TRAVEL: Iceland, 2019

All pictures by Zachary V. Sunderman.
Please do not use without credit.

It's its exquisite natural beauty that has been drawing increasing numbers of people to Iceland. I'm no exception. We didn't make it out to the far east side of the island or to the interior, and consequently we didn't see some of the most otherworldly sights, but sticking to the west and south, we still saw plenty of Earth at its best.

It's amazing that there is so much primal gorgeousness just a quick drive north of Iceland's only major city. The Golden Circle is so easy to reach and so easy to drive, and along the way it's just one incredible sight after the other. When we visited, we visited the burbling Geysir geothermal zone, where the searing heat that drives the planet lies just below the surface; watched numerous eruptions of the Strokkur geyser; hiked the rim and climbed to the bottom of the volcanic Kerið crater, whose catastrophic history is belied by the placid lake at its bottom; got very close to the unfathomable force of the humongous Gullfoss waterfall; walked along the (literally) boiling shoreline of Lake Laugarvatn; and ventured into Þingvellir National Park, where we saw the historic Law Rock at which one of the world's first democracies was founded, and walked the ever-expanding space between two of the tectonic plates that literally constitute the world as we know it.

An attempt to push into the Westfjords was canceled by a hard rain that washed out the unpaved road that led off the grid, but our time in West Iceland wasn't a waste, especially because the rains gave rise to numerous little waterfalls along the side of the highway. The best part for me, though, was the random encounter with Grábrók, a cluster of small but clearly powerful volcanoes - their low summits were capped by large calderas. We hiked up the slopes of the largest one and circumambulated its rim, from which we could look down at a Somma-like formation (a new cone inside a caldera depression) in the center of the next-nearest mountain. And the southern part of the island didn't disappoint either, what with its mysterious basalt beaches and spectacular views of the monstrous glacier-topped volcano Eyjafjallajökull.

One of the most rewarding parts of the trip was a journey out to the island of Heimaey (the only permanently inhabited island of a small chain off Iceland's southern coast). Heimaey hosts the small town of Vestamannaeyjar ("Westman Islands"), half of which is now buried under a recent eruption from the nearby volcano Eldfell; the street grid literally cuts off at the edge of the hardened lava, and signs posted on top show you what's beneath you. Wandering around the town, which sits spectacularly at the bottom of a bowl of hills, is fun enough, and our meal at Slippurinn was memorable, but the real highlight was our journey to Stórhöfði, the peninsula at the southern tip of Heimaey. There, we left our car and walked with some sheep across a meadow that terminated in a sheer drop into the North Atlantic. As far as I can tell, the nearest land in my line of sight was the western edge of the Sahara. There, we watched puffins flying comically in the strong winds and appreciated having the edge of the world all to ourselves.

But just as great as its isolated natural areas was Iceland's major urban zone, the Viking-founded city of Reykjavík. This was an equal draw to me: my love affair with Iceland began during one of my voracious musical exploration phases, in which I discovered Reykjavík's post-punk scene. Especially during the months of the bewildering Midnight Sun, the city literally never slept, and it treated us to so many great finds - like the vinyl-spinning coffee shop Reykjavík Roasters, the highly-vegan-friendly bakery Emilie and the Cool Kids, the burger joint Aktu Taktu, the picturesque coast with its replica of a Viking ship, and 12 Tónar Records, where shopowner Johansen treated us to friendly conversation after he saw me approach his counter holding a white-whale copy of Þeyr's ultra-rare Mjötviður Mær LP.