Reykjavík Grapevine - 05.10.2012, Blaðsíða 30

I sometimes wonder why Icelanders are not more
avid tourists in their own country. I wonder how
many of them have never driven around the island
or gone snowmobiling on a glacier. And of those, I
wonder how many have instead been to mainland
Europe where they’ve done similar trips.
Rafting is perhaps one of the few tourist
activities that attract Icelanders. In 1983, long
before Iceland’s tourist boom, a rafting company
started operating out of the Drumbó base camp
on Hvítá River. And since then, 150,000 Iceland-
ers—roughly half of today’s population—have
gone rafting. Even now, with Iceland welcoming
nearly double its population in visitors—40% of
rafters remain locals.
Ever since learning this in an interview with
Arctic Adventures founder and CEO Torfi G.
Yngvason last year, I had been planning on trying
it. And it was about time.
Taking in South Iceland
A few minutes past noon, Grapevine’s photogra-
pher Natsha walked in. I put down the magazine
and an Arctic Adventures guide led us to a large
van parked on nearby Hverfisgata. We picked up
a couple of other travellers and made our way out
of town.
On our way over the Hellisheiði plateau, we
were stuck behind a bus whose driver had left
his right blinker on, as if he were going to steer
off road at any minute. Meanwhile the Swedes
behind me sang along to Jessie J’s “Price Tag”:
“…It’s not about the money, money, money…”
We descended into South Iceland, eventually
making a left hand turn, past throngs of summer-
houses in the direction of Geysir before turning
right toward Drumbó. Upon arriving it was clear
that we wouldn’t be the only ones rafting that
afternoon. Base camp was packed with Iceland-
ers who seemed to be on a company outing.
In a big room full of equipment hanging on
racks, we were instructed to put on a sleeveless
30 The Reykjavík GrapevineIssue 16 — 2012TRAVEL
150km from Reykjavík
Trip provided by Arctic Adventures. Book trip at
www.adventures.is or call +354-562-7000Hvítá1
Words by Anna Andersen
It was almost noon on a windy weekday at the end of August. A
steady stream of Gortex-clad travellers filed into the Arctic Adven-
tures office in Reykjavík, passing by the couch where I sat mindlessly
turning the pages of a tourist brochure.
Natsha Nandabhiwat
If You’re Gonna Get
Wet…
…yes, you might as
well go swimming
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