Monday 09 September 2024
My biggest takeaway from my recent, first time-ever Iceland trip is: one week isn’t enough. I was content not driving the entire Ring Road… for the most part. I saw and experienced what my family and I had planned to do. We needed to leave off several other “to die for” natural wonders from our list of things to do because they were simply too far away; we just didn’t have the time to see “everything.”
Nonetheless, I did drive on Iceland’s Ring Road—a roadway I always dreamed about driving. Iceland’s Ring Road is the central road that encircles the entire country; it’s also called Route 1. Driving on Route 1, on one side I saw black beaches, and simultaneously on the other side I saw massive glaciers; other times, I would see ancient, moss-covered lava fields and suddenly I would see enormous waterfalls.
Driving on The Ring Road, I saw Iceland’s many awe-inspiring sites; nonetheless, if I wanted to see the least-visited spots, even more jaw-dropping natural wonders, I needed to go off Route 1, and traverse on Iceland’s F-Roads. During my trip, I didn’t ride on any F-Roads. When I eventually will return to Iceland, I plan on driving on the Diamond Circle route in North Iceland (Google it), and even some of the F-Roads.
There aren’t many paved roads in Iceland. If I wanted to drive into the interior where the Landmannalaugar region, Fjaðrárgljúfur canyon, Aldeyjarfoss waterfall, “The Laki Craters,” and other glorious sites are found, you must drive on the so-called “F-Roads.” On F-Roads, I would have needed to drive on gravel roads that require using a serious 4X4 vehicle. I would have been driving through rivers (not always placid or shallow waters), rocky and cratered pathways, and overall hinterlands.
Therefore, driving in Iceland sometimes is dangerous. Even while driving on the paved, two laned Route 1, I didn’t always feel safe or confident. The wind gusts always reminded me of how narrow the Ring Road was. I hoped the car driver on the other side of the road had a steady grip on the steering wheel while passing me because at times, the “summer” wind would blow stronger than a New York winter Nor’easter gust. Moreover, the side ditches were quite precipitous. I assume the road designers needed to divert spontaneous flood waters with frighteningly deep trenches alongside the road. I hardly had any room on the road’s shoulder if I had needed to pull over. Driving on the Ring Road kept me alert, not only because of the scenery but due to the road itself. As a result, driving in Iceland also becomes both physically and mentally tiring.
Iceland may be a “small” country; however, when you drive in Iceland, nothing feels small. Two hours of driving in Iceland don’t feel like two hours of driving at home; one hundred miles of driving in Iceland don’t feel like the one hundred miles of driving at home. Driving alongside Skógafoss waterfalls is breathtaking, for many reasons—not just because it’s beautiful but also because it’s mind-blowing. Now drive while in that condition!
I thought I understood what this reality about Iceland meant. I read the tour guidebooks and watched the online travel vloggers, informing me that if you want to see “everything” in Iceland that I would have needed at least two weeks. Nonetheless, my family and I tried to see “almost everything” in one week. Even “almost everything” in a week was too much. Only when I went there, I felt how vast, majestic, but imposing the Icelandic landscape is.
On the one hand, I’m satisfied with the itinerary we created. We saw Mount Kirkjufell and the Yoda Cave, called Gígjagjá in Icelandic—yes, the cave’s opening looks like a silhouette of the Star Wars character. We trekked through the Katla ice caves and explored the Raufarhólshellir lava tubes. We swam in Silfra’s glacial water Mid-Atlantic Ridge – the divergent tectonic boundary between the North American and Eurasian plates.
On the other hand, I soon realized I wished we added more down-time, not only to savor the wonders of the sites but to recuperate from driving to them. Excited by the next destination on the agenda, I felt invigorated by the adrenaline flooding my system; however, dreading the crash from that adrenaline rush, I also felt submerged by the anticipation of driving there. Drinking espresso and listening to hard rock music didn’t always recalibrate my equilibrium.
Sometimes, while driving in Iceland, I felt like a touring rock star, going city to city, night after night. “How much longer,” I would ask my wife-navigator. “Thirty minutes.” My reply: “Great!… but you said thirty minutes thirty minutes ago.”
Höfn, Iceland was the farthest east we traveled. My oldest son has been to Iceland twice. Due to conflicting schedules, he couldn’t join us this time, but he insisted that my wife, youngest son, and I venture past Jökulsárlón and its Diamond Beach and visit Höfn, the quaint and picturesque fishing village. The Höfn Viewpoint was his favorite spot (Google Images doesn’t do justice to it), not to mention Pakkhús Restaurant. The hour’s drive from Jökulsárlón to Höfn taxed me. The GPS guided me to the parking lot for the viewpoint. Stupendous! but I couldn’t appreciate it. I didn’t even get out of the car. I didn’t have the strength at that moment to go outside.
Since returning home, I thought about the philosophy of “less is more,” the paradoxical adage that quality not quantity offers more satisfaction and appreciation than the opposite. In my case, perhaps going to fewer places in Iceland might have been a wiser decision.
Whenever I think of the phrase, “less is more,” I chuckle because the neoclassical heavy metal guitarist, Yngwie Malmsteen, comes to my mind. During an interview, a reporter asked him about his position on “less is more” guitar playing when a musician plays fewer, not more notes, a style that Malmsteen doesn’t adhere to. Malmsteen is noted for his very fast picking and fretting hands that allow him to create longer and more intricate musical phrases. According to his detractors, Malmsteen’s numerous notes sound too busy. In response to this unflattering criticism, Malmsteen says, “Less is more… how can that be? It’s impossible… more is more! How can less be more?”[1] For Malmsteen, more notes mean more music and deeper emotion. For him, fewer notes are less impressive, less complex, less moving. If I were to adopt his sensibility of “more is more,” then more itinerary spots would mean more experiences to check off my travel list. Is doing more wrong?
I respond with another paradox: “Damned If You Do, Damned If You Don’t.” So, which kind of “damned” do I prefer to be: the traveler who goes to Iceland and tries to see everything, and feels overwhelmed but gratified that I saw them, or the traveler who goes to Iceland and visits fewer spots, and feels peaceful but also unsatisfied because I didn’t see “almost everything”?
More is more! Iceland is expensive. If you’re going, then you might as well do as much as possible to justify the cost of going to Iceland. Which natural splendor could I have omitted from my recent visit, or which activity might I have delayed from doing to save time? There’s always next time! Right? August 2024 doesn’t have to be the first and last time I travel to Iceland. Iceland is one of those places that you should go again.
I know that next time might not happen; I also know that next time could be fifteen years from now. There are so many other places in the world I haven’t visited, and they, too, beckon me to go there, NOW. I don’t know if I will ever return to any of the places I already have visited; therefore, full steam ahead, press onward, and accomplish every bucket list item when I’m there. Life is too short to wait for the next time. Just go and do it now!
Less is more! Life IS too short, but burnout also hastens it. And I think, and Reader, you’ll probably agree, that counterargument is sufficient to embrace the less is more attitude.
But, but, but… can there be a compromise? I’ve heard of people visiting Iceland in three days. Madness! After stepping out of the airport, they will spend their first day at Blue Lagoon, the geothermal water spa, a short ride from Keflavík International Airport. During the ride to Blue Lagoon, you’ll see last week’s hardened lava fields, and even observe active volcanoes! Day two: what can you do within short distances from your Reykjavík hotel? You must be picky with the available options. Hard decisions but doable. Then on day three, you fly back home.
My compromise, or adjustment to my seven-day Icelandic adventure, is this: make the itinerary nine days to include rest periods. With the extra time, I think I would have been able to step out of the car at Höfn Viewpoint. With the extra time, I think I would be more open to follow the “less is more” outlook on life. I wouldn’t dare prune the list of things to do and see.
[1] https://www.truthinshredding.com/2012/09/yngwie-malmsteen-less-is-more-no-more.html