stories of travel, medical missions, and more
Should the summer sun break the night
and rise silently in the eastern sky;
bringing hues of reds and golds,
peeking through the trees and folds
of leaves,
then I shall be there
in the morning,
when the birds cry
their morning-warning.
And sitting on the deck
in the New Light
I shall watch the summer sun
break my night.
Hope of day begins.
anthony forrest
How can anybody put to paper a place like Iceland?
The Land of Fire and Ice—a mystical place of tradition and beauty, of art and literature.
Iceland’s natural resources are its greatest treasure. And I’m not just talking about the land itself. The tiny island the size of Ohio married the Viking people centuries ago. There’s never been a unification more seamless.
To my knowledge, Iceland is the only country in the world whose people did not displace or conquer another people group in order to live there. The Viking people landed on Iceland’s shores and found it cold and icy in the winter. But summer arrived. And much to their surprise, this icy land grew green and (relatively) lush. Settlement commenced.
And the land was far more than green. Cold, clean water flowed from bubbling springs. Grass fed their livestock. Steaming water from innumerable hot springs gave them heat. Mountains, glaciers, water, ocean, fish, and full summer sun—this land had it all. The only downside is the dark, dark winters (hence all the reading, see below).
Icelandic people strike me as similar to the Japanese. They pursue specific tasks and craft with similar passion, but for different reasons. The Japanese pursue excellence in so much of their lives. Order a coffee or go on a museum tour. The sheer excellence in what they do astounds me. But to them, seeking perfection gives them satisfaction in a job well done. It’s an honorable and accomplishing thing to do something at its highest form.
The Icelandic people also strive for excellence. But they do so for the joy of the thing. They work for the love of old, old traditions. Historic ways must not be lost. A hauntingly beautiful and mystical status quo needs to be upheld. And that’s not a bad thing. Their pursuits lean toward the crafts and arts. Whether metal work or writing, Icelandic art bleeds honest simplicity. You’ve never wanted to own a thick woolen sweater so badly in your life. The hand-dyed yarns come together lovingly. And they’re not just a souvenir—the Icelandic people wear them daily with pride.
They are a people of books and reading books. Reykjavik is a UNESCO City of Literature. I stopped into one of the many bookstores in Reykjavik. More books are published per capita than any other country in the world. According to a 2013 article from the BBC, one in 10 people will publish a book in their lifetime. And most of them are published during the Christmas season during a time called Jolabokaflod (or, Christmas Book Flood). Booksellers publish huge catalogues. And books are the most popular Christmas present.
Simple traditions, like reading and crafts, persist all over the country. Go for a drive. Look at the buildings, the homes. The first thing you will notice is the lack of variety. Most homes and churches and schools have the same cream-colored walls and red roofs. One of our friends found this odd. So she took it upon herself to find out why this was. She asked grocery store clerks, gas stations attendants, people on the streets; none knew the answer. Until finally one Icelander said that the predominate Christian denomination in the late 1800s was the Lutheran Church of Denmark. The Danish flag being red and white, most houses since then have been built reflect the Church of Denmark.
As always, the written surveys of places and cultures that you find written here, flow fully from my own mind and perspective. And if perspective is anything, it’s subjective—different for everybody. What you see and feel in a foreign place will, in fact, be far different than what I see and feel. And it seems like whenever I write about a place or a people, I find myself never quite capturing the truest nature of the thing. How can but a few words on a page elicit emotions and summon the ghosts of a strange land?
Alas, I try my darndest.
This quick glimpse may give you a basic idea of the Land of Fire and Ice.
But in the end, the best was to know a place is to go there.
anthony forrest
more on Iceland:
Iceland: on Covid testing and travel in a post-pandemic world
One sensation hit me unexpectedly when I stepped out of the airport in Keflavik, Iceland.
The smell.
And honestly it came as quite the shock that I still had a sense of smell after the nasal destruction that was Covid testing.
But there we stood, waiting for our rental car shuttle. I would say that I remembered my childhood home of Cody, Wyoming, but that’s not quite what I mean. When I caught the aroma of Iceland, I felt the feelings of being in Cody.
Not just any spot in Cody either; the smell transported me back to riding in a car on Southfork Rd. I would drive down the hill and turn right into Cody. But at the top of that hill, I would smell the same smell as I smelled here in Iceland. Directly below lay a small winding canyon. And in the bottom of that canyon lay the Shoshone River. And out of this river occasionally rose the steam of a hot springs.
I smelled the acidic hint of sulfur. I smelled it there in Cody as a young lad, but it never really phased me. All I knew was that it sometimes smelled like “rotten eggs.” Which, of course, is not entirely true. Sulfur from a hot spring will probably bot make you gag—actual rotten eggs on the other hand…
I smelled it there, and now I smelled it here. I was shocked at how prolific the scent was. It seemed to be everywhere; the gas stations, grocery store, bakery, and even our Airbnb. And juxtapose the cool, 50 degree slightly drizzly weather with the ever-present smell of a nearby hot spring, it made for quite the mystical atmosphere.
As I said, we stayed at an Airbnb. As the pleasant home owner showed us around the property, she made a motion to the sink faucet. In thick Icelandic accent (think Norway/Sweden/Germanic), she told us not to concern ourselves with the smell of the hot water. It smells like sulfur, she said. Of course, I thought everything had the smell of sulfur. But she continued and explained that the hot water comes from the, “mountain.”
“Mountain?” I asked. “Do you mean, like a hot spring?”
“Yes,” she agreed, “the hot water comes in pipes from the mountain.”
“Wait a minute,” tilting my head, “do you have a hot water heater?”
Blank look.
She repeated herself, “no, the hot water comes from the mountain.”
The house, indeed, had no hot water heater. A hot spring feeds a water plant at the foot of the nearby mountains. It is then piped in massive lines to the greater Reykjavik area, where it comes straight out of the tap near boiling. I turned the faucet on and waited for it to get as hot as it could. The steam billowed out of the tap!
One of the most iconic hot spring locations to visit in Iceland is The Blue Lagoon. What most people don’t realize is that The Blue Lagoon is not actually a naturally occurring hot spring lagoon area. Back in the late 70s, a geothermic power plant was founded in an ideal location near Keflavik and Reykjavik. Due to the high concentration of volcanoes in the area, geothermic energy accounts for nearly 90% of all building hot water and heat. The Svartsengi Power Station siphons hot water and steam from the bowels of the earth and produces clean energy for thousands of Icelanders. But the hot water runoff has to go someplace. What better thing to do with that already hot and highly mineralized water, than to create a spa where millions of tourists can bathe and spend their money? It might be your cup of tea, but I was looking for something a bit more, shall we say, natural?
But have no fear, Iceland literally sits on a pile of volcanoes. It takes little scouring to find a natural hot spring, or at least something less touristy. Just 40 minutes outside Reykjavik is the small town of Hveragerdi. The whole village lies in a field and valley of geothermic activity.
We drove our little car through the town and parked in a small dirt lot near a river. A trail would lead us to Reykjadalur hot spring; literally, smoke valley. And it wasn’t difficult to see how this place got its name. Steaming billows puffed from random spots in the fields and hills. A fireless grass fire roared all around us. The sign at the bottom of the hill declared the hike to the hot spring to be a 4 km trudge. But we were ready.
Though the hike was more than we bargained for, the scenery and end reward more than made up for it. Ethereal steam slowly sank upwards into the sky—a kind of slow-motion smoke show. Iceland has very little wildlife. Apart from a few birds, we saw very few creatures. This made our hike kind of haunting. No animals, steam rising all around us, and no other people around us made it feel a bit surreal.
The walking varied from very scenic, to barren like an Afghan desert. But soon, the trail slumped downhill and led us to a little valley where the steam got so thick it was palpable. A small river flowed through that little valley. Further ahead we saw that two rivers came together to form the one. The first river originated from high on the hill, where the water is so hot you can hardly manage to sit in it. The second river is much cooler.
These rivers converge and the temperature would make Goldilocks jealous. This is one of those spots I search for when traveling.
A “local” spot.
The fine folks of Hveragerdi keep the area very nice and have, over the years, added a boardwalk along portions of the deepest points of the river.
We wore our bathing suits under our clothes to makes things easy. The 48-degree F weather made the experience perfect. The water hugged us. This natural hot spring river constantly provides fresh water all around you. I wore a beanie cap and thoroughly enjoyed the soke. This was a “must-do” for me. I don’t give many travel tips. But I will say this: if you have a “must-do” during a trip, do not hesitate. Do that “must-do.”
The stream rose around us as I thought about the sulfur. I never really expected this place to smell, and even, somewhat look like parts of Cody, Wyoming. The unexpected occurrences teach me unexpected things. The strong smells of the earth’s breath made me feel connected to this place, as I am connected to Wyoming.
The minerals and sulfur may have smelled strong. But to me, it smelled like my old Home on the Range.
anthony forrest
More on Iceland:
Iceland: on Covid testing and travel in a post-pandemic world
*Disclaimer: The info written below was accurate at the time of travel. Some requirements have changed since then. Also, please respect all international travel guidelines. The following is not a good example.
We stood in line at the Keflavik Airport in Iceland, getting tested for Covid-19.
My leg twitched.
Tears flowed down my cheek.
She pulled the spear of death out of my nostril after twisting it like a screw driver three times. I think part of my soul came out on that q-tip. I’ve been tested many times. Never before have I been so violated in my entire life.
Such is the world we now live in.
I have not taken any time to write about the intricacies of travel in a post-pandemic world. Part of me wanted to avoid being another noisy voice in an already Covid-inundated world. Needless to say, nearly every aspect of travel has been changed in some way by the pandemic. From downright lockdowns and border closures, to the talk of “Covid Passports,” travel is slowly returning to what we consider “normal.”
My wife and I sat in the same boat as the rest of the world: we hadn’t traveled overseas in over a year, our longest stretch of US time in more than 7 years. So our return to international travel thrilled us.
And one of the first countries to reopen fully, without a 14-day quarantine, was Iceland. If we could only figure out the entry requirements.
The first step was easy. Each person traveling to Iceland had to either be 1) fully vaccinated and carrying an official vaccination card, or 2) carrying an official document stating that they had been diagnosed with Covid and recovered in the past 6 months.
Yes, this is frustrating. For as long as I can remember, the US passport had been the key to the world. And Americans are not used to restrictions and recommendations that involve our personal rights and personhood. We’re an independent and individualistic people. And there’s nothing wrong with that. But in an evolving global scene, it’s something for which we have to manage and adjust. Eventually, countries will no longer require a vaccine card. This week alone, most of the EU reopened to US travelers with no restrictions or vaccination requirements.
We then had to pre-register to cross into Iceland. The registration makes it so that they can tie our entry to our entry Covid test (more on that in a minute).
However, prior to entry, each traveler has to register and pay for a Covid test (to be completed in Iceland) within 72 hours of returning back to the US. This was a US requirement. At the time writing, the United States still requires a negative test no more than 3 days prior to the coming back, whether you’re vaccinated or not. In Iceland, the test runs you a cool 60 of your American Federal Reserve notes.
But don’t be fooled. All of these requirements have changed and will change again. Travel requirements remain constantly fluid (think about that phrase a moment) and ever changing. Requirements changed up until a week before our departure.
We deplaned after a 7-hour flight from Minneapolis to the Keflavik Airport. The only oddity was that we never received any kind of customs form on the plane. We just figured that we’d be asked a thousand questions at customs when we landed. Passport control, border security, customs, nobody ever asked us where we were staying or even which city we’d be in.
But soon after that, each passenger was herded to a line and fed through a trailer, just outside the airport.
A man at the counter asked us a couple of questions about our visit as he went through our papers. He also instructed us to download an app called Rakning C-19. This app would not only give us our test results, but it would also track our whereabouts, inform us of potentially Covid-dense areas, and send our whereabouts to the government should we leave a required quarantine. They would also send our results to our email address. Needless to say, I did not download this app.
And now we get back to the part where the lady violates my face.
It was different for each passenger, but for me, the lady testing me told me to put my hands at my side and not to move. She swabbed my throat first. Then she produced a corn-stalk-sized q-tip and crammed it four inches into the darkness of my cranial space. I’ve been tested many times. This was a different animal. I may not recover.
Icelandic government tells each tourist that they must wait for a negative result prior to leaving their respective hotels, or, in our case, an Airbnb. Each of the six of us traveling together had been vaccinated. And each of us had actually had Covid in the past six months. If there was a more immune group on the island, I would have been shocked.
The last thing we wanted to do was stay in our rooms.
So…we didn’t. We had heard it would take at least four hours (possibly up to 24 hours) to hear back from the government about our test results. So when we got to our Airbnb, we took a nap and cleaned up from a long day of travel. And when we had rested, out the door we went.
Later that night, after a crazy and great day of Icelandic fun, I checked my email.
Lo and behold, here’s what I had in my inbox:
Hi Anthony,
Your Covid test came back inconclusive. Please contact me by responding to this e-mail.
An inconclusive result always leads to isolation and the Instructions for persons under home-based isolation must be followed.
A sleep deprived and jet-lagged mind like mine immediately thought of the worst, “I’m going to be on a two-week quarantine at some Red Cross facility in Iceland.” There was no way I was positive for Covid. There had to be some mistake. I was vaccinated, already had Covid, and was symptom free. And there was no way I was flying to Iceland just to sit in an Airbnb for the entire trip. Especially since there was no way I had Covid. Our group got to talking and decided on one thing: the Icelandic Government does not have our location, and nobody downloaded the tracking app.
We threw caution to the wind and continued our trip.
Later, another email:
Anthony
Please be in touch about your Covid test.
The plan was simple. By this time, we were already two days into a five-day trip. Which meant that we had to get another test the following morning for our return to the US. I’d hold off communication with the Icelandic Covid Police, get my test, and send them my negative results.
So we did that. The next day, we went to Reykjavik for our test. This time, a testing lady told me to stand against the wall and put my hands to my side. She was even worse than the first lady. Must have been her older, angrier aunt or something. We suffered again.
But the test results came back negative. Confident, I attached them to a reply email, and sent it on its way. I stuffed my phone in my pocket and forgot all about it.
But later that night, I had another email waiting for me:
Hello Anthony
I hope you are aware that you were not allowed to take the test at this Centre and you were lucky that you got away with it since you were inconclusive at the airport.
Wow, I was lucky that I got away with it. I had taken the test at the wrong location. My communication with this person was done. The last thing I needed in life was to unintentionally end up in an Icelandic prison. Our return trip went well and we had no trouble at the border. Although, when we got to the part where they check your Covid test information, I was a bit nervous, waiting for a SWAT team to spring out and haul me away. But nothing happened.
I don’t have Covid.
Iceland doesn’t hate me.
And their restrictions have probably since changed anyway.
But still, it felt like a narrow escape.
anthony forrest
**Edit: as of today, July 1, 2021, Iceland no longer requires Covid testing, quarantine, or face masks. The time to travel there is now.
© 2024 Travel and Verse
Theme by Anders Noren — Up ↑