Gabe's Blog

 Whenever anyone visited during my time in Iceland, a '90s hit from TLC inevitably came up. Everyone made their own jokes about how Iceland was where you SHOULD go chasing waterfalls, but they were really onto something. With nearly 10,000 being fed from glaciers in the Highlands, they are an essential part of the Icelandic scenery      When looking for the famous waterfalls in the country, visitors are fortunate that many of the largest and most stunning waterfalls are just off of the "Ring Road", the only highway that takes a path around the island. While it takes at least a week-long journey, the route provides a nearly full experience of Icelandic nature.  Seljandsfoss and Skógafoss are likely the most famous, located about 120km East of Reykjavík, providing easy access for day trips from the city for tourists. Both drop nearly 60 meters and provide powerful views in their own way. Seljandsfoss (Left) offers a rare opportunity to walk fully around the waterfall, with

 Like most places in the world, food in Iceland is shaped by the landscape and what is most readily available. Different from the majority of places, extreme isolation, and a wintry climate have hindered availability and import opportunities. Under these inhospitable conditions, Icelanders have gotten creative. Whether it's traditional cuisine like Hákarl, fermented shark meat, or the booming greenhouse business within the country, they have crafted a combination of traditional tastes with international imports. I was lucky enough to try a number of these foods and would like to share my experience and advice for your Icelandic adventure. Looking at the traditional flavors of Iceland, it is important to consider how geography and history played a role in the development of flavors and processes. Iceland sits isolated in the Atlantic Ocean on the Arctic Circle, as a rugged grassland filled with cliffs and highlands. This not only limited trade with the outside world but also restric

 Throughout my 86 days in Iceland, I was able to meet countless new people from so many places that I could not keep track. Whether it was in Isafjor ð ur on business or in the bars of Reykjavík, I seemed to meet friendly people wherever I went. I surely won't be able to do them all justice, so I hope the few close friends I made will suffice.     I lived in a house split into seven separate rooms for nine people, luckily this summer we only had five. Sam had been there the longest out of any of us, a Brit who has been in Iceland for just over three years to finish her master's and continue in museum work. Lance had flown in from France for the summer to complete an art in business internship with a local studio and restaurant, while Aga came from Leipzig, Germany to work as a tailor at the locally prestigious Yeoman studio on Laugavegur. These were the closest people I had while I was in Iceland, as we spent pretty much every spare moment together. Our weekends seemed to be a

 This summer, I lived with a group of other foreign nationals, which led to some of the fondest memories I have created in my life. One that stands out to me the most is the excitement surrounding the potential of a new volcano opening up. As earthquakes became more and more frequent, it seemed the entire nation was on the edge of its seats waiting to see a new natural wonder bubble to life, and after nearly a week of waiting it finally did.  As we all got home from our jobs, it was a race down to the coast nearest our house. We all met up there, spending hours running the possibilities through our heads while watching the smoke billow in the sky. Would we be able to go to it? What impact would it have on daily life in Reykjavik? Would we be able to fly home at the end of our summer? Through all of this, the predominant question was when, which I loosely responded to with "Where there's smoke...". Lance, who I'll introduce you to in another chapter, finished the phras