![]() Looking closer, I notice they’re clad in corrugated metal painted in bright, cheery colors. I walk past a row of eye-pleasing old houses. Looking around at the colorful houses, feeling the frigid breeze blowing off the nearby harbor, hearing the cry of seagulls, and surrounded by fellow travelers with fur-fringed faces, it hits me: Hey! I’m in Iceland! Heading out to join them, I confirm my hopes that my apartment’s location is ideal: Just two blocks from the historic center of Reykjavík, but buffeted by enough big buildings to keep the nightlife hubbub at bay.Īnd then, it happens - that moment I look forward to anytime I visit a new place. Looking out my window, I see people wearing fashionable parkas with their fur-lined hoods pulled up tight. It’s early summer, and Oslo - where I woke up this morning - just endured its hottest May temperatures on record. I dig around in my bag and pull on every layer I can find. After a shower, the bathroom smells like the aftermath of a chili cook-off. But, also like other tourists, I’ll never quite get used to the smell. Like other tourists, burning myself is a rite of passage that I’ll only do once. The faint sulfur odor reminds me that in Reykjavík, hot water is piped in directly from boreholes deep in the volcanic countryside. But when I turn on the hot water, it comes out scalding and stinky. I unpack hurriedly and splash some water on my face. My Reykjavík pad costs about as much as a single room with shared bath in a guesthouse - a bargain in this notoriously expensive land. I let myself in with the key code I was sent, and find the apartment just as I expected: spartan but comfortable, with a large living room and fully equipped kitchen. Soon we’re driving through the mid-rise suburban sprawl of Reykjavík, then along the shore of the little lake called The Pond, and finally we pull up at the address of my Airbnb. And I must admit, as a first-timer looking out the window at a lunar landscape of chunky lava rock blanketed with a gentle yellow-green moss…I’m more than willing to roll with it. But our driver’s enthusiasm is infectious. With each cliché, I imagine our co-author Ian- who relishes debunking questionable “tour-guide history” and tourist-bait gimmicks - rolling his eyes vigorously. If you buy two things, you have to get an Icelandic sweater. The gang’s all here: “While you’re in Iceland, you have to try the fermented shark!” “Icelanders believe in ‘hidden people.’ They even get clairvoyants to negotiate with the elves when building a new road!” “If you buy one thing in Iceland, make it a stuffed puffin. ![]() On the 45-minute drive into Reykjavík, our minibus driver regales his passengers with a steady monologue of Icelandic clichés. (On the bright side, blowing through $300 is a snap in Iceland.) ![]() Flash forward a few weeks, and I’ll be trying to unload these same krónur at every transaction. As a rank novice in Iceland, I don’t yet believe everything I’ve heard about how every transaction here - no matter how small - uses plastic. Touching down on the petrified lava field at Keflavík Airport, I make my way to the baggage claim and find an ATM, pulling out about $300 worth of the colorful local krónur. For the next three weeks, as I follow Ian’s work around Iceland, I’ll be hearing his voice in my head (soon to be followed by an army of Rick Steves guidebook readers). A longtime Reykjavík resident, Ian’s savvy insights embolden me to feel like an old pro before the plane comes to a full and complete stop. On the plane, I enjoy reviewing the excellent work of our co-author, Ian Watson. My guidebook work with Rick Steves’ Europe has taken me to more than 40 countries - but Iceland is a first. Special thanks to our co-author, Ian Watson, who taught Rick and me everything we know about Iceland.īoarding my Icelandair flight in Oslo, I realize I’m about to fly east to west over the North Atlantic - a thousand miles across a frigid sea - to touch down in Iceland…just like those first Viking Age settlers, 11 centuries ago. This post kicks off my Iceland blog series - stay tuned for lots more. And for our brand-new Rick Steves Iceland guidebook, I enjoyed getting acquainted with this pint-sized capital. For most visitors, Reykjavík is their first look at Iceland.
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