A Photo Blog: Akureyri So Far

Your facebook wish is my command: a blog of photos, with some hopefully well-versed captions to guide the way.... 

I keep walking through the streets of
Iceland thinking 'this place can only
mean this much to me.'  Then I think 'but
it must be just as special to everyone else'
who has ever been here.  It has to be.'             

All over Akureyri, there are hearts.  Tiny red hearts literally painted onto buildings, widows, walls.  They are perfectly delightful- just another wonderful example of the public art you find throughout Iceland.  But hearts?  I asked young Kristjan at the desk of my hostel what the deal was... he explained that people in Akureyri wanted to see joy as well as feel it.  Then he directed me to the stoplights- where- if you look closely enough- there are hearts on red.

         This is what I imagine when
         Mom finishes yoga and says
         'Namaste Bitches' (or, as she
         would pronounce it...
         'No-ma-stay Bitches')

A note on that public art I mentioned before?  This gal is a coat rack- in the public library... which just happens to be the second largest in the nation. 

Yes, I am in fact pulling out the big guns.  Akureryi sits on the western side of a northern fjord called Eyjafjordur.  This is the view looking back toward the country from a bridge over the above mentioned fjord.  Yeah.

Just because it struck me as a hilarious reminder of the States vs. the Rest of the World... look closely at the label for the donuts in the bakery down the street... yes it does indeed read U.S.A.  As in 'that's right, these donuts are styled after those lusciously ludicrous donuts you find those cholesterol and heart disease ridden Americans eating all the time.  Tasty.

The first full day here, I took a marginally illicit tour of the botanical gardens and several things hit me head-on, like a battering ram attached to a bull.  And I was wearing red. 

First of all, here I am in the fall in the north of a northern island- and there is still all of the velvety rich color surrounding me.   Whether it is the pinks, blues, and purples of pretty little ground flowers or the blazing reds, golds and browns of the leaves turning- there is just so much vibrancy here.  It's almost painful to look at sometimes.  And even harder to capture on film.  

Secondly, as I wandered through the gardens, then through the town itself; over the days through the museums and public spaces, private spaces; navigating people and places as best as I could... Secondly I realized that the word I will use for Iceland is impossible.

This place is, quite literally, impossible.  An impossible (and impossibly perfect) duality of man and earth; the natural and the supernatural; the whimsically fantastical and the stoically rational.  Iceland, and the people in it, have claimed a part of my heart that I am happy to give them.  I have been struggling to describe all of this.. even at only halfway through my trip, I have unabashedly, embarrassingly, completely fallen head over heels with this country (the actual land), it's people, it's brilliant culture.  

It is Impossible.