Reykjavík Grapevine - 28.08.2010, Síða 42

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CONSTABLE POINT
Greenland
30
The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 13 — 2010
Mother Earth is a stable, solid rock – that has al-
ways been something I was sure of. Walking on
this special piece of earth called Iceland, this fun-
damental certainty vanishes. Observing erupting
volcanoes and hot steam leaking out of the moun-
tains, I get the feeling that this freaky nature is ev-
erything else but stable and solid. Þingvellir is the
place where I literally see the world breaking in
two. There are big cracks crossing the landscapes,
forming huge rifts. This is the place where the Eur-
asian and the North American continental plates
drift apart about two centimetres per year. That is
fucking creepy.
If it is not scary enough to lose the conviction
of secure grounds, we are about to go snorkelling
in Silfra, one of those cracks, which is filled with
water. It might sound like fun, but think about it:
What if, while I’m in there, the world really breaks
apart? Or, if the continental plates can drift apart,
what if they decide to move back together again?
What will happen if I sink, will I end up in the cen-
tre of the earth?
The other tourists on this day trip don’t seem
worried at all. Our tour guide, a relaxed Icelandic
surfer, unpacks the snorkelling devices. There is
a lot of giggling and funny photo taking going on.
Putting on our “bear suits” (a warm under suit, to
protect us from the cold), we are told that the wa-
ter is supposed to be two to four degrees. Now I
see a few concerned faces, but not for long. Put-
ting on the funny looking dry suits with attached
shoes, the crowd gets even more excited. The last
uncovered faces disappear under big goggles and
snorkels. This is the time, when the fun-picture-
taking reaches its peak - while I try not to pee my
pants… or, erm… my bear suit.
Walking clumsily in this unusual turn-out to the
crack, I realise, that there is no way out now. One
after the other has to stop by the surfer dude to
get his suit checked, put on flippers and then spit
in their goggles (please don’t ask why!). After this
procedure I find myself in the water. It doesn’t feel
cold at all! It is not scary at all! It is beautiful as
hell!
MAGIC WATER WONDERLAND
The suit gives me buoyancy. I am moved forward
by the light current, so I hardly ever have to pad-
dle. Floating in the crystal clear water, I almost feel
like flying. Below me unfold uncountable shades
of blue, from marine to turquoise. The sun draws
trembling patterns on the ground below at depths
of three to thirty meters. I am surrounded by rough
rocks – European rocks to the right and American
ones to the left. I could touch both continents at
the same time (but I don't, because I was told not
to).
Following the guide, we are snorkelling in line,
one after the other. Even though I see the other
snorkellers ahead of me, I kind of feel alone.
Around me is total silence, except the sound of my
breath through the snorkel. I focus my sight on the
water wonderland below me and luckily see one
extraordinary colourful fish swimming by. Later
on, I watch a lost flipper sinking to the ground –
gracefully.
After about forty-five minutes of overwhelming
view, I crawl out of the water again. Looking back
on the water in the crack, nature doesn’t seem so
scary after all; more like a beautiful miracle. The
other members are heading to the next event of
the trip. Jumping from a cliff down into the water,
they are having a blast. I decide that I had enough
excitement for one day so I just keep on standing
in the sun, contemplating this sublime – and (hell
yeah!) fun – experience.
Arctic Adventure ś snorkelling tour “Into the Blue” costs
9.990 ISK, with a pick up in Reykjavik 12.990 ISK. w
Travel | Diving Travel | West Fjords
Snorkelling In Between Two Continents
Western MagicA fun and sublime experience in Þingvellir National Park
Secluded hot tubs,
abandoned ruins, and tales
of witchcraft
& sorcery in the West
Fjords
WIEBKE WOLTER
JULIA STAPLES
Trip provided by Arctic Adventures
Booking tel.: +354-562-7000 or www.adventures.is
Moss covered lava fields, jutting cliffs, sheep-
dotted mountians, roadside cairns—the treeless
landscape from Reykjavík to the West Fjords kept
my travel companion and I wide-eyed throughout
the roughly seven hour trip to Heydalur. After driv-
ing to the end of a winding gravel road, populated
with only a few dimly lit houses, we reached our
destination a little before midnight. Our keys were
waiting in the door to our room, as the guests in
the other eight rooms and the staff had retired for
the night. Too exhausted to venture into the dark-
ness to find the hot pot, we slid into our warm beds
for a restful night’s sleep.
The next morning, we breakfasted in the large
dining hall—a converted cow barn complete with
wide-timbered walls; horseshoes and harnesses;
brightly coloured, abstract paintings and a chan-
delier made from rope-tied bottles. The friendly
staff provided us with fresh bread, fruits, meats,
coffee, skyr and a variety of other foods and drinks