Reykjavík Grapevine - 12.08.2016, Blaðsíða 24

The vast, deso-
late highlands
of Iceland are the
largest area of
uninhabited and
largely undis-
turbed nature
in Europe. They
sit in the centre
of the country,
extending over
much of the
island’s land-
mass, towering
above the shelf of
land that forms
most of Iceland’s
inhabited
coastline.
The highlands
are almost com-
pletely wild. The
two main driving
routes of Kjölur
and Sprengisan-
dur are unpaved,
boulder-strewn
trails that
wind their way
through wide-
open desert,
undulating
hills, flanked
by snow-striped
mountains and
sky-high, vivid
blue glaciers.
This vast, natu-
ral emptiness
is a powerful
draw for people
seeking to escape
from city life,
and the wild
landscape has an
emotional effect
on visitors. The
highlands are a
rare place in the
Western world
where nature
rules unchal-
lenged, and the
land’s silent roar
elicits fear, won-
der and respect
for nature in
many who pass
through
the region.
The landscape
is varied, but un-
varyingly rough.
In the north,
jagged lava fields
and shifting gla-
cial flood rivers
are challenging
driving even in a
modified Icelan-
dic “super jeep.”
The western
route of Kjölur is
a winding, dusty
desert trail on
which it’s pos-
sible to drive for
an hour without
encountering an-
other soul. To the
east, the dramat-
ic Sprengisandur
route cuts inland
from Vatnajökull.
Each glacier, big
or small, is a
force unto itself:
an organism of
compacted snow,
squatting high in
the mountains
and overspilling
into picturesque,
glittering
glacier tongues.
Human inter-
ruptions are
few. A few small
camping grounds
exist, sometimes
clustered around
geothermal oases
that give rise to
green areas rich
with plant life
and bubbling hot
springs. In such
a vast wilder-
ness, human life
seems to attain a
different focus.
Each building
seems to grow
in significance:
a tiny dot of hu-
manity in a huge
swathe of land.
The scarcity of
objects and lack
of access to sup-
plies also invites
a more mind-
ful approach to
consumption.
But far away
in the city, the
current Icelan-
dic government
seems deaf to the
voice of nature.
Controversial in-
dustrial projects
that seek to har-
ness the glacial
meltwaters may
seem environ-
mentally friendly
at first glance,
but hydroelectric
dams require
access roads and
power lines, and
their construc-
tion destroys
waterfalls and
floods large
areas of undis-
turbed land. Each
new development
is met with loud
resistance, not
only from NGOs
and activists,
but from the
Icelandic popula-
tion. A campaign
called “Protect
The Park” found
80% of Icelanders
would support
the foundation
of a national
park across the
entire region.
At this crucial
moment, the
future of the
highlands hangs
in the balance.
Over the fol-
lowing pages,
we’ve drawn
together some
of our favourite
photographs
of the high-
lands. While the
pictures speak
for themselves,
you’ll also find
some thoughts
on the area’s sig-
nificance from
people who’ve
lived and worked
there, and from
those fighting
to conserve and
protect this
precious, bleak,
beautiful, one-off
part of Iceland.
“There..
Can Be
Only One”
On the significance
of Iceland’s vast
highland wilderness
By JOHN ROGERS
Tómas Guðbjartsson
“Icelanders have a bit of an inferiority
complex about themselves and their na-
ture. They think: ‘It’s much more beauti-
ful in Canada, or it’s much more beautiful
in Colorado.’ But when you take people to
these areas who have been all over the
world and they say, ‘Wow, this is some-
thing,’ then you realise yourself that this
is worth something.
“[The tourist boom] is perhaps happening
too fast, at least for the Highlands, be-
cause we haven’t built the infrastructure.
It’s a little bit like having a party, and
inviting a lot of people, but you don’t
have enough seats for them. I see it as a
huge question for all Icelanders—not just
us living now, but for future generations.”
The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 12 — 2016
24
Photo ART BICNICK