Iceland - Part 2

It has been a few years - five, according to my visa stamps - since I've been in Reykjavik.  So the geography isn't really second nature to me.  So I was taken completely by surprise when I turned the corner and came across this:

Yes, it's a duck pond.

I remember this duck pond.  It sits right at the back of the big pond and park on the edge of Gamla Hofn (the old town) -- Tjornin. It's pretty, especially early on a Sunday morning.

The Free Church anchors one side of the pond.

Thingvellirhusid, the Icelandic Parliament House, stands in the background.

And Reykjavik City Hall just rises right the hell out of the pond.

I have my bearings once again, and I move forward more confidently through the quiet streets.  Not much is open yet, so I'm free to wander without the crowds of [other] tourists.

And as I head up the main shopping street, suddenly I see it off to my right:

There it is.  Still pretty far away and, yes, it would be uphill, too.

The wooden signs on the right host the local kindergarten students' drawings of the cathedral.  I'll post those separately.  But to prove I did make it all the way to the church, here's Leifur:

Leifur Erikson, with an axe.

Part three continues with some nice views of the shoreline, a stop at the Icelandic version of the 7-11, and a trip to the Phallological Museum of Iceland.  (Yes, I said "Phallological".)

Oh, I forgot to add...this is what I thought when I finally found my way to Hallgrimskirkja:

Iceland - Part 1

Part 1 of my Icelandic saga (see what I did there?) began in the skies above Newark, just as soon as the landing gear went up.  This is the moment when I set my watch to Iceland time and reconciled myself to the fact that I was actually on vacation.  

US Time:  July 5, 21:00.  

Icelandic Time: July 6, 01:00

The flight was somewhat turbulent, but mostly uneventful.  I had an aisle seat, and several forms of entertainment. IcelandAir is quite comfortable, and they have an in-seat entertainment system so you can watch movies and such. I had my iPod, Kindle, and an audiobook on my phone, too.  And the couple who had the seats next to me spent most of the flight making out.  So I had lots of choices.  I ended up re-watching The Secret Life of Walter Mitty, which I had originally seen with Nicole a few months ago. Liked it the first time, still like it, and it's a great way to get fired up for a vacation.  I watched a little bit of Garden State, too, but mostly just listened to music. Didn't sleep.

We touched down at Keflavik airport at 05:40, local time. Went right to immigration and got through with no hassle.  In fact, the immigration agent -- who looked to be 17 years old, maybe this is some kind of high school work study program -- was amazed that I would be going on to the Faroe Islands.  "How did you even know about them?" he remarked in wonder.  Picked up the luggage, exchanged some money, and hopped on the Flybus to take me to Reykjavik. 

My passport betrays the fact that I am a return visitor.

Forty-five minutes later, I am in Reykjavik Domestic Airport.  My flight for Akureyri leaves at 13:00.  It is now 06:40.  The temperature is 39 degrees F -- 40 degrees less than when I stepped out of the car at Newark. 

After collecting my thoughts, which took a while because they were in a number of different places, I decided to follow Walter Mitty's path and be bold.  I found a luggage locker and somehow managed to get it to work with my credit card.  I stowed my big luggage.  I put on a fleece and went outside.

Then I went back inside, took out my jacket, and put that on over the fleece.  Then I went back outside.  It was really cold.  (But not raining, for once.)  I wanted to go see Reykjavik, again.  But I didn't know where to go.  Fortunately, the city has one famous and prominent landmark: Hallgrimskirkja. 

Hallgrimskirkja, from around Reykjavik Domestic Airport

You just have to keep walking toward it, and you'll be downtown eventually.  Should take about 10 minutes.

Hallgrimskirkja, ten minutes later.

Ten more minutes should do it.

Hallgrimskirkja, ten minutes later still.

You know what, there is more to Reykjavik than giant churches.  I decided to deviate off course and see what lies to the West.  Find out, in part 2.

Leaving from Newark

In a few hours, I will board an overnight flight to Keflavik, Iceland.  When I arrive tomorrow morning, I'll hop a bus to Reykjavik, then catch another flight to Akureyri, in North Iceland. By 2pm tomorrow (local time), I will be loosed on the roads of Iceland, and my Nordic adventure will be underway.

By Monday morning, I'll be in Denmark.  Monday evening, we'll touch down at Vagar Airport in the Faroe Islands.

But hey, the airport is part of the vacation, right?

It starts with the obligatory interaction with the TSA. Because it is impossible for TSA agents to be civil, I naturally got yelled at for the horrible infraction of: taking my wallet out of the plastic bin and putting it back in my pocket, instead of taking the entire bin to the chairs in the back of the room; thereby holding up the zero people who were behind me. Perhaps I expect too much from the police academy dropouts our government employs to protect our airports, but is it really too much to ask that public servants be civil to people they serve?

But once past the TSA, I love the airport.

It starts with the post-security "re-humanization zone", as I like to call it.  It is amazing to see a person who comes away from the stripping, screening, and verbal abuse (see rant, above) with downtrodden looks, to slowly rebuild a more positive affect as they put on their shoes, belt and wallet (unless they are rebels like me, and have already pocketed their wallet). The ones who sit in the chairs to tie their shoes are the best.  They have a moment of joy and satisfaction as they tie their shoes -- thinking "This is something I'm good at! I'm accomplishing something! Yes!" -- which slips away immediately as they stand up and realize that they have no idea where they are supposed to go next.  Human drama!

The airport bar is great because it houses several archetypes. The married businessman, released from home life, who tries to chat up every lady. The frazzled parents, kids in tow, who came to the bar hoping for a drink but realized that the prices are high.  The longtime travelling companions who are enjoying their meal and relaxing between legs of a long journey, and falling into an easy routine.  The recent college grad, heading off to travel in Europe, who thinks he may have a chance of getting with the bartender, and will tip accordingly. The tired and weary traveler who looks like he just got off of a flight from Hong Kong, and is getting a drink before his connecting flight to Johannesburg. The solo traveler who is blogging his experiences.  We're all here.

Sitting at the gate gives a different view of humanity.  Clearly, the term "sit and relax" means different things to different people.  Some are completely incapable of it; they sit, and then stand up, look around, check their cell phone, sit down, and repeat. Solo people are usually reading, playing with their cell phone or (if they are my kind of people) sitting still and looking thoughtful.  A few sleep.  Couples are the best to watch. Some of them chat and tell jokes; some just ignore each other very deliberately.  I have observed that most couples will sit down and immediately one will put their arm behind the other.  But if this doesn't happen immediately, it will happen after about 10 minutes.  I'm not sure what, if anything, that means.

I think what I like best, though, is the employees. While there are a few grouches, and the obligatory petty tyrants (see rant, above), what you mostly see is people who actually enjoy what they do. I guess it's not as surprising when gate agents, who presumably got into the business because they like people, seem to enjoy being helpful.  But it's a nice sight when you see a janitor stop his work to help an older passenger carry her bag, or to see the restaurant and store workers reach out to the lost and confused and send them (presumably) in the right direction.

So while I will spend a little time reading, and a little time studying Icelandic road signs, and a little time writing, I'm going to spend most of my time people-watching.  In fact, I'm going to close this post now, and get on with the observations.

But first...let me take a #selfie.