10/25-10/31/2022 A trip to Iceland. This is in many ways, literal and otherwise, the opposite to my Australia adventure two weeks ago. And, having randomly remembered that I had visited Moldova in my childhood, it is actually the 29th country for me. EDIT: a further realization that Vatican and Monaco are countries too, albeit small ones, puts the count at 31 so far.

I had originally intended to visit Iceland as part of my Norway trip in July, but ended up just sticking with Norway for that one. The place still remained high on the list, and with all the other travel and activity, winter was coming fast. Not wanting to put it off yet another year, at the end of summer I ended up booking the air ticket (it's a direct 7-hour flight from Portland). And a 4x4 camper.

Weather is likely to be iffy, hence the camper. The intent was to try tent camping when possible, but if it got too miserable/impractical I would resort to the camper which has a heater that can run overnight.

That was the original plan. But change is the only constant. One of the changes at the shop was that Samantha, our summer intern mechanical engineer, joined us full time starting September 1. As a company we do a lot of private trackdays (we all ride motorcycles on track). After several 2-hour each way drives to ORP and couple overnight tent camping stays in the track parking lot, I realized that Sam and I travel well together. So I invited her to come along to Iceland. She accepted.

This of course entails many challenges. All my past trips have been either solo or with a significant other, where close quarters of travel are not an issue. In this case, being companions in the travel sense only, a few details would have to be worked out. Made potentially more complicated by the fact that I am Sam's boss and mentor, and that she is literally one third my age with a correspondingly different view of the world. But if we made it work, could be a lot of positives and a learning experience for both. I think of it as a team building exercise. Worth a try.

So we got a second plane ticket and started planning. Or rather, she did the planning because that's how she likes to travel whereas I usually plan only vaguely or not at all. So my new vague plan became to follow whatever hers is. The general proposal of a counter-clockwise loop on the ring road is actually same as what I had in mind, so we're on the same page. In a couple weeks Sam had a Google doc where everything was listed and scheduled out to the hour. We'll try it.

My intent is still to try tent camping next to the car, with Sam using the car. But the forecast is solid rain, near freezing temps and wind. Don't know how long I'd last with that. Plan B is to try and share the camper, although it's likely to be too close for comfort in the situation. So plan C is hotels/guesthouses. And, if all goes wrong, plan D is to get a second car, go separate ways, and meet on the plane back.

The flight is nearly empty so we each get a full row to stretch out, but neither of us gets any sleep. We land at 6 am and it's still dark. And cold. It's been raining recently but isn't at the moment.

The camper rental place, Go Campers, doesn't open till 8 but it's a 45 minute wait for the bus, a half hour bus ride, and then 10 minute walk on cold, windy, dark, industrial-looking streets. We get there about 7:45 but there are already people there and they open up early for us. We get the car and instructions, and get on the way.

An odd thing about the car is that it has a warning label in English and Russian. Not something I'd expect in Iceland but there it is. Also the customs agent at the airport spoke to me in Russian, but that was because my passport says I was born there. He most likely wanted to see how I'd react, and whether a more through interview would be needed. It was fine and no special meaning to it, just a little oddity about the start to the trip.

Our first stop is the obligatory Blue Lagoon visit, which Sam booked or 9 am. Still not too many people there, and the sun comes up about halfway through our visit, creating spectacular views.

The lagoon is fed by geothermally-heated seawater pumped to the surface from 2 kilometers below. There is a spot where it falls as a waterfall and it's fun to stand in.

With that part completed, we set out on the loop. Not only is it not raining, but the clouds are dissipating and the sun is shining brightly. It is just above freezing and winds are mild, about 10 mph. I'll take it! A bit of experimentation with layers will be necessary until I'm comfotable walking around.

One complication is that I am not feeling well - the oceanside camping in LA yesterday took its toll and I think I've caught a cold. I just can't get warm, my throat is starting to get sore, and there is an occasional single or double cough, though nothing major. So the weather is getting great and I'm getting miserabe, but it could be the other way around and I'll take this combination, thank you!

At one of the stops we take a dirt side road and actually get to use the 4WD Low mode of the camper, just to try it. The spot has a small crater with a lake at the bottom of it - the Kerid Crater Lake. Also accessible from a roadside parking lot, but the dirt road is more interesting.

There are horses and sheep all along the way, far outnumbering humans except in the capital itself. Sam is genuinely excited by both, and birds too. She grew up around animals (even had a pet goose apparently) and just enjoys seeing them and being around them. It's fun to witness and another reminder to myself to connect with the world occasionally rather than just observe as I normally do.

With a few more scenic stops along the way, we arrive at Strokkur where there are several active geysers. Very cool. The most active one erupts every eight minutes or so, and it's the only one we see in action. Several times. I capture it on camera.

There are several 'Super Jeeps' in the parking lot, basically raised up offroad vans and buses which are used for various tours in the area. For us that's later in the trip.

A fair bit more driving through sweeping landscapes, then another stop, at a rather spectacular waterfall complete with a rainbow - Gullfoss. Tonight's campsite is a couple hours further down the road.

Arriving at the campsite, it is completely deserted. However the bathrooms are open, heated, and very clean. There is a sign that says 'pick a site, pay later'. So we do. It doesn't look like it will rain and there is no wind at the moment, though it will likely drop below freezing. Also I'm now feeling full on sick, with throat sore enough that it hurts to talk, and alternating chills/sweats.

But I decide to try tent camping anyway, as I have no idea how long this unexpected good weather will hold. It's only 5:30 pm but both of us have been up for over 30 hours now, having started the day in a different part of the world and having driven several hours since arriving here at 6 am. I crawl into the tent and pass out.

Next thing I know is that I'm awakened by a voice asking if anyone is home. It is dark, and there is a flashlight pointed at the tent. Turns out it's the campsite manager, here to collect the fee - conveniently with a card reader. Works out to about $20. He is surprised and somewhat amused that anyone would be silly enough to tent camp in this weather. I tell him it's an experiment - he chuckles and wishes me a pleasant stay. I check the phone to see what time it is - it's 7:30 pm.

It is now cold. The sleeping bags I got for the trip are supposedly good to 10F. It is now about 28F, I have all my layers on including outer rain shell and wool beanie, and I'm still cold. Yes, being sick doesn't help. The worst part is the inflatable sleeping pad. You'd think it would be insulating, but it is the opposite - it's sucking heat and the very life essence out of me, despite all the layers and the bag. I try to deal with it for several hours, feeling progressively worse as my core temp drops. Then around midnight I try one more thing, attempting to get one mattress out of the camper into the tent. It doesn't fit.

I do notice something that looks like faint northern lights in the sky as I'm doing all this, but it's a bit foggy and looks like backlit clouds basically.

I finally admit defeat and retreat to the camper. It is way too crowded for two co-workers traveling together. We make do for the rest of the night but will have to move on to plan C (hotels) going forward. Camping would have been fine with the right gear, which I clearly do not have, and a better state of health. Valuable lessons learned in the meantime.

The morning is crisp and clear, with frost on the ground making everything appear extra clean. There is not much population here, the few towns comprising only a handful of buildings, stores and sometimes a gas station. The fuel tank is now at 1/4 so I fill up - diesel is around $10/gallon, making it a $155 fuel stop. There will be two more like that.

Next stop is Seljalandsfoss - a waterfall that you can walk behind. And get wet in the process, so I add an extra base layer and an extra water/wind outer layer, both top and bottom. This is the right combo - I'm finally warm. Or at least comfortably not cold. A waterproof poncho on the outside keeps the water out successfully.

Besides the main falls there are several smaller ones, feeding streams that have some fish.

Then on to Skogafoss, where a full circular rainbow greets us.

Any time you see a rainbow, in the center is your shadow. This is not always apparent but is very clear here.

The sheep are ever-present.

Having agreed on plan C, Sam books the hotels for the rest of the trip. The first is a guest house actually, an airbnb type setup of a private house with several suites for rent. It is only ten minutes from tomorrow's main activities - glacier ice cave hike and boat tour of the ice lagoon. It will take us the rest of the day to get there, with stops.

I am feeling quite sick at this point and am looking forward to a warm room, shower and bed where I can curl up and try to recover. But that's for later. I don't let it detract from the experience of the spectacular scenery all around.

Couple stops near Black Beach - first is on a high bluff above it, second is at the beach itself. Sam says we should see whales from the bluff. Even though it's not whale season. As we walk around and take in the views, off in the distance - a spout. Then another. And then long black whale back as it initiates a dive. So yeah, we did see whales. Sam wants to see a puffin, and she claims that if we see whales we will see puffins. I mention that the universe probably didn't sign up for that bargain, but we'll see.

Black Beach itself is cool with impressive rock formations. Quite a few people though, and getting mostly-people-free shots takes some effort on my part. We manage to leave just as a couple more busloads arrive.

Further north, several kilometers of moss-covered lava. Sam thinks trolls should live in a place like this. It is also cloudy and raining, but it somehow enhances the place. My guess is that it's a microclimate and why the green moss here. We stop to take it in and then move on.

Soon the clouds part, the sun is out again, and the moss is mostly gone, although can be seen occasionally on some mountain sides.

We mostly exist on Zone bars, true to my travel style, but do stop at a cool hotel for a snack. Only the bar is open but they serve food. I get some seafood soup and a shot of vodka to try and ease my painfully sore throat. It helps. Was really tempted to gargle the vodka, which is what I would do at home, but refrained because manners. Probably should have, accounting for all the pros and cons.

Nearing today's destination, first glimpse of the Ice Lagoon. It is spectacular. If the weather holds, tomorrow will be awesome. And even if it rains, as it's supposed to.

The guest house is very cool with a view of the ocean on one side and waterfall on the other.

I shower, double up on Merino wool base layers, and crawl under the thick comforter. Goal is to sweat the sickness out. I definitely sweat a lot, requiring another shower in the morning, and I do feel a bit better. Camping in this state of health would not have been good. Another essentialist experience - sometimes comfortable and secure shelter is essential.

At 9:30 am is the first activity - ice cave tour. It is about a half hour ride from the meeting point to the cave, in a 'Super Jeep' which is a modified Ford van.

From the parking area, it's 1.1 kilometer hike to the glacier. The guide tells us this distance has doubled in the last fourteen years. There are rocks along the way with dates written on them when the glacier was at that point. It retreated almost 100 meters since June this year.

We reach the entrance and wait for a previous group to leave before we can enter. There are about 4-5 groups of a dozen or so people each inside at one time. The guides coordinate so it isn't too crowded and people-free shots are possible in many spots, with some effort.

The cave is formed by the water running down as the glacier melts. It is only accessible in winter season, there being too much water in summer. We are some of the first groups this season, the tours only started a couple weeks ago.

Then a hike back and a ride to the meeting point.

Next activity, a Zodiac boat tour of the lagoon, is not for a couple more hours so we go to check out Diamond beach nearby - it is where the icebergs that break off from the glacier exit to the ocean. A lot of them end up on the black sand, giving the beach its name.

Our expectations of the beach were ambivalent, but seeing it in person we agreed that it might be the favorite experience so far, even topping the ice cave. The low sun lights up the ice and it all looks otherworldly. Some ice chunks are small but many are 8-10 feet across.

At 3 pm it's time for the boat tour. The sun is still shining but clouds are starting to form and the spectacular light is likely to go away. At least we got it on the beach where it made a huge difference, and at least it's not raining. There is a short bus ride to the launch point.

Shortly after we set off, the sun ducks behind clouds. But we are wearing warm suits on top of the normal layers, and it's actually comfortable.

There is a seal on one of the icebergs and we check it out for a bit. Then continue on to the glacier wall, about 8 kilometers away. That distance is incrasing half a kilometer per year.

We spend some time near the wall, and the guide explains that when it's this cold we're unlikely to see any ice break away. There is a snowball-sized bit that falls making everyone go 'oh'. Then the engine is restarted and we are headed back to look at the seal some more.

Just as we do that, a call comes in on the radio from the other boat. We look in the distance - there is a huge piece of the wall breaking off! It's about five stories high and roughly the size of a city block. It's less than a kilometer away and we are now heading full speed towards it. I try to get as many pictures and videos as I can while still taking time to experience the experience. Freezing hands in gloves are clumsy at operating the phone and I don't get the best parts on video, but I do get a couple.

It's like watching Godzilla. The original block is huge and unstable, creating new stresses and breaking apart into chunks which then move around on their own. The pictures don't do it justice, and the process continues for many minutes.

In the next series of pictures you see a huge block of ice come up from below water, it is still submerged in the picture above. Watching that was truly awe inspirinig. And scary, because it looked like a huge tidal wave was being formed, with the boat being only a couple hundred meters from the event. Fortunately, the rising wall was the ice itself - since it was already in the water, no large displacement occurred. There were still waves from the mechanial motion but the boat easily dealt with those.

For a couple minutes, it looked like everything had settled down so the boat went in for a closer look. To get some sense of the scale, realize that the waterfall cascading down the middle of the iceberg in the pic below is about 100 feet (30 meters) tall, give or take.

Then, more motion - behind the visible iceberg, another rises, like a massive sea monster. The bright blue chunk of ice is like a sale on its back, at some point being twice as high as the ice in front of it, then coming back down.

Then, out from behind the black ice, emerges another block and gives us the most impressive show yet. Unfortunately I didn't capture that on video, but did the movements before and after. The two clips are here and here. Be sure to watch them both, it was a lifetime-memorable experience.

Then it was all settled finally. Wow. We are told that breaks of this magnitude happen only once or twice a season, and are rarely witnessed this close up. Grateful to have been in the right place at the right time.

Then a four-hour drive to the next stop, much of it in darkness. At first there are faint grey shapes in the sky, looking like backlit clowds. I think they are the Northern Lights but not sure. We stop, and taking a night-mode picture confirms it. To the naked eye the lights look grey like clouds above a city.

A couple hours go by and now there is no mistaking it - the whole sky is lit up! We stop several times to take it all in. No night mode needed anymore. This is full on light show, mostly green but with some red, the ribbons slowly twisting across the entire visible sky. I thank the universe for the treasure of experience. It was supposed to be raining the entire time, too.

Next hotel/guest house has an outdoor hot tub and we hang out in it for a while, and there are faint lights in somewhat hazy sky still. The hostess says the lights might get better but we reply we already got those on the way here.

I'm feeling better enough to try some wine and buy a bottle from the hotel. It's at restaurant prices - which would be the case anywhere, really. It ends up being about $75, considerably more than I paid for my new hiking boots in Reykavik, but could be had for about $18 in a regular store. It is what it is, I enjoy it which is what matters.

Today is a long drive across the North, stopping at whatever we find of interest along the way. The scenery changes rapidly and is quite spectacular.

It seems all waterfalls here have rainbows, and this one is no exception. Cool.

The rainbow is faint but there - zoomed in below.

Then we are in winter. The camper is fully capable of traversing roads like the one below, and there are designated campsites we could stay at. But, other plans and the fact that we only have 1/8 tank of fuel mean that it would have to be another trip.

Yes, we are driving around with bananas on the dash, in Iceland. What's more, they actually get quite hot in the sun. It is the world we live in.

The place is magical enough that Sam attempts some witchcraft. She succeeds - there are no photoshop tricks in the picture below, it is as taken.

Then onward.

Next stop is a geothermal spot by the side of the road. Neat. The mud is gooey and sticks to the boots making them heavy. Takes a while to clean off. There is an automated pay system for the parking lot which reads license plates. The site is on private land and the fees are used for maintenance, etc. Fair enough. Just odd to see such automation in the middle of nowhere and it's a contrast to the landscape itself.

Next destination - the geothermal cave that was featured in Game of Thrones (didn't know this when I first saw it, that was pointed out to me afterwards when I posted the pix). A few stops along the way as well.

It being fairly late in the day and off season, the cave is not crowded but there are a couple people always there. We do get to sit and enjoy it in silence for a bit by ourselves. It's marginally too hot to swim in (and swimming is prohibited according to the sign outside), but Sam gets to soak her toes. I'm content dipping a hand in the water to test it. Feels like a hot spring, predictably.

Continuing the drive, the scenery is consistently spectacular. We stop at another waterfall.

This place has magic too, so more witchcraft and again no photoshop tricks.

The sun is setting behind the waterfall, but there is a faint rainbow-like effect anyway. You have to look close to see it.

Icelandic architecture is in tune with the landscape. Clean, simple shapes. Austere. Not as design-coordinated as Norway is, but definitely a Nordic feel to it. I like it.

We pass through a 7 kilometer long tunnel. You have to pay for it online within 24 hours before or after. It is the longest of three tunnels we will encounter on this trip,

On the other side is Akureyri, which appears to be the second biggest town in the country. It's somehow odd to see civilization here.

Tonight's accommodation is a standalone cabin, one of six sharing an outdoor hot spring/hot tub. The northern lights are spectacular, and I take a short video.

Fifth and final full day here - mostly just a long drive to Reykjavik, along a constantly changing landscape. It's cloudy and soon starts to rain. This is what the entire trip was supposed to be like, but though some incredible stroke of luck we got to experience amazing weather and nature. Now, rain feels like a natural conclusion.

We pass through a zone of mossy rocks, just like the one early in the trip. It's at about the same latitude, which seems to support my microclimate theory.

Another fill-up before crossing a 6 kilometer tunnel into Reykjavik.

Tonight's accommodation is the fanciest yet - Sam booked us individual 20th floor suites near city center, each with a view and a soaking tub. So we went from tent to guest house to hotel to cabin to penthouse suite. Full range. Each has its advantages and drawbacks, all are experiences.

It's early still so we go walking about town. In the rain.

Reykjavik is a fairly small city, only about 130K residents in the core and 230K in the greater area, comprising the majority of the country's population. There isn't much historic development and the city center is mostly 2-3 story wooden houses. Around the core is modern construction. We are in the tallest modern building, on the 20 th floor which is the top.

Final day in Iceland. We fly out at 5 pm (and land at 6 pm in Portland). This means returning the camper/rentacar at around 2 pm. We'll just walk about until then.

A lazy start to the day with an included breakfast served to the room. Checkout is 11 am.

We drive to the church and park there. At night it's lit up in pink (see previous day pix) which makes it look like a tower of Mordor. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but if I were them I'd light it in white.

In daylight it's a compelling Icelandic/Nordic take on a Roman cathedral. Pretty cool actually, though engineering wise not a good use of space. But that's true of any church.

We spend a couple hours just meandering about town, and grabbing the third non-Zone-bar meal of the trip, fish and chips at a seafood restaurant. It's good.

The cat is cool. Well, duh, says the cat.

Getting back to the church, Sam attempts her interpretation of the statue in front. Yep, about right.

Car return is uneventful, as is the ride to the airport. The partial rainbow sculpture is cool and is clearly meant to work with the clouds above it. It does.

Seems no blog post is complete without an obligatory over-wing picture, so in closing, here it is. Has Icelandic feel to it which is fitting.

Where next?