Iceland Day 2

Iceland Day Two

With my day of promised city life now behind me, it was time to head out and traverse the Golden Circle. The Golden Circle got its name because it’s a circular road that starts and ends in Reykjavik. Oh, and it's pretty. The whole loop takes about 5 hours to drive, and that’s without stopping to see any sights. And there are many sights. We stopped at Thingvellir National Park, Bruarfoss, Geysir, Gulfoss, and Kerid.

We took all of our photos either with her cell phone using a slow-shutter app for the waterfalls or my phone with a Bluetooth shutter button that I always keep on me. We also had a 3-foot tripod to hold our phones. It’s nice not having to ask strangers to take pictures for you, especially when you’re trying to capture the perfect shot of a waterfall without looking like a tourist. (Although, I guess we were tourists, but at least we weren’t bothering people for help!)

Thingvellir National Park was commissioned because of the cave inside the park where the world’s first parliament was held. They probably didn’t anticipate that Game of Thrones would end up filming there, but hey, good things come to those who wait. If you’ve ever seen Arya and The Hound traveling together in season 4, this is the place they were.

The highlights of this vast area include Oxarafoss and the Silfra Fissure. Oxarafoss literally translates to "Axe Waterfall." It got its name because the Vikings used to do their executions here. The story behind it is chilling, but the waterfall itself is beautiful. We recommend downloading a slow-shutter app on your phone to get some great shots of Iceland’s many waterfalls.

The Silfra Fissure is the only place in the world where you can stand on dry land and see the separation of two tectonic plates. That’s a tough sentence to say after a few beers. Most of these plate separations happen under the ocean, but here you can clearly see the North American and Eurasian Plates parting from a platform and a set of stairs that were set up for divers to enter the water between them. It’s a pretty wild experience to be standing in a place where two continents literally drift apart.

I wore my giant winter coat with all the pockets because, as you know, it still had the ring buried deep inside. My then-girlfriend (now betrothed—easier to spell) had two rules for the proposal: it had to be scenic, and it had to be documented. This was a departure from my original idea for the proposal, but I guess she gets to pick. After all, I’m the one who had to pay for the ring. It’s only fair. Anyway, the scenic part was definitely covered by the beauty of the place. Now onto step 2—setting up the camera.

I went with the dad-on-Christmas-morning approach to the camera. I’d only ever used it to film my college rock band's concerts, so clearly, I was an expert. The tripod wasn’t cooperating, but I powered through it. Let me set the scene: we’re at the Silfra Fissure, and there’s a diving class passing through our area. Time is ticking.

I used the classic “look over there” strategy to distract her while I fumbled with setting up the camera. Then came the real challenge—diving deep into my pocket-within-a-pocket to find the ring. It took way too long, and she started asking questions. After I finally got a solid grip on it (a grip so tight I thought I might break the platinum), I hit record and started walking toward her.

The grip was thanks to my dad’s advice: “Don’t drop the ring.” Pure wisdom. The subway grate-style platform didn’t leave much room for error. I might as well have proposed to the depths of the Atlantic Ocean. Would even that be appreciated, considering what Rose dropped in the Titanic? Is this the same ocean?

Anyway, I started walking toward her and dropped to one knee as her mantra of “what’s happening, what’s happening?” echoed between the cliffs. Then I said it, to be forever mocked: “Will you make me the happiest man in the world, like they say in the movies?”

I shoved the ring on her finger, no time for explanations that I didn’t trust her to hold onto it over the subway grate. I maintain to this day that she never actually said yes—but the gasp counts, I guess. Plus, her mom handed us a binder labeled “Wedding Planning” when she picked us up at the airport. I guess we’re engaged.

We headed to Bruarfoss, a spot not found on any tour bus route. This place is more of a whisper among the insiders, a rumor passed between those in the know. The journey there— and I mean journey— started with us driving through a ritzy summer-home neighborhood. Ominous voice: "Then one must park where there is no parking. Then one must walk where there are no trails." Great. Just great.

Let’s just say getting there was no walk in the park—literally. It was about a 45-minute trek through the woods behind the neighborhood. There wasn’t really a trail, and we didn’t have a map. We were pretty much just pushing through bushes. Oh, and there was mud. Lots of mud. So, at least there’s that. The rumor had said to “listen for the sound of water,” but all I could hear was my breathing, and the wind tunnel effect wasn’t helping either.

Eventually, though, we heard the water. And there it was—crystal blue and so clear it looked fake. It’s all runoff from a melting glacier. Against the advice of my better half, I decided to test my waterproof gear by stepping into the water for a drink. We had a little plastic baggy, which I filled from the falls, and we each took a sip. It was so cold and pure, I felt like this was my best chance at developing superpowers.

“Now that’s what I call high-quality H2O,” I said, channeling my inner Bobby Boucher.

Next stop: Geysir. Now, before you start knocking the unoriginal name, remember, this is the original geyser. The one that gave all the others their name. Sadly, it’s been closed up due to a tectonic plate shift. I even offered to pry it open myself, but no takers. Not to worry, though, its little brother, Stokkur, is still up and running. You can enjoy the unmistakable smell of rotten eggs (sulfur) while you wait about 10 minutes for the next eruption.

Be warned: there’s a splash zone. Also, expect tourists to observe where you’re standing and then move directly into your line of sight. Classic. If you’re hungry, there’s an overpriced eatery nearby. But you can justify the price by going full-on Viking and eating all the farmer’s soup you can. This lamb soup is all-you-can-eat, so naturally, I made it hurt. Oh, it hurt. Both the price and my stomach felt the consequences.

We washed it down with the first mini-champagne bottle of our engagement. A fitting celebratory sip after stuffing myself with soup and enjoying a geyser eruption.

Next, we hit Gulfoss, the biggest waterfall we saw on the Golden Circle. It’s truly impressive, not just for its size but also because it powers much of Iceland’s electricity. Have I mentioned that Iceland’s utilities operate free of charge? That’s right – their electricity is entirely from hydro or wind power, their water is locally sourced, hot water comes straight from hot springs, and their heating is all geothermal. Pretty cool, right? Not sure about air conditioning, though – we certainly didn’t need it. The shower water was luxurious, though it did have a slight sulfur smell, which somehow added to the experience. How cool are free utilities? You can even use that geothermal heat to bake bread! Just dig a hole.

The next life-threatening location was Kerid, which turned out to be an absolute gem for photos. Kerid used to be a volcano, and the last time it erupted, it collapsed on itself – imploding to form a concave crater. Over time, the crater filled with water, creating a beautiful lake! You have the option to walk around the upper rim or the lower rim, both offering different perspectives of the stunning landscape.

The upper rim, though treacherous, provided breathtaking edge-of-the-world type photos. Meanwhile, the couple in front of us – the woman was wearing 4-inch heels on the rocky path – gave us plenty of time to stop and snap our own pics. I think she might’ve been training for a career as a volcano model. Is that a thing?

The lower rim has a smaller circumference but leads to cute bench photos (if you haven’t guessed, there was a bench). The fun part was knowing that tourists were hot on our heels. The bench was prime real estate, and we felt the pressure to take the perfect photo before they caught up. We set up the tripod, grabbed my picture-clicker, and got to work. The whole experience felt like starring in a zombie movie, except instead of zombies, it was an approaching horde of tourists. "Smile! Don’t smile. Jacket on! Jacket off. Flex! They’re getting closer. Suck in your beer gut!"

After exploring the Golden Circle, it was time to do some souvenir shopping. The Hand Knitted Association of Iceland ensures all wool products sold in Iceland are approved, and yes, I did mention this before, but it’s worth repeating because it’s just that cool. We made sure to look for their seal of approval as we browsed for treasures.

She was on a mission to find an Icelandic wool blanket for those chilly Pittsburgh nights – but let's be real, we knew that blanket would be too nice to actually use. It was more for admiration than warmth. After checking out a few shops, she found her soulmate. No, not me, but the blanket.

Meanwhile, I fell in love with a coozie made of Icelandic wool. It even came with a tiny hat for your beer! I’ve been using it ever since, proudly sporting the “Handmade in Iceland” tag. To this day, it’s my trusty beer companion, a cozy reminder of our Icelandic adventures.