The Icelandic language is the closest Nordic language to the old Norse of the Viking, as the other Scandinavian countries have customized it to nigh unrecognizable. Fine. We elevate and climb to the top of the unpronounceable church Hallgrímskirkja, we look out on the houses of Reyjkavik, the capital city that holds two thirds of Iceland’s entire population. I pull out the kind of gigantic lens that makes everyone in the church tower raise their eyebrows, jab it through the narrow slot between stone columns, and I flatten the vivid colored houses that I can only assume the Icelanders paint to brighten spirits in lengthy winters with 4 hours of daylight. Mission accomplished.
Some two years after staggering through the Scotland wilds, the girl and I went northward to the land of volcanic fire and glacial calm. Thus begins the Iceland photo journey, and in Sept 2018, we–like many of the 2MM annual tourists visiting a country of roughly 300K folks–went to the Blue Lagoon. We paid the pretty penny to wade languidly around geothermal plant wastewater and cover our faces in a pleasant silica mud, and by God, we enjoyed the classy experience of it all. TIP: Go early near opening time, and you avoid the hordes that eventually swarm the place.