And probably don’t need to
Long story short: We were in the RV for a long time today.
A long time.
Not to dis Iceland, but it is a really, really big island.
And as cool, absorbing and fascinating as Iceland’s Ring Road is, there are bound to be stretches that are, um, less so.
Even our guide book admitted that the stretch from Akureyri to Borgarnes “receives fewer visitors than the southern and eastern segments. The landscapes are subtler, the attractions less concentrated…”
In other words, it’s sort of like being on one of those trains through the scenic Swiss Alps.
With nothing to read.
And at times like that one has a tendency to, um, let one’s mind run rampant.
For instance, I was thinking about the day before, when we visited the Hverir geothermal area. Which basically consists of a lot of steam, boiling water and really hot mud bubbling up out of the ground.
And as soon as we exited the RV we were engulfed by zillions upon zillions of midges. Which proceeded to plague us every step of the way through all the steam, boiling water and hot mud.
But not to worry, our guide book assured. “They do not bite but can be annoying.”
And I thought, what better to be the official insect of Iceland? They do not bite but can be annoying.
Ah, but then I recalled a piece I read in the New York Times just weeks ago. About how Iceland – one of the few countries in the world that never had mosquitos before – recently confirmed that the damned things are now here.
And breeding.
Thanks to climate change. Not to mention jet planes that can transport people and mosquitos alike to the very ends of the earth.
Hate to tell you this, Iceland. But as a long time Floridian I give you maybe six years before your whole island becomes uninhabitable.
But wait! OMG!
Then it occurred to me that if mosquitos are already here, can the gators be far behind?
Alas, Florida is home, not just to mosquitos and gators, but to Florida Man.
And it’s probably only a matter of time before some damned fool Florida Man possessed or a so-called sense of humor decides to smuggles reptile eggs into Iceland and deposit them in Hverir.
Where they will probably settle in, happy as pigs in hot mud.
So I just want to apologize in advance, Iceland.
Because, unfortunately, climate change and Florida Man are the two most irresistible forces in nature.
Oh yeah. And then today, at long last, we came to Kirkjufell.
Of which our guide book says that, because of it’s “distinctive shape,” (it looks like a giant hat) “may be Iceland’s most recognizable peak.”
And sure enough, when we arrived there must have been 500 or 600 tourists all taking photos of Iceland’s “most recognizable peak.”
I, of course, had to chuckle.
Because not one of them realized that it required 250 Icelandic landscape architects 30 years to shape Iceland’s “most recognizable peak” to Chamber of Commerce specs for their photo-taking pleasure.
How do I know this?
Because I’m from Florida, pal. Which from its very inception has shaped reality to Chamber of Commerce specs for the enjoyment of tourists.
Oh, and the other thing that happened to us today is that – after days of smooth driving on Iceland’s nicely paved Ring Road – we went off the ring and ran into some really rough conditions on the Snaefellsnes Peninsula (and no, I’m not making that up. That’s really how they spell it.)
How bad was the road? Nearly as bad as the roads in western Alachua County, at least if the folks behind Alachua County Road Watch are to be believed.
Our RV shook and rattled. And rocked and rolled. Things tumbled to the floor. Cabinets popped open. Life, the universe and everything roiled.
But you know me, friends and neighbors. I always like to put a positive spin on things.
And so to keep our driver’s spirits up, I said:
“The good news, Buddy, is that we are driving in kilometers and not miles. Miles are way longer.”
I could tell Buddy appreciated that.
What else?
Oh yeah, we saw yet another waterfall.
And yet another bright yellow warning sign alerting us to the fact that if we do something really stupid and end up dead, we have only our own damned selves to blame.
So we didn’t. Despite the fact that we are three Florida Men without adult supervision.
Listen, I’m having the best time on our Epic Iceland Ring Road Adventure. It’s like being a Game Of Thrones cast member.
And I know that Iceland appreciates my being here.
I know this because in the village of Stykkisholmsbaer (again, I am not making that up) I discovered that grateful citizens had commissioned a sculpture in my likeness.
Is this a great country or what?
Bonus photo. Our sunset tonight.
FreeGNV 