Last year we undertook an ambitious travel schedule covering 4 Scandinavian countries including Iceland.
We arrived in Reykavik on a weekend when they were holding their annual Marathon and Culture Night.
It was a street party like I’ve never experienced before …. people packing the streets throughout the downtown area, live bands and DJs, food vendors, and a contagious party atmosphere that permeated everywhere. Even in the homes we passed, loud and rowdy parties were in full swing.
Coming from straight-laced Toronto, it was a novelty to see people with open liquor in the streets.
The following morning was a picture of contrasts compared to the night before … deserted streets and garbage everywhere. City crews worked swiftly to clean the streets before they became bustling with crowds again by noon.
It was late August, but the temperatures felt more like early October. I’ve travelled through many places in the world, but here in Iceland I truly felt like a stranger in a strange land.
Maybe it was the hopscotching through 3 countries before we got there. I had expected to find Iceland similar to her cousins – Denmark, Norway, and Sweden. I was wrong. If her cousins could be described as elegant ladies, Iceland was the rough-and-tumble tomboy prepared to drink you under the table.
… or perhaps it just felt that way on Reykjavik Culture Night.