Iceland is right at the tip of the world, the part that the golden handle usually pierces through on your spinning globe. This Nordic Island country is considered to be the last place on earth settled by humans – and when you travel its expanses, you can kind of feel that.

Seeing as we were living in Dublin, the shortest flight distance to Reykjavik, it was definitely a trip we knew we wanted to take. Hopping on board the 2-hour flight with W.O.W. Airlines and with all the warm clothes we could fit, we had planned to hire a car and drive (as always) away from the crowds and see what we could find. 

And what we found was breathtaking.

For a country that is only just bigger than Ireland and 75 times smaller than Australia, it felt expansive and humbling. So much of the roads around the country is totally flat but bordered by wild seas and mountain ridges, glaciers and volcanoes. You feel at the mercy of the elements and the amount of daylight you can squeeze out of the days in the colder months. On the other hand, we were told by locals that the summer days can feel almost never-ending. They have parties to celebrate the midnight sun in summer. That’s something I would love to see.

 We stayed in little cottages that littered the countryside, often surrounded by Icelandic horses, the only breed of horses to be found in Iceland. At times, we would pull over to pet them and they would behave more like puppies than their much larger reality. Their long manes and fuzzy coats make them look ready for a Viking adventure at any moment, but their nuzzling makes them seem ready to be let inside your room to stay warm. The cottages themselves were welcoming and rustic, dotted in paddocks without trees. Icelandic weather doesn’t lend itself to tall plants so it’s a country without forests. Ev and I would stand outside in the late afternoon and watch the sun go down across an uninterrupted skyline, close to the artic circle.

We had a few key things we wanted to see while we were there, other than just getting a sense of a country neither of us had ever been to before.

The first of these was naturally the hot springs. Being able to be in the water all year round is an enormous plus to people like us and we took ourselves off to the closest natural springs we could find in the capital city. Whilst there is much to be said for engaging in the tourism side of these cultural draw cards, we wanted to head where the locals go. That’s how I found myself in a Scandinavian cement style bathroom surrounded by naked Icelandic women.

When we arrive, we see people swimming in the waters just beyond the spring. We are told that the locals go between the hot spring and the ocean all year round. The women are wearing beanies, gloves and bikinis and are swimming at such a leisurely pace, I must be forgiven for presuming the water was a cool but not freezing temperature. I am quickly corrected – the water is a maximum of 4 degrees at this time of year.

Before heading into the hot springs, one must bathe and wash off any oils or perfumes you might be bringing with you into the natural phenomenon. Standing awkwardly clothed in the change room, I immediately understand more about the Icelandic people than I could have ever read in a book. The women are chatting, catching up, organising dinner dates and getting children dressed. All completely naked. They are sturdy and hearty looking women. For one of those rare moments in my life, I am made to feel short. They look like Viking women. Strong, powerful, beautiful, brimming with health and no-nonsense. 

I meet Ev after my shower and with my bikini on, we head for the hot spring.  It’s bubbling warm and we find a little spot to slot ourselves in amongst the crowd. We get to enjoy that delicious feeling when the air outside is piercingly cold, but the water is bath-warm. Looking out over the landscape surrounding us, we already feel miles away from anywhere we’ve ever been.

After a while of repeated water displacement with people hopping between hot and cold, Ev decides he is going to partake in the icy part. He bravely steps out of the warmth and strolls the 150m of stone beach to the ocean’s edge. Needless to say, his brief encounter with the water is the first and only time I’ve ever seen him look like he was genuinely about to have a heart attack. He plunges himself back into the hot spring next to me and when I ask him how he feels, he turns to me and quite simply states, ‘That would have killed you’. At this, I pass on the experience, but the hot springs pepper our time in Iceland. We hike to the hidden spring spots throughout our trip and you really feel like you’ve hit the jackpot when you find one that’s juuuust right.

  Of course, it’s not a winter’s trip to Iceland without trying to spot the aurora borealis. I’m hesitant to write too much about this because it’s like writing about seeing fairies or coming across a troll under a bridge. It held such mystery and chance that I don’t know if I could properly explain what we saw. It is a natural phenomenon I hope everyone gets the chance to see if they should want to. 

It was 1:00am and minus temperatures when we saw the sky dance. It was most definitely the coldest I have ever been in my life but somehow ,for those brief few seconds that I saw the whole sky light up in a way that feels science-fiction, I would have stood there in my underwear to see it. What they don’t tell you in most tourism brochures is that you travel out all night to find them, driving all across the country, with a professional Light Chaser. These experts chase the northern lights all winter and follow their patterns, always making sure you know there is no guarantee. 

I think I gasped when I saw them. And held Ev’s hand. It felt like mother nature was showing off. And if she was, she’s got me impressed. It was one of the most awe-inspiring things I’ve ever seen. And then it’s gone. A matter of seconds. A spectacular few moments and then, it’s over. Like life, I guess huh?

 Iceland is full of landscapes that make you feel tiny. We stood atop glaciers covered in icicles and snow in a way that made them look like someone had blown icing sugar all across the mountain tops. We stood at Diamond beach where the broken off parts of glacier legitimately look like massive gemstones. It’s easy to understand why it’s called the Land of Fire and Ice. We saw geysers from prehistoric times shoot boiling water a hundred metres into the air and sunsets that looked like the sky was ablaze. Everything about the country reminded us that nature is the game, we are simply the players.

By the time our trip came to an end, I think we both understood why roughly one in ten Icelanders will publish a book. The country is the definition of inspiring. In that, I can only agree with author Stephen Markley. He said, “The problem with driving around Iceland is that you’re basically confronted by a new soul-enriching, breath-taking, life-affirming natural sight every five goddamn minutes. It’s totally exhausting.”

When we got home, I think we slept for 15 hours.

And then packed our bags for L.A.