I wasn’t sure the exact date I could leave for Europe until just a few weeks before my trip, so by the time I started looking for flights, the only ones I could afford were those with fairly significant layovers. I decided I wanted to fly through a place I hadn’t been before, preferably with enough time to actually leave the airport and explore a bit. IcelandAir offered a flight to Paris with an eighteen-hour layover in Reykjavík, which, I reasoned, would give me an entire day there and plenty of time to experience the city.
My flight landed at the Keflavik International Airport at 6:20am on September 15th. The airport (Iceland’s largest) is located about 50km southwest of Iceland’s capital, Reykjavík; it’s approximately a 45-minute drive to get from the airport to the Reykjavík city center and there are busses that run every half hour or so between the two points. A good portion of the bus route runs along the coast, and my first glimpses of Iceland – illuminated by the early morning light from the sunrise – were absolutely spectacular.
The bus stopped at several hotels on the way into the city center. The center was the final stop, and by the time we’d arrived, there were only two of us left (evidently, all of the other passengers were actually staying overnight). We disembarked on the side of what appeared to be a very busy and industrial road, the driver pointed vaguely in the direction of a bakery where we could get breakfast, and we we were left to our own devices.
The other passenger – whose name I soon learned was Rob – was, like me, only spending time in Reykjavík between flights (although, unlike me, he was only there for seven hours, as opposed to my eighteen). He was coming from Boston, where he’d been helping his girlfriend’s brother move into UMass Amherst, and he was headed back to the UK later that day.
Neither of us much liked the look of the bakery recommended by the bus driver, so we opted to hunt down a cafe we’d seen earlier from the bus named Kaffitár (Icelandic for “caffeine”). Located up a little side street much more charming than the road where we’d been dropped off, the cafe itself was very lively and crowded. We ordered cappuccinos and breakfast, and sat down to regroup.
The fascinating thing about traveling – especially when you travel alone, and even more so if you travel to a place you’ve never been – is that it completely changes the way you perceive things. It’s as if where you came from or where you’re going ceases to matter. In the process of traveling, you’re simply you – in that exact place, at that exact time, and you experience things in such a different way than you do in a context with which you’re familiar. Reality, or at the least, normalcy, becomes a very abstract idea. As far as this pertained to Rob, I was almost instantly comfortable around him; we’d known each other for less than thirty minutes, but it felt like we’d been friends for ages. You can come from such totally different places, backgrounds, and perspectives, but taken out of context, you’re two individual people sharing a common experience, and that becomes the primary thing that matters.
Neither Rob nor I knew much about Reykjavík, so we left Kaffitár and began to walk in the direction of the first landmark we saw: Reykjavík’s Hallgrímskirkja church – the largest church and sixth tallest structure in Iceland. The church was constructed between the years 1945 and 1986, and was designed to resemble the lava flows characteristic of Iceland’s landscape. It’s a unique structure, to say the least, although neither Rob nor I found it particularly aesthetically pleasing. For 6 euro, you can take a lift to the top of the church, from which you can see 360º views of Reykjavík spread out below (apparently, the Icelandic people are quite trusting: although the church office hadn’t opened yet for the day, there was a barrel outside the lift where you could leave your admission fee).
Once we’d left the church, we set out to explore the city by foot, strolling through the streets in the general direction of the harbor. We walked along the waterfront for some time, until we arrived at another very odd architectural structure that was constructed entirely of multi-colored geometric glass panels: the Harpa Reykjavík, a concert hall and conference center.
Construction on the Harpa was only just completed in 2011. This is something interesting about Reykjavík: the fact that, although the area has been inhabited for a very long time, most of its architecture and infrastructure is really quite new. Over the last decade, Iceland has experienced a period of economic growth colloquially known as the “Nordic Tiger” years. In addition, Iceland is clearly also on a campaign to increase its tourism, which makes for something of an interesting dynamic: everything you see in Iceland seems to emphasize the country’s rich history and tradition, but the majority of major landmarks and manmade structures are very new. As a result, it feels like you’re in something of a fantasy world while you’re there (although granted, this may also have been due to our complete lack of sleep), and it can almost be a bit disconcerting at times. That being said, the people of Reykjavík seem to be extremely friendly and helpful as a whole, and the city is extremely clean.
By now we’d both been awake for close to 24 hours, had each traveled some 3,000 miles, and had been wandering the streets of Reykjavík for at least four hours with heavy bags. Also, Iceland is quite cold. I came somewhat prepared, but even dressed in three layers and a scarf, walking by the water for any length of time wasn’t entirely enjoyable.
After a quick calculation to ensure it was an acceptable time to start drinking in at least ONE of our native countries (his won out over mine), we stopped into a cafe for beers (and an excessively large piece of carrot cake for Rob).
The rest of the day was spent wandering around the center. Reykjavík is not a very big place, and we covered the majority of the city center quite quickly. At 2:30pm, Rob left for the airport, and I stopped into a little cafe I’d passed on the main street, Sandholt, for a quick rest before venturing back out on my own.
Later in the afternoon, I stopped in for a glass of wine at a quirky little cafe – with stone walls and eccentric decor – called Stofan Cafe. It was a hip little spot with both an upstairs and downstairs (and bars on both floors), and seemed to attract quite a few locals. It was the perfect place for a quick rest, since I’d been awake for close to thirty hours by that point and was quickly waning.
In the evening, I set out to find a restaurant recommended to me by one of my best friends, Hattie, who had been in Reykjavík a few weeks prior. The restaurant, Matur og Drykkur (literally, “food and drink”) specializes in traditional Icelandic dishes with a modern twist. I’d never experienced Icelandic food before, so I was anxious to try it.
Dinner was incredible. To start, I ordered a dish of dried fish, whey butter, and pickled dulse, a type of red alga that grows on the northern costs of the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. For my main course, I tried the whole cod head cooked in chicken stock, also with dulse, which was served alongside potato salad and lovage. And to finish (because I am notoriously bad at turning down the opportunity to try some new food, especially when that new food is a speciality of a particular culture), I ordered traditional Icelandic twisted doughnuts and caramelized whey for dessert.
I still had five hours until my flight (in hindsight, while I’m very happy to have seen Reykjavík, eighteen hours there might have been a little excessive), so I took one last walk by the harbor before boarding a bus back to the airport.
l'Acquolina in Bocca 