SWITZERLAND
Iceland: Mystical, magical, pure
JOHN SWITZER Why would a Canadian writer,
after suffering a long Canadian winter, want a tour of Iceland? The “correct” answer is: to
attend the Icelandic Writers’ Retreat. But the real answer is: “Why
not? I’ve never been there; what will I see?” The fun started at the airport. I
was going from Ottawa to Boston, Boston to Reykjavik – a 13-hour excursion. The engines of the turbo prop
“bug basher” first sped up… and then stopped. (Sound from an adjacent passenger: “OH-OH!”) We waited for the technician;
then the announcement; and then we were back in line with Air Canada. There I met the miraculous
Mary Ann, who valiantly fought the computers for a good 20 minutes before sending me off again. I was routed back to Toronto, over to London (Heathrow) and finally to Reykjavik. This made it a mere 29-hour jaunt (arriving 10 minutes late for the first reception). The first thing I discovered
was that Icelanders all speak a complicated language that a ninth- century Viking would understand, and perfect English. Iceland is about twice the size
of P.E.I. and has a population of only 320,000. There is no crime to speak of. The police carry no guns. There’s no tipping. There are no trees; no snakes; no mosquitoes. It is the most sparsely
populated country in Europe, 20 BOUNDER MAGAZINE
with the most intriguing scenery anywhere. The country is totally clean; not just the air (no industries; ergo, no pollution) or lack of litter. Everything feels clean and fresh, from the snow- covered mountains to the glacier- fed salmon rivers. In short, Iceland is a great
place for a Canadian. The road into Reykjavik is
typical: good asphalt (no finish/ top coat) and appropriately- sized for the less excessive European vehicles. The roads have no shoulders, no passing lanes, no police cruisers; and gas costs approximately $2.45 a litre. Icelandic drivers are courteous, occasionally don’t bother to signal, are creative in their parking abilities – and, most noticeably, are absent in any numbers. The landscape is black molten
rock beaches; old moss and grass- covered lava fields with snow- streaked black mountains; and volcanoes off in the distance, with steam vents appearing here and there. Iceland, in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, is often cloudy but surprisingly warm (5 to 15 degrees C. in April). It’s the lack of trees and bush
that kept throwing me off. In Canada the trees hide and obscure the horizon; but there, the exposed landscape calls out to you, like Baffin Island without the severe cold. Reykjavik (“cloudy bay”) is
the largest centre; it is prosperous,
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