|
At home in
Blackfield, the word Saga conjures up holidays for the over
50s (me) and supposedly cheaper car insurance. On a
prize-winning weekend in Iceland it paints a far more exciting
picture of honour and humour, trolls and tragedy.
I don’t even know which competition it was that resulted in a
letter from Protravel saying I had won three nights for two in
Reykjavik from the E45 Promotion. But it became real last
Thursday when, after a short flight,we took our first glimpse
of this still-young country, which less than a hundred years
ago had mostly rock and turf houses and an almost-forgotten
existence. Even today there are just 300,000 people in the
whole of the country!
Our hotel in the centre of the city was new and minimally
modern. Asking about a room upgrade meant we were given the
nicest one on the top floor overlooking the harbour and the
main street. After a quick check of the duty-frees, we walked
around the 101 District until we found a restaurant we
particularly fancied as it had live music. We didn’t realise
that here the entertainment starts at 11pm. The meal was
delicious (and expensive – one glass of white wine cost £7)
however we had to admit defeat and leave before the band
arrived. So we went back later the next night and enjoyed
another meal with Django Jazz. |
 |
 |
Friday was the
city tour, hearing about the history and culture. The church
was magnificent in its simplicity and really deserved a second
look. Unfortunately, when we went back on our own, both it and
the tower were closed for six hours for a funeral. Six hours!
Saturday’s trip was the ten hour Golden
Circle tour, which showed us the glacial Gullfoss waterfall, a
volcanic crater, the Geysir hot springs and geysers and the
Pingvellir National Park. At times you could have been on the
Moon or Mars, the terrain was so alien and untouched.
The Park is on the mid-Atlantic Ridge
and the fault where the Tectonic plates had shifted was
clearly – and scarily – visible. The weather changed from
sunshine to snowstorms in a matter of minutes, with hailstones
and howling, biting winds thrown in for good measure. Chrissie
thought a picnic would be a good ( read cheap) idea and
although the guide said it was too cold to sit out in it, we
enjoyed our cheese rolls and boiled eggs. Yes, it was very
similar, if not guiltily identical, to what we’d had for
breakfast but it beat paying £19 each for a small chicken
salad in the café. After all, we’re British, so what’s a bit
of wind, if you’ll pardon the expression. |
One area is
particularly supernatural and steeped in mystery. Several
women are renowned for seeing the elves and spirits who live
in the hills and caves. Pickled and I don’t have to travel
that far, but we do tend to keep it to ourselves. Unless, of
course, we display the evidence on Dot’s page. The Little
People must have been hiding, although we saw plenty of tiny,
painted wooden “houses” next to the rocks where they are
supposed to live.
Making the most of every minute, we combined Sunday’s return
journey to the airport with another tour, this time to the
wild, rough lava fields, bird cliffs and North Atlantic shore.
Now you really could be on another planet. Who said I usually
am?
|
 |
 |
The final stop
was at the Blue Lagoon, a spa set in a hot geothermal field.
The water’s a creamy turquoise because of the silica and
minerals and hotter than the average bath. It’s a strange
feeling relaxing in the warmth from the neck down while your
head is being pounded by large hailstones. The silica sticks
to your hair and makes it feel as coarse as hemp. As could be
expected, my comb was in the suitcase so I spent the rest of
the day looking like a spaced-out Worzel Gummidge.
What an experience! For anyone who
likes nature in the raw and wearing five layers of clothes,
this is certainly a trip worth making. And as there’s a comp
at the moment to win a holiday in Iceland, who knows who’ll be
next?
|
|
|
