Nothing you might see elsewhere in Iceland prepares you for the stark, desolate, raw beauty of the barren upland plateau (500–900m) that is the Interior (known in Icelandic as hálendið or “highlands”), Europe’s last true wilderness
It has been quite the first day arriving into Iceland. Not having traveled internationally since I was fifteen, I was immediately mind blown by the environment of the KEF airport; the cultural shift in the people (they are interesting and beautiful), the modern design aesthetics, the barren lava fields that greeted us as the sun rose on our drive to Reykjavik, covered in snow with sparse white hillsides rising in the midst somewhat majestically. As we arrived, jet lagged after fifteen hours of travel, our host Olga greeted us with a bit of snacks in a super charming apartment that her family rents out. There are three levels with many antiquated rooms full of time and character. The apartment was warmed but the windows all left open with a bit of chill drafting through - the rainy, wintery vibes rustling just outside the windowsills soothed me greatly.
She left her house cat with us, whose name is so Icelandic that we can’t bother to even pronounce it. He has been napping with my cousin Tim who is traveling with me. It was all that I could do this morning not to wake them from laughing when I peeked behind the bedroom door and found them asleep together. After not having eaten or slept for hours, we devoured the snacks with gratitude and quickly napped several hours away. When we woke, we went out to walk downtown Reykjavik for a short bit just before sundown. Not much time or energy for photos today and I am quite rusty with the pro-cam but I managed to take a few. I have no idea what to expect with the rest of the island but I am already moved and mesmerized by this place.