Chasing the light

Riding Viking horses through the mountains at sunrise…Check

Paying £6 for a pint of local Reykjavík beer…Check

Ignoring that I’m pre-hypothermic whilst Whale (not)spotting…check

Floating in hot natural spring water from the blue lagoon, watching Mt
Eyjafjallajokull disappear behind my icy out breath…check

Two failed attempts at spotting the Aurora Borealis and a mini teenage ‘why does nature hate me?’ style temper tantrum…check

In jam-packed days we’d seen unexpectedly smelly (like 500 people opening egg sandwiches as the same time kinda smelly!) exploding Geysers, visited the spectacular mountainous setting of the first ever parliament, braved the powerful spray back of the Gulfoss waterfall but no Northern lights.

We’d re-jigged everything in order to squeeze in one more night of light chasing. Taking drastic action we put on 23 layers each (I’ve photographic evidence of this intricate layering system) and decided to northwest.
I was exhausted and being lulled into a dreamy state by the voice of our local guide. Tales of binge drinking, mischievous trolls and tiny Elves called Huldufólk that live in rock outcroppings. To us, the constant bending swerving roads leading through the rocky baron landscape seemed unnecessary, if you’re an Icelandic road worker however, protecting the homes of these lil’folk is very important. New road routes are dictated by possible habitats of the Huldufólk. Hidden throughout the greyish blue landscape you can spot álfhól; tiny, colourful, houses built by locals.

As I was succumbing to the fairy tales I was jabbed in the ribs excitedly by my friend; out of the window I could see little wisps of green. I felt spellbound, air felt paralysed around us, we were in a clearing between 3 mountains and above us in bright emerald green the sky was striped with the aurora disappearing and reappearing in the night sky. Formed by millions of vertical lines beaming down from above creating a swirling green serpent slithering through the sky.

How can something so purely visual create sound? Celestial, haunting voices accompanied the twists and turns of the light show. Whispered notes were catching the hairs on the back of my neck as we lay in the dirt looking up at the eerie display. I lay there, in awe, watching something that moves yet appears motionless; hearing something beautiful though I know it’s silent. I’m not sure about the presence of trolls or elves but Iceland… Has magic in its soul!