Iceland, Day 3: Hoofing it around Reykjavík

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Wednesday was our first day of actually exploring Reykjavík proper. The hotel provided a shuttle to the city center, which was very helpful. As was becoming fairly customary, it was a cold and windy day, and we were smacked around by snow and ice pellets for most of it. When it wasn't raining, anyway.

We hopped off the shuttle, and were immediately confronted with a Quizno's. We figured there were better places to stop and get our bearings, so we popped into a konditori to plan our attack. A's not a big map reader, but she's always a good sport when I go into Rommel mode and start looking at the map like I'm on my way to El Alamein.

After a quick chocolate-covered donut thing, we headed for main shopping street, which, conveniently, sports a large banner that says "Main Shopping Street." Our first stop was 66˚ North, an Icelandic outerwear specialist. A picked up a neck gaiter, as she didn't have a scarf and the wind was pretty brutal.

From 66˚ North, we headed up the street to visit Hallgrímskirkja, Reykjavík's signature church. (There's a statue of Leifur Eiriksson in front of it, looking like he's standing in the prow of a Viking longboat.) The steeple is 75m high, and the supporting structures are supposed to look like volcanic basalt columns (more on basalt columns in a few days). It took 34 years to finish building the church. There was a funeral going on, though, and we couldn't get in until later. I had passed a couple of churches on my first day in town and they were also holding funerals. The national flag was at half-mast both times. A says this is something they also do in Norway—I'd never heard of the custom outside of state funerals/mourning.

Leifur looking intrepid

So we then worked our way through the surrounding neighborhood, where most of the houses were covered in corrugated tin rather than traditional clapboards or siding. It's probably an effective method for keeping out harsh weather, but it's certainly not the most attractive option.

Note the siding (and the snowflakes)

We ended up at the water's edge, where we checked out the Sólfar sculpture, which I have seen described as a cross between "a Viking ship and a giant centipede." It's mounted on marble, which looks very cool until you set foot on it and start inadvertently skating...

Sólfar, so good...

Because it was so cold and wet, I had my earmuffs on, and my hood pulled tightly around my head and face. I nearly got hit by a car because I couldn't hear or see very well. That would have made an interesting (and pathetic) end to my Reykjavík experience.

After an hour of freezing, we returned to 66˚ North so I could pick up a neck gaiter for myself, and so A could pick up a sort of Elmer Fudd hat, complete with furry earflaps.

Enough time had passed that the Hallgrímskirkja was open, so we trudged up the hill once again. It was worth the trudging. We went into the main area and sat down in a pew for a few minutes, listening to the organist practicing. It was then time to make our ascent into the steeple. (If the whole church is shaped like that, is it really a steeple then?)

Looking toward the altar in Hallgrímskirkja


The pipe organ created magnificent sound

Leifur Eiriksson as seen through the clock face

The elevator lets you off in the area behind the clock faces. You can look through the plexiglass and have decent views of the entire city. It's only when you brave going up one more level into the open-air (and painfully cold and windy) section that you get the full effect of the view. The weather had cleared a bit while we were there, and there was even a tiny bit of sun shining through, which made the views even more beautiful. (Check out my phlog for more photos from the steeple—they'll be there soon if they're not already.)

No plexiglass makes a difference, no?

We stayed in the open-air part of the steeple as long as we could stand it, and then started off down the hill. We found ourselves at Reykjavík's City Hall (the Raðhus), a very modern and inviting building (especially inviting when it starts snowing). After a little sit-down with some hot chocolate, I was keen to check out an old cemetery that was nearby. As soon as we got outside, though, it started snowing even harder. So much for the cemetery idea—we needed to find some dinner. Ultimately we opted for Indian food (!) at a place called Shalimar. The Pakistani ambassador to Iceland has said that this is the best Indian/Pakistani food he's ever had outside of the subcontinent. He's right, I think. The food was fantastic.

The hostess asked me what I thought of Iceland. I think she was expecting the usual "I love it," but I told her I thought it was kind of bleak, and that I didn't think I'd be able to live there. She was surprised at my response, but I think she also found it a bit refreshing to hear something besides the cliché (at least I hope so, anyway).

We hopped back on the hotel shuttle after the driver grunted at us that, yes, this was the right bus for the Hotel Nordica. When we got back, A had a drink that the hotel bar had invented and for which it had apparently won some sort of award. We signed up for the Golden Circle tour going out the next day, and then called it a day.