Amy Goes to Reykjavík: 2013

In slightly under three weeks, I will be leaving Canada to live abroad in Iceland. I have lived my entire life in Nova Scotia, and have never been away for more than two weeks. I am leaving my friends and family behind to go live on an island in the middle of the North Atlantic, where I know almost no-one, and barely speak the language. I may or may not be insane for doing this.

So, you might be wondering, why on earth did you decide to do this? Well, to be honest, I have no great reason, only many small ones that add up to about equal a good one. If you'll bear with me, I shall outline them.

The distance. It may seem far away from Canada, but I have family that lives within this country that actually live a greater distance away, just like many Atlantic Canadians. I just have more red tape to go through to move there.
The people. I spent a couple of weeks in Ísafjörður last summer, and felt absolutely at home. The differences in everyday custom are slight, and people are just as outgoing as here. Which is to say, they mainly keep to themselves beyond a quick "Góðan daginn." They work hard, and then they play hard.
The food. While not exactly renowned for their cuisine (hákarl, anyone?), most Icelandic food is hearty and unpretentious, just the way I like it. Lamb, potatoes, white fish, skyr, rye bread, cheese, and blueberries are all I need to have a happy tummy. Well, and perhaps some of the wonderful chocolate. Oh, and I can't forget the Hawaiian pizza! Or the hot dogs, and certainly not the ice cream. Forget the freshman 15; I'm going to gain about 50 pounds.
The wildlife, or lack thereof. Going hiking? Careful, you might get dive-bombed by some arctic terns! Or you might encounter the gravest of threats, a fox hoping for some food scraps! It'll make a lovely break from having to keep an eye out for coy-wolves and bears. The best part of all? No mosquitoes!
The weather. I'm a redhead, and therefore my greatest enemy is the burning sun. Although I live in a foggy, rainy place right now, it's changing for the worse. Over the past several years, our summers have gotten progressively drier and hotter. An Icelandic heatwave is typically about 10 degrees cooler than one here. Iceland may have midnight sun, but that sun is much weaker. And then I get a mostly-dark winter, with plenty of northern lights. So easy on the eyes!
The language. If you know me, you know my love of languages. Icelandic is a favourite of many linguists because of its beauty and complexity. It has barely changed in the last millennium, making a wonderful window into the past. The Icelanders may not have castles or crown jewels to boast of, but they do have their language, and all the works written with it.
The land. Iceland is located over an upwelling on the mid-Atlantic ridge, which makes for a plethora of geological phenomena. With about 130 active volcanic systems, more mountains and cliffs than you can shake a stick at, glaciers galore and even some desert regions (yes, with sand and everything), this is a geologist's paradise. While I may not be a geologist, I certainly do love me some rocks, and Iceland has plenty.

With all that said, I will definitely miss some things here. My friends and family, conveniently microwavable food, buses that run before noon on Sundays (even if they are infrequent), cheap clothing, and the sound of the wind in the trees. Icelanders make up for their lack of trees by putting flags out everywhere. Businesses will have flags with their logos, and many institutions fly the Icelandic flag. At least I'll still be able to tell which direction the wind is blowing, if the sulfur in the air doesn't let me know first.

I'm packing two suitcases, and taking my bicycle with me for transportation. One suitcase for clothes, and another for books, hobby materials (I like to knit and embroider. I never claimed to have exciting hobbies.), and my flute (which has definitely seen better days). I'm going to take my chanter up too, because I have a feeling I might be able to get far enough away from people to practice without them thinking there's a dying cow in the vicinity.

Now that I'm done work, I've got a bit of time on my hands to be able to go on bike rides. I'd like to be trained up enough to be able to do a metric century, but I doubt I'll get there until next year. The longest ride I've done was 24.something kilometres, so I definitely have a ways to go. Today's ride was a loop to the end of shore drive, which I hadn't done before, only 14.4 kilometres. Dad said it would be a nice ride, with a few hills that aren't too bad. I think he may have overestimated my hill-climbing ability, because they were definitely steeper than I can really handle yet (but not as bad as the Mainland Common Trail). I ended up making it up halfway on most of them (4 hills total, with 7 steep-ish climbs) before dismounting to walk. Shifting and braking are growing more comfortable, as is taking a hand off the handlebars to fiddle with something. I'm no longer nervous going over bumps and rocks, and am getting better at keeping an eye on the cars. This was actually my first real solo ride, without Dad giving me tips and pointing out bad spots. Yay, I survived!