Wagga Wagga to Worcestershire & back again
To me, the Snæfellnes Peninsula on the west coast of Iceland felt like the set for a post-apocalyptic western movie. Vast open plains in rich browns and reds dotted with mountains dusted with snow, that from a distance resembled Viennetta ice cream. A robot on a horse with a rifle slung across his back could’ve cantered past me and I wouldn’t have thought it looked out of place at all…
Driving into Iceland’s ‘northern capital’ Akureyri in November is like arriving at some sort of fantastical winter wonderland.
Here, a small city sits on the shores of fjord surrounded by snow capped mountains. There are children in puffy onesie snow suits and mittens looking like little marshmallows, red heart traffic lights and decidedly Scandinavian homes all boxy with white rimmed windows and colourful exteriors.
It’s a little bit lovely…
One of the most exciting parts of my recent trip to Iceland was the fact that we got to explore the north of the country. Two of our party, including Adam, had done a bit of sight-seeing around the south, but the north was a whole new frontier.
It didn’t fail to deliver…
Maybe it’s the fact that I grew up in tropical climes, but to me there’s something about the magic of a proper bone-chilling, snowy winter in the far reaches of the northern hemisphere. As a child, pouring over pages of maps in my beloved atlas, these countries full of mountains and unpronounceable place names felt almost non-existent. They were so different and alien to anything I’d seen or experienced.
When I met Adam I quickly learnt that he too had a soft spot for wild, rugged places with chilly, changeable weather. It probably comes as no surprise then, that when Adam’s brother John and his partner Sally suggested we go on a week-long trip to Iceland that we jumped at the opportunity…
Wattle and Ash 