I ate an iceberg

Well not the whole iceberg, but a nibble as we took a duck boat and sailed around over 50 or more icey giant some which were the lightest blue. A rubber raft with a motor zoomed and zig zagged ahead of us to make sure that we didn’t hit ice under the water.

Each day on the Icelandic trip was more exciting than the one before.

Standing almost on the spot (the actual spot has been shifted by earthquakes) where the Althing, the first Icelandic government, was formed in 930 A.D. I could just imagine the men, the tents, the vendors rushing around. This was only topped by the last day where I was able to look at the manuscripts of the Sagas some going back to the 1100s. Their first laws were written during that period, and those too were illustrated and bound. To look at letters penned by someone, who had lived 1000 years ago, connected us through centuries. I wondered how he felt at the end of the day, did he have a wife? Children? Did his hand get tired. The Cultural House had a display of powders for coloured inks along with explanations of how they were mixed to get the illuminated mauscripts. How did the writers decide which colours to use? Did one’s pen break and did he throw his work across the room in frustration?

The development of the scripts over the centuries was explained with clear examples, something I either never learned or forgo. The entire museum made my medieval-loving little heart beat faster.

Than there were the volcanoes, the glaciers, cascades,geisers and black sandy beaches with the landscape changing every few miles. We saw mud pots, bubbling and boiling against a moonscape like background. For wild life we saw whales cavorting in the fjords, reindeer and puffins so close we could almost touch them. I suspect they would sigh and think, okay, here’s more tourists. Should we fly or hop around for them? Do they want us to eat a fish?

We saw maceraux (? Spelling) Birds who build three chambered nests, one for the toilet, one for sleeping and a third that they decorate with pretty stones.

Many of Iceland’s national roads are unpaved. We bounced along guided by the cairns made up of volcanic stones. At one stop, the cairn had been built to almost a storey high, and we added our own stones, a reminder of having been there.

Two impressive things. They close a national road each year for a month because it would disturb the nesting birds. Also they mention writers, artists and sculptors as national heroes.

Most of our hotels had TV. The programs were Columbo, The Biggest Loser, a film with Karl Malden and Dr. Phil all with Icelandic subtitles.