It was a strange night. I went to sleep some time around 9:30/10. I awoke and glanced at the window — light was streaming in. My phone said it was 10:47 and I assumed I had severely overslept for the morning’s city tour, the jetlag and compounded sleeplessness having caught up to me. I gathered my toiletries and a fresh set of clothes and rushed into the bathroom, thinking I’d quickly shower and get out the door to try and salvage the day. But something had me double check my phone — surely the time was just wrong. I connected to the hotel’s WiFi and asked google, “What Time Is It In Reykjavik Right Now?” The answer that came back — 10:51 PM — felt wrong. And yet when is the internet ever wrong?
I had been asleep for about an hour and thought the world had completed more of a rotation. I was the anti-Rip Van Winkle.
When morning did finally roll around, a quick breakfast in the basement of the Hotel Center Plaza found the flight attendant recommended/approved oatmeal bars as the top treat. The eggs were… off… and the sausage was weirdly flavored. Still, it was included with the price of the room, so, ya know — I’ll be back tomorrow! Is that a rave? “I’m going back again!” feels like a critical pull quote they could legitimately put on the restaurant’s advert… it would be misleading and out of context but not untrue.
Politics.
***
I had fully intended to go for a run before breakfast but my body just said, “No. No. No.” After breakfast, my body said, “Nap. Nap. Nap.” So a few extra minutes of shuteye stretched into an hour or so before the day really got going.
The City Sightseeing Tour began at 9:45 AM. A large mini-bus, which really was more of a regular bus than anything mini, took us around town. Funnily enough, just before leaving the lobby I ran into Jeff and Scott of MarathonTours who are staying in our hotel and welcoming their clients tomorrow. It was nice to see them… I’m sure though whispers of my interloper status with the Aussies has once again filtered back to the MT mothership. What can I say? I’m not a one-marathon-tour-group kind of guy. I’m a polygamarathoner.
The native City Sightseeing guide, whose name sounded like “Vig-rid,” gave us some brief overviews during the bus tour. For the most part, it was a pretty lame tour — I know Reykjavik is famously compact but the ride around town was all within an imminently walkable distance and the travel time between points A and B was never more than a few minutes.
The highlights of Vigrid’s information dump?
“Reykjavik” means “steaming bay” and was the prominent feature of the landmass when founded in the 800s. It refers to the geothermal activity courtesy of the island sitting on two tectonic plates. Harnessing the geothermal power has been an energy boon and boom for the Icelandic economy. The temperature of the water can be as high as 300+ degrees so they often use the geo-heated water to raise the temperatures of chillier H20 before sending it into domestic and business buildings.
Because of the fault lines, there are over 100 earthquakes every day on Iceland, but just usually low level and imperceptible to humans. I forgot to ask if dogs and animals are prone to responding or if they’ve just gotten used to the experience.
The former debtors prison built in the mid 1700s now houses the Prime Minister. This was told to us without irony and I for one couldn’t help but think of the commentary inherent in a PM living in a debtors’ prison.
Approximately 200,000 people live in the Southwest of Iceland. There are about 330,000 people in all of the country.
Our first stop was at the Pearl, a dome–shaped, glass building designed by Ingimundur Sveinsson. We were told about the revolving restaurant and the observatory deck and so spent time just taking in the panoramic views. Our guide failed to mention various other features of the building which I only discovered later — such as a man-made Geysir water feature that erupts regularly and a Viking Sagas animatronic installation. The latter I wouldn’t have had time to experience on this city tour but I still wish I’d know it existed.
A quick drive-by of the Höfði, gave us a rolling view of the famed house where the 1986 summit occurred between then US President Ronald Reagan and Soviet President Mikhal Gorvachev. That meeting is now viewed as the beginning of the end of the Cold War.
We then stopped at the abstract Viking Ship sculpture on the edge of the bay for a few quick photos.
This was followed by an on-our-own walkthrough of the Harpa Arts Center, a sea glass inspired performing arts center that was really quite lovely. Because of the constant threat of earthquakes and volcanic eruptions, buildings are more squat and somewhat paradoxically employ a great deal of glass. You’d think shakes, rattles, and rolling lava might shatter the glass but perhaps the island nation so rich in geothermal energy isn’t worried about heating bills and prefers any kind of natural light when they can get it. That trumps concerns over shattered glass I suppose.
We then headed over to the Hallgrímskirkja, where Mom and I had walked the day before. A concert was being held inside so we couldn’t get in, something the Tour Guide wasn’t really prepared for. As a result, our group of 32 just sort of ambled around the churchyard square. We snapped a few pics but it was, as I said, a bit lame.
Intriguingly, the church was begun in 1946 and took 40 years to finish due to money troubles. As we were there, a great deal of concrete work was being undertaken to repair the thing… leading to any number of comments that the place wasn’t really done correctly in the first place. We overheard somebody say it was due to frost damage — again, maybe this is something the architects and design team could have foreseen.
Lunch was at Lakjarbrekka. Um, yeah… I grabbed a business card or else I wouldn’t have been able to spell that either. I sat next to Isaac, an Australian boy celebrating his 6th birthday who was dressed as Boba Fett for the day. Here’s a shot of Mom and him at the Harpa:
It was a heavier lunch than I was really prepared for so I asked Mom if we could postpone a museum trip so I could squeeze in a run. She was, per usual, incredibly understanding of my idiosyncrasies and running obsessions. So I suited up, laced up, and headed out the door for a run in Reykjavik.
I wound up running by some of the landmarks we had just city toured, so the morning’s overview was helpful from a navigational point of view.
During one of the bus rides, Isaac’s two-year-old sister kept pointing out the window and saying, “Minion! Minion!” We finally figured out she was pointing at the red and yellow fire hydrants. So I stopped along the run to snap a shot of me Kevin and a pseudo Minion Kevin:
Eventually I found myself back at the Höfði and I decided to snap a few shots since the bus never stopped there. Here’s me with a piece of the fallen Berlin Wall that was donated to the city. The fact that it’s a piece of Germany depicting a Moai from Easter Island in Reykjvaik seemed like some weird confluence of travels and meanings. Call it fate, call it karma, call it coincidence.
I raced back to the hotel and bumped into Mari Mar, Travelling Fit’s Founder and our Tour Guide on this first ever TF Run the World Event. She had our race packets and I’m number 301 for the marathon.
Drinks and dinner were at the Hofnin Restaurant (The Harbor). Here we met as a big group and mingled with a complimentary adult beverage and a delightful meal. Service moves at a glacial pace in Iceland; that’s not a bad thing or a complaint just an observation. I suppose it affords time for digestion and time to chew over what fellow diners have to say. But I was pretty tired by meal’s end.
We all sang Happy Birthday to Isaac and I was once again impressed with Mari-Mar and the way she handles the various needs and desires of a group. As I had grown to appreciate at the aborted Outback Marathon and missed entirely with the Rapa Nui Marathon, Travelling Fit personifies world class treatment and respect for their clients. Hearing Mari-Mar talk about her experiences as company founder, growing in the last 16 years from a small one-bedroom office to a staff of 10 that takes as many as 600 runners to NYC each year, not to mention the various events they help get people to and from around the world, was really inspiring and touching. Ignoring my issues with Rapa Nui, which I think ultimately fall onto Olimpio’s heads, I can honestly say TravellingFit is as good as it gets in travel service experiences for runners. That’s not to say MarathonTours out of Boston or Albatros Adventures aren’t up there as well, but I felt really happy this evening to be supporting Mari Mar’s company by being an existing client.
Tomorrow is a 15 hour (!!) tour of the South Coast and a Glacial Tour. There probably isn’t time in the morning to get in a run before we depart at 7:40 AM… but if I once again wake up at 10:40 PM and think it’s morning, I suppose I might run tonight!