Mt Esja seen over the water from Reyjkavik
In July 2009, I spent a wonderful week in Iceland, staying in the capital city of Reyjkavik but also getting out to see the amazing countryside. It wasn’t long before I was planning in my head to go on another trip there of at least two weeks, to maybe go to Iceland every year, exploring a different part of the country every year. But it didn’t happen. In fact, the next year, 2010, would mark my last time every visiting another country, going on a trip to Oslo, and it is at the time of writing, 14 years since I’ve ever been outside Ireland. So what happened? Well first, let’s get into the details of the trip.
There was no direct flight from Cork, or even Dublin, so I had to go via Heathrow. It is such a giant airport that that aspect had my frightened, but I got lucky because my flight from Cork and the flight to Reyjkavik were both from Terminal 1. So that was good fortune, because on my top ten list of “Things I don’t want to ever happen, not even once” getting lost in Heathrow is near the top of the list.
I was fairly lucky with the wait time in Heathrow also. I think it was only about four hours. The previous year I had something like a six hour wait for a flight to Budapest in Dublin airport.
At the time I was working in a factory, and it was one of the most miserable experiences of my life. My life was completely lacking in anything that could be called direction and there was a fairly significant problem of bullying there, and also some of the most bigoted people I have ever met worked in that factory. So, around 2006, I came down with the travel bug. I wanted to see the world. I wanted to get away, because my life in Ireland at the time was anything but pleasant. But it would take me a year or more to put any travelling plans into practice, because the whole prospect of travelling did make me nervous, you were putting yourself in a situation where one hundred and ten things could go wrong. But in October 2007, at the age of either 21 or 22 (my birthday’s in October and I don’t remember the exact dates of travel). I went to Berlin. And it was great. For somebody who had never travelled before, this might as well have been travelling to the other side of the world. And a month later, I went to Munich, completely on my own. All but two of my trips abroad would be on my own. While I am and always have been a very social person, depending on the context of the situation, I have always been a much more solitary person when it comes to doing activities I am passionate about, and travelling to other countries was something I was passionate about. I have always found it difficult, if not impossible, to find other people who want to do stuff that I’m interested in doing, so in the end it just tends to become, “Fuck it, I’ll do it myself.”
So 2007 had two trip to Germany. 2008 had four trips abroad total. 2009, the year of going to Iceland had 3. And 2010, the last one ever.
From the plane to Iceland, I saw what I am ninety percent sure was the Faroe Islands. The Faroe Islands had my imagination captivated almost as much as Iceland did, and when I got back it became one of the places I planned to visit but never did.
The plane landing was a strange experience. Euphoria and terror all rolled in to one. Euterria? Terrphoria? Euphoror? Why not vote for the best one in the comment section, if your vote is in before midnight tonight you will receive, nothing.
So it was terrorish because the plane was shuddering and buckling possibly more than any plane I’d ever been on before. I thought this had something to do with difficulties involved in landing in Iceland specifically, but it was the same landing in Heathrow on the way back, so I dunno. But it was euphoriaish because I was looking at one of the most amazing landscapes I had ever seen. Miles and miles of volcanic rock. Wow. I was grateful for the fact that I was on that jumping and jittering plane while under the influence of Xanax. I had begun to develop a bad fear of flying the previous year, so Xanax offered some temporary relief from the fear of flying. Temporary, because the flying wasn’t the real problem. I mean, yes, I think on an emotional level, and possibly on an intellectual level, I think flying is kind of terrifying. I understand and don’t dispute the statistics of how you are less likely to be killed flying compared to well, pretty much anything. But I think there’s this strong feeling that bad weather at any time could just say, “Fuck that plane, I want to kill it,” and there isn’t much you can do about it. If you were in a bus and the weather started getting bad, maybe pull into the side of the road, maybe leave the bus and find somewhere more sheltered, but the plane cannot simply stop, or you cannot simply leave the plane, when things go wrong. I mean you could, but it would be fairly self defeating. So yes, I sort of can see how planes are scary to me, but funnily enough, that first trip to Berlin, I wasn’t scared of flying at all. This was something that took time to develop. And I think it was related to other fears I have about travelling.
So I landed in Keflavik airport, got a taxi into Reyjkavik and got set up in the hotel I had booked there. I was in love with the city already, such beautiful buildings, it is one of those cities that manages to balance a sense of urbanness with a sense of ruralness, and, as the the photo at the top shows, it has some of the most wonderful views of the ocean and the mountains. It was so peaceful! So I was never happier. But also never more panicked. I had this completely irrational fear that I would run out of money before the trip was over. This was based on absolutely nothing. Because with the fear of flying, and the fear of money in this case, my brain was still grappling with what the real problem was. But when I was able to put this fear about money out of my head, it really was an amazing time. I have visited nine countries in my quite brief attempt to see as much of the world as possible, and Iceland remains my favourite.
The Lough, Iceland Version
Another View Of The Iceland Lough
Iceland is sadly more deforested than Ireland, so these trees can be a nice thing to see.
Most of the time, when I visited another country, I would end up seeing very little outside of the city where the airport was in or nearest to, because I think the act of getting there took so much out of me that I had very little energy for seeing anything beyond what was local. And my first trip alone, to Munich, involved me getting stuck in the town of Dachau, in the Winter during the night, for a few hours. I didn’t understand the train system and I couldn’t find a taxi for a while. So I was just wondering around the town, hoping to find somebody who could help me. I got back to my hotel alright, but this left me with a very strong fear of going more than walking distance from my hotel. But, I decided, I had to get that fear under control, because if you don’t see what’s outside Reykjavik, you are missing out on quite a lot.
So I booked a tour on the evening Golden Circle Tour. And my goodness, when even the bus ride to your destination is worth mentioning, you know it was a great trip!
Mountains in the countryside, I wish the bus windows didn’t keep acting as a mirror! I don’t want a bus seat in my pictures of the mountains!
The best bus trip I have ever been on!
More glorious mountain scenery!
Part of what I was hoping to find with my trip abroad was that feeling when you are so far from a city, or even a village, that it feels like you have entered another world. Where the quiet and the tranquility, and the scenery, seem to create such an amazing feeling of joy. I have a fascination with countries with a very low population density. Where as soon as you leave the city, it’s like everything suddenly changes, the landscape around you just makes you feel alive. Of course, at the time, I was surprisingly uneducated about what my own country has to offer, so I didn’t realize you could find places like this in Ireland. But, at the time, this was my first time that I could remember of experiencing what I was looking for, the silence and the sights of a proper countryside.
Þingvellir National Park. The shadows were disobedient and photo bombed I’m afraid.
The first stop on the trip was Þingvellir National Park. This was the site of the original Alþingi, which was founded in the year 930, making it one of the oldest parliaments in the world. It is also a rift valley, where the North American and Eurasian plates pull apart from each other. So in a political sense I have never been to America, but in a geographical sense I have! That’s my logic and I’m sticking to it!
It’s kind of weird and wonderful to think of the fact that, in a sense, Þingvellir is a scene of utter chaos, as the two giant plates beneath your feet try to pull apart from each other. And yet, it contains some of the most amazing scenery I have ever had the pleasure to witness, like the following:
I doubt I have done enough good deeds in my life to deserve to see this
Paradise. Someone invent teleportation so I can go back.
Where Europe and America meet (in a geographical sense).
Looking Down
The Violence Of the Plates Ripping Apart Produces, Eh, A Lovely Place To Go For A Walk
Spending a few hours here would have been well worth it. But I had more of this amazing country to see, and only a week to do it, so back on the bus I went.
Attention Australia, you have left one of your UNESCO World Heritage sites in Iceland, please collect it as soon as possible, thank you.
We stopped at the Gullfoss waterfall, in the battle between spending as much time at the waterfall as possible and attending to my cranky stomach, my stomach won out. I had a delicious soup, but to this day I don’t know what was in it. I’m pretty sure it was a meat soup, so I won’t be having it again since I went vegetarian more than four years ago. I’m grateful for the fact that in my meat eating days I never got it into my head to try octopus, because octopuses are now probably my favourite animals, so I’m happy to say one of these fantastic creatures was never on my dinner plate.
After I had finished eating, I walked quickly to the Gullfoss waterfall. Thanks to my cranky stomach I was running out of time. And, wow!
A Most Extremely Fucking Splendid Site, Sorry For The Bad Language But How Else Would You Describe It?
Perhaps the Gullfoss Waterfall is too good for this planet, and needs to be sent to another one, like one of the Trappists.
Going to Iceland in the Summer as I did has pros and cons. The disadvantage is that you won’t see the Northern Lights. One of the advantages is getting to experience the midnight sun. Technically I was too far south for a true midnight sun, but it was still brightish at midnight, so still cool to witness. But one of the advantages of going in the Summer is getting to experience the full splendor of the Gullfoss Waterfall. There is a ledge, don’t worry, it’s wide enough and fairly safe, that is iced up during the Winter so you can’t go on it, but during the Summer, it is safe, and you are right next to the waterfall, your ears are within inches of its deafening roar, and the Gullfoss rains on top of you. It is beyond magnificent.
On the ledge
Fantastic
The power of the wild waters
Wow, wow, wow, wow. Didn’t know what else to say to be honest.
Another View On My Way Back
Double Waterfall
So, back on the bus, there was just one thing left before the day was done. It would be unforgettable.
Do I See The Glacier In the Distance?
We reached the Geyser Geothermal Area. To put a bit of context to this, this was my first time ever going to a country famed for its volcanoes. But this was a safer way to enjoy and appreciate the violence beneath Iceland’s surface. Some of the geysers were kind of chill, like, whatever, I’ll shoot steam out of the ground in my own good time!
One of the more relaxed geysers.
This one’s relaxed but not as relaxed as the first one.
Wait for it!
But the real rockstar of all these geysers, the one that would have a triple neck guitar if geysers could play guitar, is Strokkur. This is, just, see, for, yourself.
Wait!
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!
But it was getting late in the evening, soon the sun would be, making a very lazy attempt to set, and then would just be like, to hell with this I’m coming back up. On the way back we saw some houses that were almost destroyed by geysers, they missed it by only a few metres.
Seriously geysers, what have you got against houses?
This day was probably the highlight of the trip. The next day I went whale watching, where I didn’t see many whales.
No whales, but worth it for the awesome view of the city from the ocean.
I visited a museum called the Perlan, seeing the outside of it is as fascinating as seeing the inside of it. Here’s that:
The year 10,000 called, they want their building back!
Also, I visited Viðey island, a short boat trip from Reyjkavik. It’s amazing to think that this is a short distance from the capital city:
View Of The City From Paradise
Lovely!
How far away is Cork?
Mount Esja in the Distance
Lake!
Lake Mountain Sea!!!!
So Green!
Same again, except the sunlight is highlighting different parts of the landscape
The last day would be spent at a museum, I wanted to take it easy after all of my adventures. But for the second last day, I wanted to do something special. I asked in the hotel about what kind of mountain trips were possible. It was suggested to me I could go on a glacier trip, and I regret not going, not knowing this would be my first and last trip to Iceland. I also regret not going on a day trip to Greenland for the same reason. But I was acting on the assumption that I would probably be back some day. But, even though I was much younger, I seemed to have an understanding of myself that I wouldn’t fully realize until years later, that I needed to be careful and not do too much, so I opted for something that would be a nice adventure but at the same time wouldn’t be overdoing it. I would visit that which had dominated my view over the ocean since I reached Reykjavik. I would climb Mount Esja!
I got a taxi out and begun the assent. This would be my first time ever going up a mountain, and to date, at 914 metres tall, it is still the highest mountain I have ever climbed. Though climbing would be putting it too strongly. Despite its height, you can basically walk up, and is suitable for people of varying levels of fitness. (Or no fitness, as was the case with me at the time!) A lot of the locals boast about how fast they can get to the top. You ask have you been up Mount Esja, and they might reply, “Yes, in one hour“. I’m much fitter than I was, but that level of fitness still eludes me! So, let the climb, I mean gentle walk, begin!
Please invent teleportation so I can go back!
Getting higher.
Lovely stream on the mountain.
As I explored the mountain, I observed people drinking the water out of the streams. And I wish I had done likewise, to drink some water straight from the mountain would have been such a nice experience. But I live in Ireland, and unfortunately, “Do not drink water from streams and rivers”, is something that is very hardwired into me. I wish I could have let go of this kind of caution just once. Incidentally, of all the countries I have ever visited, Iceland had, by a wide margin, and I mean a wide margin, the most lovely tap water I have ever tasted!
Soon I’ll Be At The Top
My poorly exercised legs survived somehow!
Legs still haven’t given out!
As high as I will get!
I didn’t get any higher than the picture just above. Had to stop with about twenty or so metres to go. Because at that point, you’re out of walking, and into climbing. I made a very brief attempt, but when my left foot started sliding back down, I decided, this will have to do. But I took in some very memorable sights even from this height.
Like this!
I love the distant mountains!
There are patches of snow on the mountains, presumably all year round
So two days after the mountain trip, I got on the plane to Heathrow, and then the plane to Cork. Despite only lasting a week, it was one of the best experiences of my life. But despite it being amazing, it also caused a kind of a crisis. I didn’t see how I was going to spend the remainder of my life without seeing this kind of wondrous scenery on a regular basis. But, places like Iceland you’re talking about two flights. Other places I was interested in seeing were even harder to get to. So there was a conflict, because I had a strong sense for adventure, but also, I was beginning to realize, slowly, very slowly, that I’m an extremely easily stressed person. I’m not the kind of person who can deal easily with the fact that on holidays, things just tend to go wrong. There have been many times on holidays where I’ve been sent into a panic by things that wouldn’t phase other people.
So, all of this came to a head just over a year later. I went on a trip to Oslo, with the intention of going on to Tromso. It was too much. The stress of travelling simply ate me up, and on that trip, I was having severe panic attacks every day. I never made it to Tromso, had to cancel and come home. And that was the last time I ever visited another country.
People say to me why don’t I just sort out my travel anxiety. If you have problems with anxiety, the word you will get sick of hearing, time and time again, is “just”. Do the people who say this really think if I could have done this, I wouldn’t have simply did it? That’s not to say people don’t recover from travel anxiety, but will I ever just do it? As simply as flicking on a lightswitch? No, that will never happen. Perhaps with immense difficulty, maybe. And it’s a big maybe.
I’ve conceded defeat on international travel. Unless there’s some major change, unless I’m bitten by an even bigger travel bug, I think, yeah, it’s sad, but I think I can happily live without it. But there is something else, something I haven’t conceded defeat on yet. I got into going on big cycling adventures, of three days, once even five days. And Covid worsened my travel anxiety, so I haven’t done a multi day cycle trip since before Covid. But I hope to do it again some day. I hope to strike that balance with travel anxiety, acknowledge it’s there, and as a consequence, not take on too much. But I hope I never have to give into it. Because even Ireland, by itself is an amazing place to explore, and my trusty bicycle is the best way to do it!
Ponderings Of An Autist 