ICELAND

I've used to be interested in islands since my research project in 2003. Clearly, I didn't exhaust the topic then, and I still believe plenty of literary research may be done on its peculiar symbolical configurations. In nearly all cases, their heyday was very early: islands, as the safest locations, had been the centers of culture in early Middle Ages, before the advances in navigation put an end on their safety. In modern times, islands became peripheral, depressive spaces, and this also may give fascinating results in literary terms. This is the case of Majorca, of Sicily, and also the case of Iceland, that lived its most interesting times at the age of the sagas. In this trip, I was expecting to meet this early culture, as well as unspoiled nature and absolute peace, which was actually the case. Unexpected encounter with contemporary Icelandic art and literature was a bonus added to this.
Technically, this trip was organized - and financed - by my husband, a great admirer of northern locations in general. In Reykjavik, we rented a car to drive mostly on the road nr 1 (the yellow strip you can see on the map, in reality a very modestly sized road circling all the island and passing, sometimes on a single track, through several tunnels). We visited most of the western part of the Iceland, arriving till Akureyri and the Goðafoss waterfall. In Akureyri, I was surprised by the richness of the local botanic garden. So far in the north, it was much more than a collection of lichens that I expected. Back southwards, we jumped to the minuscule Vestmannaeyjar islands with their still active volcano.