Iceland: Where’s Father Christmas?

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.