Reykjavík Grapevine - 05.10.2012, Page 31

wetsuit, a splash-proof jacket, a life jacket, boo-
ties and a helmet. “To make everyone’s life easier,
all of the Velcro closes to the left,” the instructor
told the amused crowd. “You laugh, but you’d be
surprised…”
All suited up, we piled into a big yellow school
bus and were chauffeured to our starting point on
Hvítá, a glacial river with class II rapids. A biting
wind blew in our faces as we received a short
tutorial and were divided up into four boats.
Going down Hvítá River
Once in the water, we were more or less alone
with our boat and the fact that we had arrived
with a busload of tourists became a non-issue.
Grapevine photographer and I wound up with a
family of five and unfortunately the little boy in
front of me was a bit paddling-challenged, but
awkwardly clashing paddles wouldn’t prove to be
a big problem.
Our guide Frikki kept things interesting, call-
ing out simple commands like “forward,” back,”
“stop” and “down,” and building suspense as we
headed into parts of the river called ominous
things like “Bad Omen” and “Titanic Turn.”
There was never any real danger though and
the chances of falling overboard were slim to
none. For those who dared, the most exciting part
of the trip was probably jumping off the cliff into
the frigid water below. Like a drill sergeant, Frikki
sent people over the edge: “Go. Go. Go. Go…”
And one by one like lemmings they went.
For those who share my morbid fear of
heights, there would still be a chance to get wet.
As we approached the last set of rapids before
the final calm in the river, Frikki offered us the
chance to float down the rapids. As he said, “Why
go rafting if you don’t want to be wet and cold,
right?”
Shivering back to base camp
I put down my paddle and jumped out of the boat.
The glacial water immediately spilled in through
my splash-proof jacket and soaked through my
suit. I hugged my life jacket and tried to stay in
proper form on my back as the water repeatedly
splashed me in the face.
After getting back on the boat, the adrenaline
wore off and I proceeded to shiver my way back
to base camp. I struggled to remove my booties
with numb fingers, uncomfortably stripped off the
rest of my sopping wet clothes, put on a bathing
suit and b-lined for the sauna where my fellow
rafters were already packing in like sardines.
We downed cups of hot chocolate and filled
up on BBQ lamb while Frikki played guitar in
true camp-style fashion. I chatted with one of
the other instructors about the rafting operation,
which I learned had taken 13,000 people down
the river this summer. At some point in our con-
versation he asked me, “So, why are you doing
this?” And I thought for a second before replying:
“Well, I guess I just like doing it.”
By the time we arrived in Reykjavík it was late
evening and I still hadn’t shaken the cold, but it
had nonetheless been another great day at work
for me.
31 The Reykjavík GrapevineIssue 16 — 2012TRAVEL
Tips
Don’t wear cotton because when cotton
gets wet it gets cold. That’s what cotton
does.
Wear woollen long underwear and socks.
Wear a fleece sweater. If you forget, they
have some lost and found ones for loan.
But they are apparently smelly and most
likely damp from the last person borrow-
ing it.
Jump in and get wet! Because why not? It’s
not every day that you get the chance to go
swimming in a glacial river.
Bring an underwater camera! Those are
always fun!
Don’t forget to bring extra clothes. You
will be dearly disappointed if you forget.
Despite the post-rafting sauna and hot
shower, you will be cold if for instance you
don’t have a pair of dry socks.
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