[This story originally appeared in the travel section of the Philadelphia Inquirer on Sunday, March 12th, 2006. Click here to view some pictures from Iceland.]
For many years a map was tacked to the back wall of my classroom. Its colors had faded and its edges had lifted, and except for some indecipherable graffiti in the Pacific Ocean, it had been forgotten–until a visiting Icelandic student challenged: “There’s something wrong with this map!”
Sure enough, just to the southeast of Greenland–where Iceland should be–there was nothing but water. So much for maps.
David (pronounced “dah veed”) grew up in Saudarkrokur, Iceland (pop. 2,700), on the northern coast. His home lies at the shoal of a glacier-fed fjord that opens into the Arctic Ocean about 50 miles south of the Arctic Circle.
During David’s year with us, his stories unfurled like a great tapestry in the class I was teaching, and we found them fascinating, his life so different from our big-city American experience. At the end of the year, David invited me to Iceland to stay with his family for the summer. I would mow grass and play soccer for the local club.
My first day in Iceland, David gave me a tour of the town, which took us about 10 minutes. Like most Icelandic towns, Saudarkrokur had one pharmacy, two gas stations, three bars/restaurants/discotheques, at least as many hair salons, five soccer fields–and one well-traveled thoroughfare flanked by houses in primary colors.
After the tour, he took me home and let me rest for a while, but not before I tacked a sheet over the window to keep out the sun, which is painfully bright on a cloudless summer afternoon. Later at soccer practice, the coach called for introductions, made to the best of everyone’s ability (accents on the first syllable): Helgi, Himmi, Steini, David, Gunni, Vidar, Sverrir, Arni, Marri, Gisli, Gretar, Atli, Ingi, Unnar, Viktor, and Siggi (the coach)–men ranging in age from 18 to 35. My teammates for the summer, some would become friends for life.
It was 8 p.m., the start of summer, and I was 2,900 miles from Philadelphia. There was still some snow on the ground. I was beginning to wonder what I had gotten myself into.
Yet for eight consecutive summers, through 2003, I kept going back. The soccer team allowed me to play semi-professionally. I’d stumbled into an opportunity, a surprise niche.
I could keep my day job, live in a foreign country all summer, and immerse myself in a small town where everybody knew my name. Iceland became my cool Eden, a place where you half expect to see a Viking or a god or an outlaw come barreling around the next corner. AÂ place where it was not hard to feel wondrously alive.
[I want to thank David Runarsson, my first Icelandic friend and teammate, as well as the people of Saudarkrokur for making my summer sojourns possible.]
My favorite vacation spot is St. Thomas, but, moreover; I like Water Island, part of the US Virgin Islands. We used to own a house on Water Island, right in the harbor of St. Thomas. We sold it about a year or two ago because we never got down there as much as we wanted to. St. Thomas is a relatively small island, only 13 miles long, with Water Island being only 2-3 miles long. . The weather is also nice down there. There was always a breeze to keep you cool in the sun. Anyway, on Water Island, we owned a big house. We had a golf cart that I was allowed to drive all around the small island which was really fun. The best beach there is Honeymoon Beach. The water is crystal-clear and there is a floating dock about 150 feet from the beach. My brother and I would go out there and dive off of it. Right below the dock lived skates. Skates are stingrays but skates lack the poisonous spine so they are not as deadly. They skates would live in the shade beneath the dock. There were also tropical fish that lived under the dock. They were beautiful colors like red, orange, yellow, and so on. We also used to snorkel at the coral reefs right at Honeymoon Beach. The population of Water Island is only 160 people. The only way to get to Water Island is by boat. Since we didn’t own a boat down there, we had to use the ferry. If we missed it, then we would have to wait another hour or two which got very annoying. It would rain every day, not a pouring rain, just a light shower. There are no gas stations, grocery stores, or hotels on Water Island, only houses. So when we had to get groceries, we had to take them on the ferry, and then the golf cart to the house. Everything down there is very tropical and different than up here in the states. My favorite vacation spot is Water Island, in St. Thomas, USVI.
My favorite vacation location is Amagansett in New York. When I was little, I went with my family to East Hampton, which is the town next to Amagansett, basically every year until I was about 7. I guess we stopped going when my parents got divored, or maybe before then…I don’t really remember. My dad’s second wife’s parents had a house in Amagansett, and we started going the summer I was twelve, and I’ve gone back for about a week every summer since then.
The beach is about a block from the house, which is on a quiet sreet called Ocean Lane (I know, creative.) Last summer while I was running down Marine Boulevard to get in shape for my first season of cross country, my dad and step mom said they thought they had seen Sarah Jessica Parker and her husband and son while they while they were walking down the beach. Obviously ever since then I’ve tried to find SJP, but I still haven’t seen her.
Amagansett is a pretty small town in the dunes on Lond Island. When I go, it’s usually with my dad, Carol, and her sons, Jake and David. They’re 22 and 25, and I get along with them better than I do with my real brother. Summers in Amagansett are some of the only times I see them, other than on holidays, because Jake has been traveling around the world studying Chinese and David is working in New York. We play paddleball on the back and go boogie-boarding. At night we go into East Hampton for dinner and sometimes go to the movies. There is also really good shopping there so I try to get them to go into town as many times as I can, but my dad and Carol would usually rather play tennis.
The atmosphere in Amagansett and East Hampton is really laid back and relaxed, and even in the nicest restaurant, most people never get more dressed up than wearing casual skirts or khakis. The weather is usually perfect in the summer, in the seventies or eighties with some scattered thunderstorms. When I was about three or four, there was a huge hurricane called Hurricane Floyd, and I remember watching beach balls fly across the pool because of the ridiculous wind. My parents and brother remember more about that, but I was too young to really care.
The summer after sixth grade, my friend Andrea came with us and we went to eat lobster at Gosman’s dock and played mini golf after dinner. That is the only sport that beat Andrea in…
The summer after ninth grade, I was in Manhattan visiting my friend Heather, and I was supposed to take the jitney to Amagansett. We decided at the last minute that she was going to come with me, and she randomly just came. She made me talk to her dad on the phone, which was funny because I had never met him and he was crazy.
Last summer when I was there, I tried to set David up with the girl who worked in one of the stores, but we never got around to going back to introduce him to her. My step-cousin John and his ex-girlfriend Carly were also there…they broke up last week because he found out that she smoked when she wasn’t with him. This summer I will probably go for a longer period of time because I’m not going away, and I’m really excited.
Normally, I enjoy the warm whispers of wind that give spring it’s identity; then morphing into summer and each day I would wake up with the radiant sun knowing that I would have a day free of schoolwork, and could go outside and just enjoy the weather. However, when my best friend Ryan invited me to his mountain house, I hadn’t the slightest idea the memories it would stack in my brain.
After Ryan had asked me, he reminded me that we had a 5-day weekend, so we would have plenty of time there. As he began describing me what the house was like, it seemed like an auspicious alternative so my inveterate shore trips.
I perked my ears when he said it was cabin-like, and was tucked away by a myriad of tall trees, and the roof of the house was sprinkled with snow. I was diligent when I packed–making sure I had my mini basketball hoop, which would hang on a door (and for the car ride up on the front seat so we could practice),would end up being a novel activity during our future mountain house trips.
I first approached the house on a wide road, with nothing in sight except pine trees to my left, and a frozen lake to my right; which eventually brought out my obdurate behaviour, because I had always wanted to follow the deer footprints which led to the center of the lake. But then a sudden left turn jolted me, and I was welcomed by three tall windows, topped off by a circular window that I later found out was the source of the brilliant view the loft had to offer. I couldn’t have been more excited.
I got my bag and the hoop, helped carry in groceries, and then marveled at the bar-like basement I now stood in. There was an old 80’s style T.V., but there a cool dark green lamp overshadowing a pool table. And to my right I saw the bar counter top, where my friend and I practiced our business skills. But, under the glass countertop, I noticed antiquated bills and coins of different countries. And believe me, my friend and I tried our hardest to pry out the money. We were in a quandary for years about how to get the neat-looking moneys out.
The basement was accompanied by two rooms and a bathroom, but I was too excited to notice as I went up stairs. On the second floor I had the chance to peer out of the celing high windows, which provided a profound view of the lake–the giant living room proved to be a plausible basketball court for the hundreds of games I’d play. The living room was carpeted, but in the back there was a tiled kitchen floor, which had an out-jutting countertop with the coolest, most fascinating bar stools . . . which we were pleased to see faced the T.V. and windows. And lastly we made our way around the corner to find a set of stairs leading to the “kid’s place,” or the ultimate playing zone.
The loft will be, and always will be the best place I’ve ever been. From what I can remember it was about 25 steps high, but was around 15 feet wide, and 25 feet deep, maybe more. The only annoyance was the corned ceiling, which peaked at the top, but slowly desceneded on either side.
Just enough room from the ceiling was left to semi-stand next to the two coaches we never slept in. We’d always line the carpeted floor with pillows, because it made an awsome playing area for hand soccer.
Besides playing physical games, we also played NBA ‘98 all night, trying to get our favorite, Gary Payton, to score 200 points in a regulation game. We came close, getting him to score 156 points (with 85 at the half). This mollified our souls–we were so calm, and barely noticed as the hours passed, focusing on our hands swiftly pressing the right buttons. It was really cool to watch someone score that many point . . . and that was truly a unique activity for us. We’d make the loft as comfy as possible and then make a secret plan to go downstairs and get food. We drew everything up, making playing all the more fun. It was a covert act that we looked foward to all day.
The T.V. was in the back of the loft, so it was almost hidden, but at the front it there was a knee-high wall which we could peer over to see the T.V. or just peer out into the night. The night aroused mystery in us, for we feared bears and the denizens of the trees. But late in the morning we’d fall asleep, and wake up, see the sun shining onto the living room floor through the windows. With branches of trees impedeing into the frame, making the image more beautiful.
We then got up and went to my favorite meal: breakfast. It was always filled with the best food, and kickstarted my excitement for the rest of the day.
I haven’t been back there in a long time, and probably never will see it again because the house has been sold. This wasn’t the prosaic vacation I expected; when I grow up, and have enough money, I will definitely seek to buy the house, or rent it out sometime, in order to re-live the transitory time I had, for as long as I like.
My ideal place to go on vacation is some place warm, but my actual favorite place, or the place I go to the most is up to the Poconos. We have had a house in the poconos for over twenty years. We used to go up there a lot more so we could go skiing, but we don’t go up as much anymore. It is just a time to hang out with my family. When I am there I hate it, but it actually is a lot of fun. It’s hard to explain my feelings about the Poconos. It is a lot better in the winter than in the summer. I love skiing. In the summer the lake in our development is gross and there is nothing to do. We go shopping at the outlets and go to Knobles which is an amusement park. My only friend who may ever be there is Caroline Snite. When we were younger my sister and I used to bring friends up with us, but now it isn’t so much fun up there so no one wants to come. My family is always on the go and we are never all together; going to the Poconos together lets us have time together as a family. It gives us a time to relax. It is a good feeling just to be able to sit back and watch T.V. and crochet and not have to worry about anything. You can wake up whenever and it will be ok. Everyone is relaxed and in good moods. I don’t really know what else to say about it. I have to many mixed feelings about my little red cabin up there I don’t know how to express them.
My favorite vacation spot is London. My Father, Mother, Sister, and I would go to London once a year. We did this from the year I was born, until I was maybe 12 or 13. My dad often says that London is his favorite place in the world. He loves everything about it. I remember going to London and visiting such places as Sega world, and the wax mueseum.
Sega world is (from what I remember) this huge indoor interactive themepark. I loved it, so did my dad. My sister hated the place, though. She was always afraid to go. Sega World also had a movie theater. I remember I saw the movie “Mars Attacks” there. I forget how old I was but I remember My dad had to lie about my age because you had to be 13 there inorder to get into a rated-R movie.
The wax mueseum was always fun. The place was full of life size wax figures of famous people. They always looked so real. In the basement there was the “London Dungeon”. I remember it being scary, but it probably wasn’t actually scary at all. The dungeon was full of old torture devices and people in costumes jumping out to try and frighten you. It was a good time.
I remember loving the taxi rides. The taxi’s there were always really nice and the seats in the back faced eachother. I always loved this. My dad loved staying at the Four Seasons. I remember him knowing certian people who worked there and seeing them every year we went.
When we were really little, my mom and dad would take my sister and I and we would go on carridge rides. I remember going there one year over Easter and waking up that morning to stuffed animal bunnies and easter eggs hidden around the hotel room.
London was always something to look forward to during the year. We don’t go that much as a family anymore because my mother, sister, and I have become more partial to warm weather/island vacation spots. My dad still loves London, though. He goes back often.
I used to go to Canada every year. I would stay in the Rocky Mountains, two hours away from Calgary. My family and I would always rent a cabin at a small resort called Baker Creek. We went there for a total of eight years and spent a month hiking and fishing in the mountains. I remember the paths we used to travel because we hiked them for so many years. What made that place really special though was the rail road line that went past the resort. Every night at about eleven o’clock a giant 110 car train would go speeding by our cabin. It wasn’t much of an annoyance, and I actually liked it. I would walk along the rails looking for things. I would sometimes find barrels of train spikes lying along the side of the track. I constructed giant towers out of them (giant at the time), and would pick up all kinds of railroad related things. When trains would come by, I would leave coins on the tracks and wave to the conductor. They would wave back and usually blasted the horn a couple of times as they flew by.
I also remember the creek that went by, Baker Creek. I started building a dam across the creek the first year I went there. Seven years later, and I had redirected the creek a full twenty feet. The creek emptied into the deep blue Bow River and about every week I saw canoes shooting the rapids. The Bow was a perfect river to run. It was very deep and had few rocks in it.
Finally I remember the Baker Creek Bistro that we ate at for the entire four weeks. We got to know the owner so well that he would sit at our table and eat with us. He became one of our best friends out there, and even after the bistro closed we would still go out to see him. I have good memories from up there.
You could travel the whole world, and never find a place quite like the beaches of New Jersey. Although I am not entirely sure what it is about the Jersey shore that sets it apart from other travel destinations. Maybe it is the boardwalks? Or maybe it is the mysteriously dark water? I’m just not sure.
Every single summer since I was born 17 years ago my family has gone to Avalon, New Jersey. We go with my aunts, uncles, and cousins from my mom’s side of the family. We are a very tight-knit group, and i think the fact that it brings us all be together is what makes Avalon special for me.
On one side of Avalon there is an ocean, and on the other side there is a bay. The ocean is basically for swimming, and the bay is more for watersports.
My family plays a lot of sports when we are at the beach, and there may be nothing better in the world than jumping in the ocean at around five o’clock after playing basketball.
Another great thing about Avalon is that it is pretty small. Basically everything is a bike ride away. When I was younger my counsins and I would set out on our bikes every night and go mini golfing, or to the arcade, or just cause trouble somewhere.
Going to the beach is a tradition that I plan to carry with me into adulthood, and I will always have fond memories of my time spent at the Jersey shore.
My favorite place is Sun Valley, Idaho. My grandparents went to Sun Valley on their honeymoon in 1947 and my family has been going back ever since. For the past seventeen years, my family and I have gone to Sun Valley for winter break. We share a small log cabin nestled deep within the Sawtooth National Forest with my aunt, uncle, and cousins. When I say small log cabin, I’m not sure you understand how small of cabin it actually is. Eight of us live in it; but when my parents bought our house twenty years ago, it was only intended for my mom, dad, aunt and uncle. After my cousin Molly and I were born, our parents had to convert the laundry room (which is around the size of a small walk-in closet) into a third bedroom, not knowing that two more children were on the way. So, the four of us, me and my cousins, Molly, Emily, and Talli, have been sharing the laundry room for the past seventeen years.
Although at times the screaming and fighting of four teenaged girls can be unbearable, cramming into 105 Boiler Lane is what I most look forward to every year. I love how our house is tucked beneath gargantuan pine trees and how it always smells of Christmas: pine needles and cinnamon cookies. I love how every year, we go to the Ranger Station to get a permit to cut down our Christmas tree. I love hearing the howls of coyotes echoing through the valley and up towards the big starry sky (although it petrifies me to death). Most of all, I love the stories. There’s never a dull moment in our clan; whether it is a grizzly bear that decided to go for a swim in our Jacuzzi, a fox walking into our living room, or being faced by wolves while cutting down our Christmas tree, we always leave with countless stories to tell. I could go on and on; but the bottom line is that I love everything about Sun Valley. There is nothing that I anticipate more than getting on that grueling flight on December 18 to reach the land of snow and skis: my favorite place, Sun Valley, Idaho.
My Favorite vacation I have ever taken was a two and a half week homestay in France. My roomates were Marisa and Erika, and they were the bets possible people I could have roomed with. We also had a German girl in the house, along with three swedish boys. Every morning we went to class, tired from the festivities of the evening before, and then do some sort of acitivty in the afternoon. One day we went hiking in the Pyrnees mountains, which was gorgeous. We also went rafting on a river along the border of France and Spain, and my crew in the rafty was really funny.
My favorite part of the whole trip was le casetas, it was when every single bar lined up along the mountain and we had dance parties there every night for three nights. The kids we met from other people on the trip were also amazing and I stayed in contact with some of them. We basically walked everywhere so by the end of the day everyone was really beat. Our house only had one bathroom and eleven people living in it, so that was one memorable thing.
Every single kid got the same exact lunch everyday: a baguette with either cheese and butter or saucisson and butter, a tupperware container with chips, and an apple. This was so dissapointing because we were expecting delicious French cuisine.
The town we went to was called Biarritz and it is a small city in the south west of France, almost reaching the border of Spain. It is known as the surfing capital of the world, so everyone tried it out one or twice. The scenery was beautiful because there were cliffs, beaches, huge rock islands in the water, and really nice sunsets.
Marissa plays guitar and every day Erika would make her play songs on it, and we made a song for the trip. The Swedish boys that lived with us were very metrosexual, which gave us a lot to joke about. They had tanning body wash in the shower, they wore tight designer clothing, jelled their hair, and put concealer on their pimples before they went out. We were always bitter because they always got away with coming home past curfew and we never did.
Lovin’ the picture of Rakel :)
Funny reading this as I’m actually in the US, Santa Clara attending a Software Developing Convention. I’m trying to enjoy all the things I did while I was in Philly – which is a time I will cherish forever. No, they don’t have any chees-steak here, nor do I get the chance to hang out with you (especially now when I’m 25 and can actually enjoy the leisure of life in the US). Still a lot of great memories resurface, and my greetings go to you and all the people I met in Philly.
I’ll be in Boston next weekend… so if you’re driving by, email me buddy.
ps
You didn’t mentioned the glacier trip, and getting late to the Verslunarmannahelgi’s dance in Miðgarður.
You call Iceland a cool Eden. What a contradiction! My edenic spot is the Negril beach in Jamaica. Warm sand and water, dress code Casual. Everything to stuff the hole in my face just a finger snap away. Gurls walking by half undressed. A bagful of books, I supinely watch soccer players.
My perennial spot is Vetnor Beach, NJ. I vivdly remember the days during the summer where my mother would take off from work and make sandwiches and pack drinks for the trip. My sister and I, excited as can be, would wake up early (around 6:30) and eat breakfast. We would hit the road at around 7:30. On the road, I would usually read a summer reading book that I had to read, as there is not much to do anyway. My sister usually falls asleep. When we get there, we set up the towel and just chill. I would always anticipate this trip. Not only did I get to go to the beach, but I got to play tennisand basketball, as there was were courts within walking distance of the beach. I played with anyone that was there. I remember one year I played tennis with a 60- something-year-old guy. He taught me things I didn’t know. I guess he had some experience. Another great memory was when I walked down the boardwalk (Vetnor is adjacent to Altlantic City) to Steel Pier. I was 11 and my sister was 8. I convinced her to go on a ride called “The Crazy Mouse”. My sister was scaredout of her mind. It was funny. Every year we make a memory like that. I can’t wait to go back this summer!
My favorite vacation spot is in St. Croix, USVI (US Virgin Islands). I love it in St. Croix because it’s warm and it’s so beautiful and refreshing there. My family and I have been going for plenty of years now, and it’s nice since my dad (during the first few years of vacationing there) decided to buy a time-share at one of the hotels there for about 2 weeks each year.
St. Croix is also very nice, since the hotel we visit is mostly secluded. The hotel is on a little island of it’s own, so you have to take a ferry in order to get to it. I also love St. Croix because of the food, but mostly because of the culture. Every year, I get to learn more about St. Croix’s history and more about Maco Jumbie (a spritual ghost whom the people of St. Croix believe in), which is always fun.
Hello my good friend
Really enjoyed reading this blog and especially the piece about your river rafting adventure.
We miss you here in Iceland and hope you show your pretty face around here soon ;)
Lets stay in touch and thanks for everything…
Best wishes
Davíð Þór Rúnarsson