Restlessness

We zoom down over lava and lichen to Keflavik airport, pass through security (they’re still as young as before), change money (kroner, not euros), arrange a hotel and catch a bus for the 50 kilometer ride into Reykjavik. Stacks of rock beckon human-like as we pass, everywhere is lava rubble, and we see not a single tree until we approach the city. Hotel Snorri is ridiculously expensive and proves little more than a hostel, but it is clean and convenient, and Mia needs to lie down. We settle in, I get food at the 11/11 store, I put the girls to bed after dinner, and then restlessness sends me out the door to explore.

It is 9pm and feels like 5pm, the sun is still that high.

I walk down Snorrabraut and take a left down Laugavegur, the main shopping street in the city.

The street is crowded with young people, some couples arm in arm, some formally dressed groups. Laugavegur becomes Bankastraeti becomes Austurstraeti, and then I am in a more residential area before hitting the water.

I turn right to the harbor, following the sea wall finally to a series of huge storage tanks overlooking the sea.

It is past 11pm now, and the sun still shines brightly at the horizon.

A couple of guys are spraying graffiti on a wall, great loops of orange and green and black, but otherwise it is completely quiet. From far off downtown I hear traces of traffic, then some gulls fly by, then I hear the waves.

Light glints off the cathedral dominating Reykjavic, far off in the distance. I feel alive and tired both, glad to experience this unusual moment: the sun bouncing off the horizon at midnight. The quality of the light is unforgettable.

Downtown, restless teenagers squeal their tires, many cruise down the main street in an orderly procession, and there is plenty of life left to the evening. There is not a trace of litter anywhere however. I walk back to the hotel for a few hours rest.

Reykjavik, Iceland