The island of Iceland was born out of earthquake, explosion and fire some 15 million years ago in the North Atlantic ocean. It straddles the Mid-Atlantic ridge (between Greenland and Norway), where the tectonic plates of North America and Eurasia intersect and are gradually pulling apart at an average rate of about 2.5 centimeters a year. As the plates separate and rifts open, molten rock bubbles up creating new land formations of which Iceland is a striking example.

 

At 103,000 square kilometres, Iceland is a third larger than Scotland or Ireland. It is one of the youngest land formations on earth, still in the process of "coming into being" from ongoing volcanic activity. On average, the country has a volcanic eruption every five years. Indeed, much of the variation in Iceland's terrain has to do with volcanoes erupting at different times over the millions of years of its existence. Soon after a fresh lava field is laid down and hardens into rock, other forces of nature - ice, wind, rain, sun - begin their work, grinding and wearing down the rugged surface, and laying the basis for the first shoots of life to sprout up from the thin, but mineral-rich soil. In a few thousand years, a once barren, craggy plain can be transformed into a lush green field with waving grasses and shrubs. But then a new eruption or an advancing glacier can come along to reverse the entire process, catapulting the land back into wasteland. And so it is that barren lava plain, green field, glacial outwash, and mountain outcrop are sometimes seen in close proximity.

 

Much of Iceland, especially in the Interior, is composed of volcanic wastelands, huge glaciers, rushing rivers, and lakes shimmering in the sun. But, in parts of the South, and around the coast, where the temperature is milder, settlements and even farming are possible, and, indeed, thrive. Because of the climate and remote location, insects are few (there is only one biting fly) and livestock illnesses are relatively rare. As a result, Iceland's sheep and cattle are organically raised, the lamb especially known for its tenderness and delicious flavour, and the butter for its sweetness and deep yellow hue.

 

Although most volcanic eruptions on Iceland are minor, others are more disruptive, even catastrophic, on some occasions forcing nearby residents to flee their homes from choking clouds of ash and relentless lava flows. That being said, most of the eruptions take place far away from human habitation on the island. Recent examples have been the Eyjafjallajokull volcano in the south of Iceland, and Grimsvotn, located under thick glacial ice. Ash clouds from both have disrupted air travel all the way over the ocean to Europe. But Iceland is a large body of land, and life goes on in the unaffected regions as it has for hundreds of years.

 

Iceland's volcanic origins have caught the imagination of writers and scientists over the centuries. One of the most famous authors was Jules Verne, the French novelist, who wrote the science fiction classic, "A Journey to the Centre of the Earth" in 1864. 

 

In Verne's novel, a German professor discovers a cryptic message in the manuscript of one of the old Icelandic sagas that reads: "Descend, bold traveler, into the crater of Snaefellsjokull, which the shadow of Scartaris touches before the Kalends of July, and you will attain the centre of the earth; which I have done." The message is signed by a medieval Icelandic alchemist by the name of Arne Saknussemm.

 

The professor and his companions journey to Snaefellsjokull, which is a 1500 metres high volcano on the Snaefellsness peninsula of Iceland. Following the cryptic instructions, the group descends via a passageway into the "centre of the earth" and discover a vast cavernous world complete with prehistoric plants and animals. And the fantastic adventure proceeds on from there.

 

For our part, when we toured the Snaefellsness peninsula by car, we were able to get glimpses through the clouds of Snaefellsjokull's dazzling glacier-tipped heights. Snaefellsjokull is a "stratovolcano" which means that it has the potential to be catastrophically explosive like Mount St. Helen's or Krakatoa. Far below, on the slopes of the peninsula, sheep and cattle graze in the neon-bright fields, and picturesque towns and fishing villages dot the coast with its dizzying cliffs and beaches of glistening black sand. From time to time, as we drove by, we spotted thin plumes of steam emanating from the earth as if to remind us and all other visitors of the molten forces lurking just below the surface. The mountain has been slumbering for many centuries, and hopefully will for many more.

 

Because the mountain ranges of Iceland are volcanic in origin and are the product of "diverging" tectonic plates, they tend to have a different appearance from the "folded" mountains that come into being as the result of "colliding" tectonic plates, such as are prevalent in Western North America. Some of these mountains sprout up cone-like on flatter land and, from a distance, resemble pyramids. Others form massive ranges that are flat-topped and mesa-like, and are the result of subglacial eruptions during the Ice Age. Still others are the gradual accretion of layer upon layer of volcanic material over millions of years or are massive "stratovolcanoes" like Snaefellsjokull or Hekla (which in Medieval times was thought to be the very Gates of Hell).

 

Adding to the strange and "otherworldliness" of the landscape is the fact that Iceland is almost completely treeless, and thus the bare bones of its contours are exposed in all their primeval wonder and starkness. Surprisingly, despite Iceland's location just south of the Arctic circle, the climate around the perimeter of the island is temperate - cool in summer, but relatively mild in winter. This phenomenon is due to the influence of the warmer waters of the Gulf Stream flowing up from the palm-treed tip of Florida thousands of kilometres to the South.

 

Nevertheless, the frozen wastes of the North pole are not that far away. As a result, visiting in August, we found it difficult at times to figure out what to wear as we travelled around Reykjavik and the surrounding countryside. Our hotel room got quite hot from the long hours of sunlight streaming in from the window. Although summer days can get surprisingly warm, given the high Northern latitude, the breeze can have a brisk, sometimes icy, edge especially in the shade. Walking the streets of Reykjavik, we saw some people wearing t-shirts and tank tops, and others (especially older tourists) wrapped in scarves, sweaters and hoodies. To add to the confusion, one bright morning, bundled up in our coats, we saw one brave young man jogging along in shorts by the white-capped ocean, bare chested and sweating profusely. 

 

Reflecting the changeability of the weather, the Icelandic Bar in downtown Reykjavik, which specializes in freshly-caught seafood, has tables and chairs set out on the sidewalk for patrons to sip beer and watch the throngs of people passing by. But, even in August, it also supplies blankets to wrap around their shivering legs when the sun clouds over.

 

Given its far northern location, you would expect Iceland to be a place where hockey reigns, as in Canada, Sweden and other northern countries. However, as one of our tour bus guides pointed out, hockey is still developing as a popular sport. In winter, the temperature along the coast often hovers just above freezing (more like the Pacific Coast than the British Columbian Interior), making it difficult to keep the ice frozen in out-of-door rinks. As a result, over the years, hockey has not "caught on" to the same degree as elsewhere. At least not yet. Our guide assured us that, in the last couple of decades, more indoor rinks and arenas have been established and that, no doubt, Iceland will emerge as a "hockey country" one day.

 

And that might not be an idle boast. Iceland takes its sports and other competitive endeavours very seriously. For example, there is the "World's Strongest Man" contest that the U.S., U.K., Canada and other large countries compete in. Over the last 30 years or so, Iceland, one of the smallest nations on earth (with just over 300,000 people), has won the championship an amazing 8 times.

 

As we shall see in Part 3 of this series, to live in this harsh land of volcanoes, glaciers, bubbling hot springs, geysers, and vast frigid seas, Icelanders needed that kind of powerful spirit to build the nation and establish their way of life.