Alexandersmap

    Category: Travel

    • Footsteps

      I wonder, now and then, who has tread on the ground I walk on. Surely this thought comes to mind often in famous places where people whom we remember did things that stir the imagination and puts us in their shoes, if only for a little while. The history buff in me lingers in places where famous moments happened. It’s my way of understanding their moment a little better, even as my moment in that place is so very different. I’m a visitor in that place in that moment, they defined the place in theirs. Walden, Culloden, Kehlsteinhaus, Liverpool’s Cavern, Saratoga… each stirred up ghosts as I walked in footsteps. Some we honor, some we simply try to understand.

      There’s that word again: understand. We can never put ourselves in the place of the characters who brought us here, but we can learn from them. History rhymes, after all. When we learn from those who came before us we might change the script, or gain insight into our next move. We’re all just re-writing history, we’re all playing the same chords. We make of it what we will.

      Last week I visited Gljúfrabúi, partly inspired by watching a YouTube video of someone walking into the gorge to experience the hidden waterfall. I re-watched that video, just to see it again from the perspective of someone who has now been there. For all the thousands of people who have likely walked there, the experience of that particular person walking in my footsteps when I’d actually walked in theirs felt circularly surreal for me. It reminded me that each of us is walking in the footsteps of others while also creating footsteps for those who will follow us. Doesn’t it make you wonder, how will we define our place?

    • A Visit to Black Sand Beach

      When polling the five people I visited Iceland with last week, the consensus pick for most memorable place to visit was Black Sand Beach (Reynisfjar​a). There are plenty of options to choose from aside from that particular location—epic waterfalls, glaciers, volcanoes, geysers, the Blue Lagoon, tectonic plates drifting away from each other, and of course, Reykjavik. Each offers a possible highlight moment on a normal week of living on this planet. But the Black Sand Beach stood out for all of us.

      Why? Because a place like Reynisfjar​a changes you, as travel does, but more viscerally than visiting the tasty Icelandic hot dog stand. It might be the distinct black sand, ground up bits of lava expressing itself vividly against the white salty foam of the crashing waves. It might be the angry seas with their sneaker waves, always threatening to pull a distracted tourist to their doom. Maybe it was the basalt columns rising up from the sand and sea, standing against the ocean in a fight to the end of time. Mostly it was all of those things, combined into a magical place that is indifferent to the hordes of tour buses casting tourists upon the sands. The beach will be here long after we’re gone, but each of us take black sand memories with us.

      Reynisfjar​a
      The white foam against black sand was mesmerizing to watch as the waves receded.
      The famous basalt columns at Reynisfjar​a. You can see them referenced in architecture in Reykjavik. You just might also see a few tourists at this beach, and this time of year, a bit of snow.

    • On Valentine’s Day, Accept Þetta Reddast

      In Iceland there’s a saying that speaks of resilience and hopefulness. In only a few days there I heard it several times, evidence of the shared belief of her people, . Þetta Reddast means it (Þetta) will all work out (Reddast). In case you’re wondering, as I did, Þetta Reddast is pronounced “thet tah red ahst“. As with countless visitors before me I fell in love with Iceland almost immediately. And I also learned that she won’t always love you back but not to worry because it all works out in the end. Þetta Reddast, friend.

      On Valentine’s Day, we celebrate the love we have for that special someone. But love is a fickle and evasive thing indeed. Live a few years and you’ll experience the good, bad and ugly of love. Some of us are lucky and find a lifetime partner. Some of us never find love at all. Most are somewhere in the middle sorting it out one day at a time. As with Iceland, it all works out in the end, mostly. Enjoy the chocolate either way.

      I say love will come to you
      Hoping just because I spoke the words that they’re true
      As if I offered up a crystal ball to look through
      Where there’s now one there will be two
      — The Indigo Girls, Love Will Come to You

      The thing about finding true love is you can’t expect it, but you have to have faith that love will sort itself out for you eventually. It’s never perfect, for none of us are perfect, and to expect it to be so is a fools game. It’s simply two people finding each other at the right time and place in their lives, when the single track trail becomes wide enough for two to walk the path together. But trails narrow and widen as we keep hiking, don’t they? Þetta Reddast. Remember it will all work out in time.

      My bride and I went to Iceland looking for adventure and a glimpse of the Northern Lights. We found adventure, but we danced with Iceland’s notorious weather and wind each night instead of the Aurora Borealis. Looking at the Aurora app, we could see epic reds, oranges and greens dancing just out of reach. We learned quickly to accept the truth in Þetta Reddast. It just wasn’t our time to be on the dance floor with Norðurljós. Perhaps, as with love, our paths will cross some other time. I’m hoping just because I spoke the words that they’re true.

    • The Practice of Living More

      I’ve become known in some circles as an avid traveler, but don’t think of myself that way. That’s comparison at work, both theirs and mine, fogging the lens of perspective. Wiping it clear, it’s more that I’m an aspiring traveler immersed in a busy life. That’s not quite the same thing, but better for me at this point in my life. Travel is a choice, and so is building a strong sense of place and contribution. We can have a healthy measure of each applying a little balance and flexibility, but we can’t have it all. What will we choose, knowing this?

      “We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit. — Aristotle

      Aristotle may have also observed that mediocrity is also built on repeatedly doing. We each get our stack of days to work with. Some choices are taken from us, some choices are hidden from us, but most of us in the modern western world have the agency to do with the bulk of our time what we would. Habitualizing excellence seems a prudent use of that time.

      The trick in living a life closer to excellence is in the repeatedly doing part. Arete, or excellence in life, is something to aspire to through our daily action. We pay penance to the gods we serve through our habits and applied effort. Put another way, through our practice:

      “When an activity becomes a practice, it shifts from something that you are doing at a point in time to an ongoing process of becoming.” — Brad Stulberg, The Practice of Groundedness

      The practice of daily living is ongoing, but with an expiration date we either reconcile ourselves with or distract ourselves from. Stoicism is holding on to that realization that this all ends one day and making the most of the time. How we live matters a great deal when we feel the urgency of an expiration date. Continuous improvement and living with intent are a prudent use of that urgency. The practice of living more means working to realize the things we aspire to, while savoring the life we’ve already built for ourselves.

    • A Visit to Reykjavik

      Reykjavik is the capital city of Iceland and the northernmost capital city in the world. As with any great city it has a strong foundation of history, culture and character. For the most part it’s highly walkable with a vibrant and diverse food and bar scene, friendly and interesting people. The trick is navigating the ice and wind in winter. They deal with ice by heating some of the main sidewalks, utilizing their abundance of geothermal heat. The wind you just learn to deal with. This blog post is a postcard from a city I’ve quickly grown to love.

      Hallgrímskirkja Lutheran Church
      Leif Erikson Statue, given to Iceland by the United States in 1930 to commemorate the 1000th anniversary of his discovery of America
      Parliament Building
      Harpa Music Hall

    • The Dweller in the Gorge

      A short walk from its more famous waterfall cousin Seljalandsfoss is a hidden waterfall that I found overwhelmingly beautiful. Gljúfrafoss is hidden in a gorge, which you can reach by wading into ankle-deep water. This leads you into a cathedral of falling water and mossy boulders. Gljúfrafoss also goes by another Icelandic name, Gljúfrabúi, which I’m told means “Dweller in the Gorge”, which describes it perfectly.

      Iceland is bearing a massive surge in popularity, and you really see that at the popular tourist spots like Seljalandsfoss, which are overwhelmed with buses and small group vans. I’m one of those visitors too, so who am I to judge? But hidden waterfalls, even the most magical ones, become overrun by the masses. I have mixed feelings about it, while being drawn to these places myself.

      I wanted to shout for the rest of my friends to join me in this misty cathedral, but there were no takers. The thing is, when you meet a place as magical as this head-on, you want the world to experience it as you have. Yet you want to be protective of it too. For a few minutes of relative quiet, as one of the few to wade into the cold waters flowing out of the gorge, I paused in reverence in the cold mist before heading back to join the masses.

      Gljúfrabúi
      A friend captured this image of me inside the gorge
      Ice formations made it even more magical

    • Geysers and Ice

      Iceland is known as the land of fire and ice, for all the volcanic activity you can find nudged up against the Arctic Circle. Visiting in February, there’s ample opportunity to experience ice, but less so fire. You just don’t get eruptions that frequently, even here. But you do get plenty of geothermal activity. They might be experienced as hot springs, as with the Blue Lagoon, or they can be experienced as geysers dancing with in sky. Both are amazing to be a part of,

      Geysers are what you might expect: groundwater boiling underground looking for a release. Once it finds a weak spot it erupts with whatever force it’s accumulated. The result, especially on a cold winter day, is a spectacular column of boiling water and steam. Not something to linger too close to, but fun to watch from just far enough away.

      The word geyser originated in Iceland, with a geyser called—surprise—Geysir. Geysir is largely dormant now, but the boiling water has a release point nearby in a geyser called Strokkur, which spouts every 7-10 minutes. It’s predictability and frequency make it a great place to experience a geyser with efficient use of your limited winter daylight.

      Strokkur
      Strokkur

    • A February Visit to the Blue Lagoon

      The Blue Lagoon is one of those tourist hot spots that are absolutely worth being a tourist for. Going there straight from the airport offers another benefit; you get to soak away the aches and pains in a delightful setting. Visiting during a windblown snow/sleet mix, it proved a surreal and wonderful experience.

      The lagoon itself is fed from the water from a geothermal plant nearby, which produces electricity for the area and hot water for the lagoon. This makes it a highly profitable place indeed. With biting cold wind making us wonder what we were getting ourselves into, the reservation was pleasantly validated as we stepping into the water. This was a place you want to linger in, especially in winter.

      They tell us there are many health benefits to immersing yourself in the waters of the Blue Lagoon, largely derived from the briny water, some beneficial algae and an abundance of silica, which turned everything a milky white. After a few hours in the water, I certainly felt the difference on my skin, but also in my overall mood. This place has magical powers. Visit if you go, but be sure to make a reservation well before you go.

    • Finding Aurora

      “The Aurora Borealis is a fickle phenomenon. A week can pass without a flicker … then bang! The Northern Lights come on like a celestial lava lamp.” — Nigel Tisdall

      I went to Iceland expecting to be disappointed by the weather. I’m not a pessimist by nature, but the forecast simply didn’t look good. There are a lot of reasons to go to Iceland in winter, but the primary reason is to see the Aurora Borealis. Yes, there are waterfalls and volcanoes, geysers and glaciers. These are spectacular, but also things that you can see any old month. But the Northern Lights are more evasive than that. Dark, clear skies are merely a starting point. You must also have some luck. Winter brings ample darkness but also some challenging weather conditions. We put ourselves in the way of beauty, but a bit of luck goes a long way too.

      Sure enough, we arrived to heavy snow. That might have frustrated me, but I’d already seen the Northern Lights on this trip. We’d had an ace up our sleeve, a window seat facing north for the flight, which carried us over the snow-laden clouds, up where auroras dance. It’s there that I finally glimpsed it, checking a box I wondered when I’d ever get to. There’s still hope for more dances with Aurora, should the weather cooperate, beginning tonight. Bucket lists deserve more than a brief encounter to savor, don’t you think?

    • Each Page

      All of Time began when you first answered
      to the names your mother and father gave you.

      Soon, those names will travel with the leaves.
      Then, you can trade places with the wind.

      Then you’ll remember your life
      as a book of candles,
      each page read by the light of its own burning.
      — Li-Young Lee, Become Becoming

      Recently, I spoke about travel with people who aren’t traveling right now for the same reasons I once didn’t travel. Different chapter of life, as the saying aptly goes. Each page offers value and helps complete the story, but we don’t always see that when the story is incomplete.

      The thing is, the story is always incomplete to the very end. We live a novel life with the last page ripped out. There’s simply no knowing how this one turns out until we get there ourselves. Each page is ours to write, mostly ours anyway, edited by the troupe that presently surrounds us. Our task is to make it a hell of a story.

      Page-turners tend to be thrilling but lack substance. Weightier tomes sometimes feel plodding and a chore to get through but leave a mark long after we’ve tucked them up on the shelf. Somewhere in between is a life’s work that is meaningfully appealing and often reflected upon.

      Ultimately there will be other chapters. Aware of this, we might choose to weave magic and depth into this one. When we arrive later in our story, the pieces may finally all come together. It’s then that we’ll remember the true meaning of each page.