As we motor through suburban
gloom of downtown Reykjavik, the only break from the endless shades of
grey are the Christmas lights that twinkle on the quirky houses and multi
storey offices.
It's 10.30am and
still dark. The journey begins in the eerie, misty harbour. The tour bus
collects travellers from various accommodations, announcing their nationalities
to the other passengers as they climb on-board. It's reminiscent of the voting
call in the Eurovision Song Contest but very bonding, nonetheless. With all the
nations more happily united than the EU, we head out of town.
We have prepared for
this long weekend in Iceland by purchasing an array of thermal garments,
scarves and bubble jackets. Everyone else looks as if they have done the same.
The bus seems to be stuffed with brightly coloured bloated snooker balls with
bobble hats. The snooker ball people bounce off each other until they
shed a few layers to reduce body mass and are able to sit down.
It's freak weather -
our guide apologies - in fact it’s the warmest December for 178 years. I can't
help but think that we might have wasted a couple of hundred quid on our winter
apparel, until someone reminds me that that's just the price of dinner for two
at an average Icelandic restaurant, then it feels like not such a big deal.
The guide warns us
of high costs in Iceland, advising us to avoid the toilets at the next stop as
they come with a hefty £4 price tag. It's hardly spending a penny in
Iceland, is it?
I was never keen on
Iceland for a weekend break, but goaded my fiancée who bought the trip as a gift and inspired by TV’s Rick
Stein who also didn’t fancy Iceland but ended up loving it, I agreed to go. As it
turns out, I’m already enthralled by the country within a day of being here.
The reason? I love
stories. To me, travel is about stories and people. Yes, sights too - but it is
the stories and the people that very often bring these sights to life for me.
And if you like stories, you’ll love Iceland…
The Yuletide Lads
The Yuletide Lads are
figures from Icelandic folklore There are thirteen of them. Every night, the
last thirteen nights before Christmas Eve, one Yuletide lad visits each child,
leaving gifts or potatoes, depending on the child’s recent behaviour.
My relationship with
the Yuletide Lads began at Reykjavik Airport at one of those photo opportunities
places that I can never resist. It’s a foolish weakness, I know, but I can’t pass
these things by. I’m always the first to stick my head on the boards with the missing
faces and silly bodies at British seaside resorts. If you’ve seen me, I apologise.
At the airport, I had
just assumed that it as an Icelandic way of having a laugh at the tourists who
gleefully climbed in to have their pictures taken. Icelanders have a keen sense
of humour but I suspected there might be more to this story than met the eye
and so we began to ask around.
At a Reykjavik pub,
later that day, we ask the young barmaid to explain the Yuletide Lads. She
tells the story as if she has been trained as a professional tour guide – a
common trait amongst the proud Icelanders. We begin to understand why we had
seen the ubiquitous caricatures all around the city. They are the personification
of Christmas in Iceland.
“What about Father
Christmas?” I ask.
“If you’ve come here looking for Father Christmas you will be disappointed” she replies, sounding
distinctly like a Russian spy in a Bond film.
It’s a sentence that
I didn’t ever expect to hear directed at a man in his 40’s and it just makes me
smile every time I think about it.
Women
On October 24, 1975, 90 percent of
women in Iceland went on strike to campaign for equal rights. A BBC report describes the day:
Instead of going to the office, doing
housework or childcare they took to the streets in their thousands to rally for
equal rights with men. It is known in Iceland as the Women's Day Off. Banks,
factories and some shops had to close, as did schools and nurseries - leaving
many fathers with no choice but to take their children to work.
There were reports of men arming
themselves with sweets and colouring pencils to entertain the crowds of
overexcited children in their workplaces. Sausages - easy to cook and popular
with children - were in such demand the shops sold out.
Those are just two of the many interesting stories
– some factual, some fictional – that I enjoyed in Iceland.
Yes, Iceland has a much talked about landscape
that looks as if it belongs on another planet. Yes, you can bathe in silica-infused
waters that come from the centre if the Earth. Yes, you will no doubt enjoy watching
geysers spout water 40 feet in the air.
But the real deal for me are the stories and the
charming and witty people who tell them. Go to Iceland armed with an open mind
and a full wallet and you are virtually guaranteed a brilliant and quirky break.
