Attack of the Black Backpack
Ah, the things I have experienced this week! The first 7 days of my trip have been quite the adventure. It all kicked-off with the donning of my large, black, fully-stuffed backpack at home in NY. Wow, at first 30lbs doesn’t feel so bad. That was going to change. After some heartfelt goodbyes to friends and family, Steve and I met up with the rental car and hit the road. The drive to Boston was seamless, and our bright yellow Aveo got us there with 3 hours to spare. We checked the heavy packs and made it through security without any problem. I’ve kind of enjoyed the more exciting security experiences I’ve had in the past… As far as plane rides go, IcelandAir gave a great one. The stewardess’ were nice, but quickly switched to a firm Nordic tone when rebellious passengers tried to put their seats back before take-off. Steve and I had grabbed the exit row seats on purpose when ordering tickets (usually more leg room), and we had some great company join us in the third seat. They also had these great, touch-screen TV’s on the back of the seats in front of us. You could watch movies, various shows, peruse Iceland-info, or monitor the status of your flight. They were a little stingy with the apple juice, but overall IcelandAir was a way better ride than most of its American counterparts.
We landed in Reykjavik around 1:45am Eastern, and that made it 6:45 in Iceland. I had managed some broken sleep during the flight, but as soon as we landed I was up and ready to go. We had to go through security again, and after that customs, but it was smooth sailing. After that we exchanged some dough, which seemed like a great deal at first. Later we found out Iceland was still pretty expensive, and the difference in currencies really didn’t add up to much saving for us. We bumped into 2 other American guys who were here to do some exploring and maybe catch a plane to Greenland (I was a wee-bit jealous hearing that). We hung out with them on the bus to Reykjavik, and talked about the different things we were hoping to do.
The bus driver dropped us off at a hostel just outside the city center. At this point I was still thinking my pack wouldn’t be too much of a challenge. We grabbed a couple maps at the front desk, and got some local advice on navigating around town. After that we assembled our plan and took off into the dark Icelandic morning. Step one was to make it to the bus station and check out times to Selfoss. Our work-exchange was expecting us that day. In hindsight, I would have stayed one more day in Reykjavik, but you live and learn when you’re winging-it. Making our way through town was great. This definitely wasn’t NYC, drivers went out of their way to stop for you and wait whether you were on the sidewalk or approaching the curb. There were a few tall, larger buildings, but no skyscrapers here. The tallest building seemed to be this very cool looking church we came upon. Overall there was the hustle-bustle of a larger city, but without the massive amounts of people. It reminded me of a larger version of Saratoga Springs from back home. We wandered down many streets, and the 30lbs on my back was definitely making it’s presence felt. Eventually we made it to the station and got our 2pm tickets. Then it was off for more exploring. An upscale shopping district, parliament, and old graveyard were a few things that crossed our path before we went back to the station. When I finally ditched my pack, my body felt like it was still on there for the next minute or so. Weird. My back was begging for a break and finally got it.
Overall, Reykjavik is a great town. Even with the grey, cold, and rainy weather it still made for a good time. But then again, it was our choice to come in January! Bring a good bit of dough, because things can get pricey. We’re hoping to hit these streets again after our work-exchange. As the time drew near for our 2pm bus I thought about the upcoming ride to our fairly mysterious destination. I had lined-up everything via e-mail, and had seen pictures, but I still had a pretty vague idea of what to expect. Time to shed another creature comfort…the certainty of knowing what to expect, and in a different country no less! I was up for the challenge. The time came and the bus arrived. I stood up, gave my back a big stretch, and decided I wasn’t desperate enough to ask Steve for a back rub (yeah…never will be!). I was going to tough this one out and show that pack who’s boss. I heaved my pack on and walked on to the bus. Mystery destination here I come!

Comments (7)











So you didn’t get a backpack with a waist bearing belt eh? That would help with your back quite a bit.
Nice pic by the way.
next time your in Reykjavik check out the university – i think it’s not too far from the pond in your picture & if you have the time and can find a safe place for your pack i’d suggest you climb the church tower for the view – seen may trees yet? Oh – don’t forget to visit the greenhouses with the banana trees, which i think are on the way to Selfoss
Peanut, did you make the right choice in shoes? Were the hightops a smart move?
Chels I did, the shoes have officially passed my tests. Especially yesterday through today. Doug, I didn’t get to the university but I did see those greenhouses! Not a lot of tress, but I’ve seen a few. Wanted to do WAY more exploring… Randy, both packs have something that wraps around the waist. But they are still killing us. Hopefully we’ll get more used to it, or maybe we’re to old…never!
Sounds like the trip is going well so far.
Dave–
I traveled for two months with a big pack, and the first two weeks were pretty tough! I thought my shoulders would never be the same! But it does get better as you get used to it–it’s a built in workout! Try looking for tourist offices or town information centers; sometimes they’ll take pity and let you store your pack behind their counter for the day while you explore. (Especially if you promise to mention them on your travel website!)
Good luck! Can’t wait to read about the rest of the trip!
Leslie, hi! The packs are getting a little easier. If I thought Iceland was tough, Paris turned out to be like backpack boot camp. After that I think I can handle anything my beast of a pack throws at me…