When telling people I was going to Iceland at the weekend, I felt compelled to add the phrase "That's the country, not the freezer supermarket." just to clarify. People still looked at me as if I was a bit odd. But Reykjavik has long been on my list of of interesting places to visit. All those hot geezers (sp?) and volcanic rocks. Not to mention the £9 pints I'd been warned about. Let me tell you, Iceland did not disappoint. The husband and I flew with British Airways from Gatwick on a dull British afternoon (13 degrees) and arrived in sunny Keflavik (6 degrees!) three hours later. The handy bus from the airport took us to the capital of Iceland, and the most inhabited part of the island, Reykjavik. It took forty minutes of what seemed like driving along one straight road, surrounded on all sides by a bleak landscape of black volcanic rock with some snow capped mountains in the distance. Iceland is about the same size as England, yet has just under three hundred thousand people living there, half of which live in Reykjavik. It's an affluent country with little crime and very high standards in education. It also might be cheap to get there but my goodness you'll be needing to save some pennies if you actually want to do anything when you're there.
Our hotel was a seven minute walk from the centre part of the city, called Hotel Bjork. The rooms were large and clean and we had great views of the harbour ,the mountains...and the local Mercedes garage. Reykjavik seems to be a cross between a large industrial estate full of large warehouse type apartments and buildings and a scandinavian fishing harbour with picturesque little houses and lodges, each with a different pastel coloured roof. A short walk took us to the main shopping street Laugevegur, which is long and takes you right through the centre of the city past lots of little boutiques and cafes and arty shops. I also noticed a fantastic tattoo parlour called The House of Pain, which I laughed at. Mind you, I'd also seen the prices of the pizza place opposite and was probably delirious at this point. Hunger had definitely set in at this stage and we threw caution (and bank balances) to the wind and went in, tempted by the thought of some fresh Icelandic fish (me) and a quattro formaggi with pepperoni and a heart attack (my husband) . The place was rusticly decorated and the waitresses spoke perfect English, as do most Icelanders. Iceland's water is said to be the best in the world and we were served fresh spring water straight from the tap. We stayed off the wine as we'd been warned about the expense (the average seemed to be the equivalent of thirty quid a bottle. Now when you're a Lambrusco kind of a girl, that's a years supply...) and settled for soft drinks. The majority of party loving locals make a point of staying in and drinking at home on a Saturday night, then heading out about midnight to party till dawn. Thus saving a fortune. Now, food; the menu said Calamari salad, and I had visions of freshly caught that morning, roughly breaded calamari on a bed of succulent Iceland greens and juicy tomatoes with a fresh lemony dressing. What I got potentially had come from Iceland. And this time I do mean the freezer supermarket. Ah well. The husband's pepperoni was tasty mind you . As it should be for sixteen quid!
But Reykjavik's not just about the expense. The air is clear and the views from the city are amazing. Not to mention the fact that when we went at the end of May, it was almost 24 hour daylight. There's something almost naughty about being outside at nearly midnight and the sky being clear and sunny. It feels wrong. Unfortunately, we were too late in the year for the Northern lights but they're not to be missed on a clear night.
The next morning we clambered onto a coach for a city tour that took us around the major cultural and historical site. We stopped at the presidential residence at Bessastaðir, where you're almost close enough to see into the presidents kitchen, (He sometimes waves apparently!) the huge impressive Hallgrímskirkja church and unusual restaurant Perlan that is built on the city's hot water tanks. Final stop was Höfði house which is famous for the summit meeting between Reagan and Gorbachev in 1986. After a spot of lunch at the most amazing hot dog stand in all of Iceland situated at Tryggvagata 101, (I don't know what they do to them, but they are manna from heaven) we got back on the coach for a forty minute journey for a little outdoor swim!
The Blue Lagoon is basically a geothermal beach. Locals and tourists come from miles around to bathe in the milky blue water, heated from underneath by the steaming volcanic rock. The water is full of active, natural ingredients- salts, silica and blue green algae that's great for the skin and incredibly relaxing, once you get used to the smell of sulphur! We spent hours just drifting, basking in the sunshine. Watch out for the showers mind you, they insist you shower naked before and after bathing and I wasn't that keen on a busload of scandanavian model look-alikes seeing my inner thighs.
Our bus driver had recommended a fish buffet restaurant for dinner, so once we'd been dropped back, washed the crusty Blue Lagoon residue from our ears, we walked back into the city centre. "Try the ice bar." our guide had said, which was attatched to the restaurant. "Ask for a 'black death'." Never one to turn down a challenge, we marched in, and a very pleasant man gave us a quilted coat (it's -4 degrees inside) and led us into a room that in another life may well have been a storage room, but had ice walls, ice stools and an ice bar, where he poured us some strange alcoholic concoction that burned a bit going down but when you're sitting on an ice block, had a strangely warming effect! Yum! (eleven quid each! Yup, seeing the bill certainly made it rise a few degrees in temperature!) Unfortunately we could only take ten minutes of the cold before needing a break, so wimped out into the main fish restaurant where the buffet stood gleaming, with a good ten different kinds of fresh fish to choose from. Again it wasn't cheap, but the fish was delicious and I could probably have eaten my own body weight in the peppered trout. Luckily we had the walk back to the hotel, to burn it off, stopping off for a nose around an Icelandic supermarket (funny yoghurts! Dill flavour crisps!) on Laugevegur before going to bed in the sunshine at midnight. All in all, a thoroughly satisfying 36 hours.
No comments:
Post a Comment