Middle-earth in Iceland

 

Farewell we call to hearth and hall!
Though wind may blow and rain may fall,
We must away ere break of day
Far over wood and mountain tall.

To Rivendell, where Elves yet dwell
In glades beneath the misty fell,
Through moor and waste we ride in haste,
And wither then we cannot tell.

With foes ahead, behind us dread,
Beneath the sky shall be our bed,
Until at last our toil be passed,
Our journey done, our errand sped.

We must away! We must away!
We ride before the break of day!

- From The Fellowship of the Ring, J.R.R. Tolkien

There are certain places that capture a sense of something else. Something told before. Some bigger story. Occasionally I find myself caught in a scene from such a big story. Usually this happens when I travel and my eyes are open to the different tune of landscape and place. My imagination is an open book, and stories fall into the pages.

J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis were extremely fond of the old Sagas from Iceland, Norway, and Finland. They both were part of a society that would meet in their early days of Oxford called the Kolbitars. Or "coal biters", which comes from the Icelandic notion of telling stories/sagas around the fire and sitting so close (because it's so cold) to the fire they could literally nibble on the coals. In this group during their early years of teaching at Oxford, Tolkien and Lewis became close friends, in their shared loved of Icelandic and Norse Sagas. If you read any of Tolkien's writings from Middle-earth you will find bits of such Sagas steeped in, along with images of the landscapes and ancient feeling of the places and the legends. Everything feels old, and part of something bigger than the moment being described.

It's no wonder that when I am in Iceland, I see glimpses of Middle-earth almost everywhere. I hear the words of the books in my head in certain places - the Fellowship travelling on the Great River seeing the grand old statues of the kings of Númenor; the visits into Lothlorien - a wooded realm of the Elves with trees and ancient woods adorned with round staircases and glowing lamps; the grand stone buildings and kingly places of Rivendell, Gondor, and Númenor clothed in white. All the atmospheric locations along the way. Paths into the mountains, leading around kingdoms, venturing into the mist and fog. 

As Frodo was borne towards them the great pillars rose like towers to meet him. Giants they seemed to him, vast grey figures silent but threatening. Then he saw that they were indeed shaped and fashioned: the craft and power of old had wrought upon them, and still they preserved through the suns and rains of forgotten years the mighty likenesses in which they had been hewn. Upon great pedestals founded in the deep waters stood two great kings of stone: still with blurred eyes and crannied brows they frowned upon the North. The left hand of each was raised palm outwards in gesture of warning; in each right hand there was an axe; upon each head there was a crumbling helm and crown. Great power and majesty they still wore, the silent wardens of a long-vanished kingdom.

- From The Fellowship of the Ring, J.R.R. Tolkien

In these places I pause and look around me, feeling as if I have fallen into the story and suddenly something is going to happen as we enter the next chapter. I memorize the space with my eyes, ears, and feeling. I hear the story in my head. I take a deep breath realizing and appreciating that I am in such a place. 

I could go on and on with examples of this in Iceland (and other places I travel to and have written about). Perhaps if you are more curious to read Tolkien you might catch some more glimpses of this sense of the long-vanished kingdom. My journey to Iceland has refreshed my desire to re-read The Lord of the Rings. It might have to happen soon.

Adventures to Snæfellsnes Peninsula, Iceland

 

Snæfellsnes Peninsula, Iceland

The drive to the northwest of Iceland was an adventure so much like travelling to another planet. We took a small group tour which picked us up at 9 am. From there, we were no longer in the familiar world.

Travel by way of fjords northwest. A long tunnel dips below the water of a fjord to emerge on the other side - the area of the Snæfellsnes peninsula felt like prehistoric Iceland: whale bones on the beach, chunky grey-blue rocks, and tiptoe grass layering above the sands, all set against the backdrop of the darkest mountains I have seen. Black and imposing, even in the midst of layers of cloud and fog. My imagination sparks alive in this atmosphere. Pausing for the most delicious home cooked lunch at a horse farm, with breathtaking views out the window of said dark mountains. It was here the rain started but there were more dramatic locations to experience. For in Iceland the saying goes that there is no bad weather, just wrong clothing.

The moody, misty atmosphere accompanied the rain and with a bend in the road the sea and dramatic coast came into view. One can not neglect to stand in awe of such scenery, even amidst raindrops.

The famous black church standing firm on the unprotected hillside, exposed to the winds coming off the crashing sea. Huge, mossy boulders broke away from the coast now seem to be frozen in a poetic stance. Protector of the region, statue of Bárður Snæfellsás watches over the paths along the cliff side, ready to help a lost or troubled hiker. I just read/listened to his saga before leaving for Iceland, so it was particularly enjoyable to see the place connected with the saga literature. And the dramatic cliffs rise high above the tumultuous sea. One can just stand there windswept and wet, not wanting to leave that spot too soon.

The atmosphere was mystical and otherworldly and as my nose was glued to the window I could easily see the stories of old running across the lava fields, dancing along these crevices. I could feel the words forming into story - if I had my book out to write I could have started my next tale, but I couldn't take my eyes off the landscape. Still rainy, we drove along the thin roads to the black sand beach Djúpalónssandur, which is like a scene from a mystical epic. Strange rock formations and lush green moss growing on them leads down the path to the black sands. Scattered remnants of a shipwreck from 1948 dotted the wide beach down to the rough waves. It was very mysterious standing there amidst waves and wind, sweeping the past into present.

Icelandic Fog

Foul and dull you dismiss

the fog of our fatherland -

don’t you realize it is

the creator changing his mind?

Like you, he wants the weather

to bear a fitting name,

yet he demurs at either

the sunshine or the rain.

(Stephan Stephansson)

Coffee in Reykjavik

 

Coffee in Reykjavik

The fire and ice sit atop water
smooth like glass on days of grey.
Ragged and wild every other day.
Travelling over mountain and volcano
winds flow across the land and sea
to breeze up the Kárastígur to me.

I order cappuccino and say takk.
A staple order for a coffee stop.
I gently clang my cup back into saucer,
and write more pages to an empty cup.

It's calm for a moment, the steamer heats
the milk for cappuccino to guests
who glide in with loud voices
American sound rises above the rest.

I take the quiet route and slide back
in my notebook, jotting words in mind.
Observing and enjoying the coffee vibe
and hurried figures passing to find.

(At Reykjavik Roasters on Kárastígur)

Nordic Summer in Reykjavik

 

Reykjavik, Iceland
End of August 2022

The sky is still light at 10 pm (last photo). Sunsets are something so dramatic and beautiful, changing every minute, we watched the sky as an evening show from our room each night.

It's still Summer in Iceland, in fact, they only have two seasons - Winter and Summer. Summer, with temperatures from 45-58 degrees Fahrenheit, is like the Winter I know in my Florida life. This air is refreshing. The windswept landscapes seems otherworldly, but I will get to that soon. For now, we are in Reykjavik, the capital city, population just over 200,000.

 We arrive in Iceland at 6 am, after an overnight flight through NYC - JFK airport. A long day of travel and overnight (with no sleep) is always a challenge, but when time is limited, you seize every moment you can and hit the ground running. Or, at least, keep going all day and then crash early that first night.

Mum and I were eager to get out into the city to re-familiarize ourselves with Reykjavik. Our last visit was March 2018 and I think we have been dreaming about it since. We ended up walking around all morning, afternoon, and then crashed at 7:30 pm into our beds. The sun was still up. 

First, coffee. Actually, first, breakfast at our hotel. Then, off to the favourite coffee shop (with several locations around the city, Reykjavik Roasters. Good quality coffee is something I keep coming back to.

We stopped into the lovely Hallgrimskirkja Church where the organist was putting on some practice/composing that drew quite a crowd. We sat to listen for a bit. We took the elevator to the top for the amazing 360 degree views of the city. One of my favourite things in a city is to get up above it to gaze out and get the scope of the layout. I love studying maps and this is kind of like a live version of a map looking down on it all.

Lunchtime called us over to a new location of Reykjavik Roasters (part of an art gallery) where we got a quinoa bowl before touring the museum around the corner of Iceland's first sculptor, The Einar Jónsson Museum. This was a very interesting museum me to me, and it only made me want to research the pieces more, as they were all symbolic and full of imagery. A lot of the pieces reminded me very much of William Blake's artwork.

We walked down to the waterfront for the views of the city and mountains across the water. We stopped in a bookshop to browse. Yes, it was a busy day and we didn't stop. After some dinner at an Italian spot on the way back to the hotel, we crashed, because the next day would be a fun adventure around the city. I was filled with thanks to be there.