If someone in the UK asks me where to go on holiday (that’s not too far), I say Iceland. Every time. Preferably in winter. In December 2007, I’d never been so cold in my life but I didn’t care. Because it’s an other-worldly country at an other-worldly time of year, when the sun rises at 11.30am and sets at 3.30pm.
You can stand in the rift between the North American and Eurasian tectonic plates, stand feet away from erupting boiling geysers, tour glaciers, volcanic craters and the most powerful waterfalls in Europe, swim in steaming geothermal power plant run-off amid black lava fields AND see the astounding Northern Lights. Reykjavik is also ToyTown cute. I could go on. You can get some kind of idea about it from the photos below.
I have an old friend to thank for introducing me to Iceland – he’d always wanted to go and I arranged the trip as a special birthday surprise. Now we’re no longer friends, which sucks, but we will always have standing on top of the world watching the Aurora Borealis weaving mintily over our heads, and that’s not a bad thing to have when all is said and done.