland is terribly expensive. I replied saying I know, I’ve heard. But I informed him that we had sold a house. He said “Ah! then you should be okay.”

I can understand why it is expensive. It is remote and for all its exceptional natural beauty, it’s a hard place to live in. It is paradoxical that for a land with such fertile soil, it is difficult to grow much on it baulked as one is by nature’s storm, fire, and ice. In yet another paradox, electricity is free and because the water is so clean that you can drink it straight from the springs or from your room taps, that too is free (unless you insist on bottled water but you’ll lose that adamance soon enough) but a cup of coffee will set you back by INR 700-800 or 9-10 Euros.

A visit here can be a strange, long trip indeed but you will be grateful before you’re dead that you did. The most incredible thing about Iceland to me is that I didn’t see a single cop (if one discounts their presence in the two far-off police cars that I sighted the entire trip)! What could be better than that?