About one year ago, we spent our honeymoon in Iceland, traveling around with a tent, a car and two very dear friends. We left directly from the city hall, after some rounds of photos and quick bites of colorful macarons. I remember I kept finding rice grains in my hair, during the flight and even the next day, scattered all around the hotel room.
It was June and everybody was ready for the summer, the sea, the breeze, the lazy afternoons in the sun…except for us. We packed the warmest clothes we could find, as highest temperatures in Iceland at the beginning of summer were about 14°C. And during the night, the undaunted presence of a cool air made it really hard to believe it was summer time.
But I completely fell in love with Iceland. It’s truly a land of wonder, with dramatic scenery. No matter where you look, there is a form of pure beauty.
I loved the isolation you sometimes felt when driving through endless lava fields.
I loved the greatness of nature. The otherwordly light that was sometimes scattered on the ground. The whimsical contrasts of brightness and shadows made by the sunlight. The mighty waterfalls, the glaciers, the streams and rainbows, the black beaches and milky skies.
I loved the adventure. From hiking, caving, whale watching, glacier tours, getting wet under the waterfalls, crossing rivers with no other bridge than a timber, I enjoyed everything like a kid who discovered something for the first time.
I loved camping. Iceland is one of the safest country for camping. It’s very organized and when you don’t find a camp nearby, you can basically place your tent anywhere, as long as you don’t harm the vegetation. While we were heading nort-west, to the fjords we stopped at some point because we were tired and we camped on some unbuilt land. In the morning we woke up surrounded by cute, fluffy sheep, curious to see us there.
I loved feeling magical. Because everything is so serene out there. Because of the absence of people. And simply because Iceland is a magic place.