The Northern Lights

The notion of seeing the Northern Lights first struck me a few years ago. Each year, I teach a unit that involves students making a bucket list. For whatever reason (I blame it on Pinterest), fourteen-year-old girls are obsessed with the idea of the Northern Lights. After filtering through the always interesting dreams and aspirations of America's youth (i.e.winning the lottery; swimming in a pool of pudding; marrying Justin Bieber, etc.), there are always a few of my students' ideas that strike me as noteworthy. Seeing the Northern Lights eventually transferred from the pages of student work to the part of my brain where I store all of my crazy travel aspirations. And naturally, when I get bored, I sit around and research how I can pull off the crazy travel aspirations of my dreams. Hence, Cody and I found ourselves in Iceland looking for those magical lights of bucket lists everywhere. 

Despite our lack of preparation (Cody was wearing tennis shoes; I didn't have my camera), we boarded the bus with around fifty other excited tourists. We drove about an hour outside of Reykjavik to a farm to start the viewing portion of the night. There are farms all throughout Iceland that specialize in Northern Lights viewing; this one in particular had a barn with a restaurant inside that served waffles and hot chocolate. When we first stepped off the bus, Cody and I immediately recognized that finding the Northern Lights involves a lot of standing in the snow staring at a black sky. I suppose I knew that there would be a lot of standing around in the Icelandic night, but the anticipation of catching a glimpse of the lights had sort of cancelled out any hesitation I ever felt about the cold and snowy waiting period. We spent probably an hour standing around at the farm. Intermittently, we would go inside the barn to warm up and drink hot chocolate. We spent a couple of hours meandering in and out, staring at a dark sky. No lights.

Toward the end of the night, one of the guides came into the barn and informed us that the sky was clear and the signs that hint toward lights activity were present. We all shuffled outdoors, the prepared people set up their tripods and cameras, and we stared at a sky that contained the slightest discoloration on the northern horizon. Before long, it was time to board the buses and head back. We had seen no lights. We were bummed, but the warnings against betting on a lights sighting kept the disappointment at bay. Cody and I had spent a night gazing at the clearest Icelandic sky we had ever seen. We had eaten waffles and drank hot chocolate. We had giggled and laughed and had a good time even without any lights. We were told we could come back another night to try again; we accepted that this night was a bust.

After sitting on the bus for thirty minutes or so waiting on a misplaced tourist, we finally headed toward Reykjavik. We were on the bus for only a few minutes before we pulled to the side of the road. Our guide told us that the lights were beginning. We all filed off the bus onto the shoulder of the road to stand in snow nearly to our knees. We stood for a few minutes and stared toward the northern horizon. The activity that our guide mentioned was starting to become apparent. We stared. And stared. We shielded ourselves from the wind. We cursed the occasional passerby for using headlights of all things to drive while we were trying to see the Northern Lights. We moaned and groaned each time someone took a picture using a flash - a camera function that was strictly advised against by our guide.

And then finally with toes that were nearly frozen (especially Cody's) we saw them. They were green and finicky. They came and went. They were not like the pictures on Pinterest, but they were there and so were we. We "ewwed" and "ahhhed." We were excited, but then we got back on the bus. Our guide informed us that this was not the greatest display but told us that we might see them again before the night was over. So we continued on...

Back on the bus, emotions were high. Cody and I managed to get in a verbal altercation with a fellow bus rider about switching seats. I won't go into the details about the argument. Just know that we do not regret sitting on the right side of the bus, no matter whose seat we stole.

Before the evening was over, we continued to see the Northern Lights. We saw them out of the window of the bus; we pulled over to the side of the road again and again. One time in particular we saw lights that looked a lot like Pinterest. It was cool. Very cool. It was cool and unlike what I expected. 

Part of the unexpected part of Northern Lights hunting involves the difficulty in capturing the lights. I mentioned earlier that I did not have my camera; however, even if I did, I would not have gotten a picture. We soon learned that photographing the lights requires really nice camera equipment and a tripod. The guide spent fifteen minutes on the way to the farm explaining all of the appropriate settings to use. It was at this point that I just accepted that this was not a night for pictures. 

I recently sorted through all of the pictures and footage from our trip. I happened upon a picture of a picture that Cody had filmed with his GoPro. He had managed to look over the shoulder of one of the ultra-prepared, camera-toting folks on our tour to capture a fuzzy image of someone else's image from our night. When I watched this video and saw the fleeting image of a camera with the lights, it was like I had found Big Foot. I was excited to say the least.

The lights were green mainly. They looked like they were creeping above the horizon. This is a guy's screen on his camera. 

I could waste a lot of words trying to communicate the deeper meaning of seeing the Northern Lights for me. I could spend a lot of time professing about my weird connection between this experience and having a baby (see: this blog). I may tackle this subject someday, but for now I am okay with my years of dreaming about the Northern Lights being wrapped up in a fuzzy image and my memory. 

The consistent view in Iceland.

We arrived at our hostel in Reykjavik at around 6p.m. on Monday. Our hostel (B47 Hostel) was bearable. I knew beforehand that the building was once used as a hospital, so Cody and I were both sort of holding our breath until we actually saw the place. The only other hostel in which we have stayed was in Barcelona a few summers ago. We had some questionable experiences in Spain with poison ivy and orange puke that had me scared.

Cody in our hostel with my tshirt acting as a rug. Again, bearable. 

After we settled in to our room, we decided to explore the city by walking to the busiest stree in town, Lagauvegur (good luck pronouncing that mess). We saw lots of cute stores and interesting places to eat. We ended up eating at The Lebowski Bar, which was an entire restaurant based off the famous movie. It was interesting.

My first impression of Reykjavik reminded me a lot of ski towns that I have visited. It was a lot like a more liberal, edgier Breckenridge. Lots of speciality stores. Unique people. Christmas lights all around. Quaint streets that allow for walking from place to place. There were a lot of young people and a lot of people that were obviously tourists. It was cold outside but comparable to a winter night in Arkansas. Nothing like I imagined an Icelandic night in January would be.

This is the Hallgrimskirkja Lutheran Church that we used as a landmark for finding most everything in Reykjavik.

After dinner and a little window shopping, Cody and I happened upon a line of people outside of what appeared to be a tourist office. We (I) was feeling a little panicky at this point because a few people had mentioned that Northern Lights Tours would not be running New Year’s Eve or New Year’s Day. That left us with only Wednesday night to have a shot at seeing the lights. Naturally, the line outside of the tourist building was for a Northern Lights tour that was scheduled to leave at 8p.m in approximately 15 minutes. We hopped in line and found ourselves on an enormous bus full of people on our way to find the Aurora Borealis. Looking back on it, I suppose it was fate that we randomly found a tour to go on. I had spent hours researching the various options and highest rated tours. It had killed me not to book one in advance. Yet, we still ended up hunting for the Northern Lights just as we hoped we would. Our Northern Lights experience up next!

Reykjavik from atop the Hallgrimskirkja Lutheran Church.

The view from the airport in Iceland as we waited nearly an hour for our punk rental car employee to come get us. Icelanders are all about being laid back, which is a synonym for irresponsible. 

This is our Toyota Corolla that we rented from SADcars. Yes, the name of the business was SADcars. Cody high-centered this bad boy before we even got out of the parking lot of the rental car place. Awesome. 

A sign in the window of The Lebowski Bar. Sort of the mentality we sensed throughout all of Iceland. 

White Fever

"The less people knew, the more marvellous the images of the unknown land became – if you had not seen it, you could dream it up yourself."  

Before we left Copenhagen, Cody and I wandered dumbfounded through a museum exhibition depicting the reality of the arctic. We were mesmerized by the images of people fighting against the cold and frozen earth. We were introduced to the history of a part of the world that was as strange as any place we could imagine. We were a little fearful about the number of times Iceland was mentioned in the pictures of explorers who had fought against the land and lost. Nonetheless, we caught a glimpse of where we were headed and shook our heads in disbelief that we were going to spend some time in this part of the world. We left the museum with a lot of excitement mixed with some apprehension about our next stop. We left the museum with what explorers refer to as "white fever" or the undeniable urge to see it for yourself. Our day at the Museum of Modern Art was completely unforeseen, yet perfectly applicable to our final destination.

The day after our museum experience we jumped on another plane to fly the three-ish hours to Iceland to fulfill our new found desire to see this place that had been hanging from the walls hours before. Despite all of the anticipation, the plane ride was the first point of our trip when I started to feel a pull from home, a natural point in a trip (especially an international one) in which the idea of home seems more appealing than being thousands of miles away. The notion struck me as I was listening to the super drunk, non-English speaking guy across the row from me who was nearly screaming at the woman in the row in front of him. He smelt bad. He was gross looking. He used the bathroom no less than four times. And he grew louder and louder with each beer he ingested. It was obnoxious and annoying and suddenly made me feel like Fort Smith, Arkansas was a better alternative at that moment. 

When we finally started our descent, I found myself feeling sort of over airplanes and hotel beds and weird food and foreign languages. I leaned over to complain to Cody (again) about Mr. Loud Talker when I caught a glimpse of the most startlingly magnificent snow-covered mountains perched directly over Cody's shoulder. It was like Iceland appeared out of nowhere. Suddenly we were flying over snow and water and jagged mountains blanketed by a setting 3p.m. sun. It was so weird and disorienting that everyone on the plane was craning to see what Cody and I realized was the first glimpse of the world depicted in a museum the day before. 

Thinking back on our trip this experience flying over Iceland stands out as one of the coolest that we had. Iceland from above was as unfamiliar and extreme as the pictures at the museum. All of the articles I had read and pictures I had seen were no longer necessary for me to try to imagine what Iceland entails. It was happening. It was right below us. It was wild.

Logically, we were super pumped as we stepped off of the plane. However, our first few hours in Iceland were filled with a rapidly setting afternoon sun, an hour long wait for a rental car, and Cody pushing our Toyota Corolla station wagon off of a four foot snow mound in fifty mile per hour wind and snow. 

Nevertheless, we had arrived.

Copenhagen - Day 3

Sunday was our final full day in Copenhagen. We decided to venture outside the city to the Louisiana Museum of Modern Art. A 30 minute train ride (after our first train ride did not take us to our desired destination...whoops) allowed us to see a bit of the Danish countryside and a really interesting museum. I am the first to admit that I am not much of an art fan. I lack even minimal knowledge about really any type of art; however, modern art is much more accessible to me. The museum that we spent our day at was perched on the shore of the Baltic Sea with grounds that were as interesting as the actual exhibits. It was really cool.

We happened to see a man jump in the ocean on this particular day. He looked a bit chilly.

Oddly enough, one of the exhibits at the museum was all about the arctic. It had works of art associated with the exploration of the arctic over the years. It had life-size stuffed polar bears, stories about famous explorers, videos of some of the most vivid Northern Lights footage, and an underlying message about the harmful changes associated with global warming. There were also numerous pieces associated with an immersion into the elements of the arctic. We stood in a pitch black room with only the sounds of glaciers melting. We watched a haunting video of a man hiking at night through inner Iceland with the actual sound of the wind (a concept I more fully understood later in our trip). It was really interesting and added to our excitement about our upcoming three days in Iceland. We both left the museum with what the exhibit referred to as "white fever;" the undeniable interest to experience what was once an untouched part of the world, despite the understanding of how dangerous it could be. And man, we wanted to see the Northern Lights. 

Sunday night was spent playing Canasta in our warm and comfortable hotel lobby. The Chicago Bears were playing the Packers in a very important NFL game and by some stroke of luck, the game was being showed on Copenhagen cable. It was nice to sit by a fireplace in a cozy hotel lobby and watch a little football. Cody especially appreciated that his world traveling did not require him to miss any NFL football...although it turns out that the Bears can suck no matter what continent on which you watch them. 

One last thing about Copenhagen that we thought was pretty funny involved Cody's latest gadget. We recently bought a Go Pro camera to play around with. Cody ended up being in charge of the footage from our trip and decided to spend some time with a camera strapped to his head. People in Copenhagen looked at Cody as if he had two heads. It was pretty funny. After a while he wasn't even filming stuff and instead freaking people out. Silly Americans. 

In their defense, he does look sort of creepy. 

Copenhagen - Day 2

Our first full day started with brunch at a cafe called Kalaset across the street from our hotel. The food was different but good. Even Cody made do despite his pickiness which is always amplified in another country. 

My only food picture from the trip. I promise.

We spent the rest of the day walking the streets and exploring more of the city. I made a concerted effort during this portion of our trip to avoid planning every minute of everyday. Since Copenhagen was literally decided upon according to the cheapest airfare available in connection with Iceland, I had spent much less time dictating what to do.

After brunch, we found Rosenborg Castle within the city. I like castles (who doesn't?) so we spent an hour or so exploring the grounds and the interior. There was lots of history associated with the castle, but I'm not going to bore you with the details. 

There was a moat that we thought was really cool. Then we noticed it didn't go all the way around the castle. I don't know about that. 

These two pictures explain how historically minded Cody and I are and the reason why we generally stray from historical sites while on vacation. 

At night on our second day in Copenhagen we spent a few hours at Tivoli, the world's oldest amusement park. Tivoli was fun, although a bit lacking compared to my extensive time spent in Disney World. There were a lot of Christmas decorations and a lights and laser show set to Christmas music. There was hot chocolate and roller coasters and outrageously priced fair food. It was fun for a couple hours.

We finished our day with a few hours spent back at our brunch restaurant from earlier in the day. I think it must have been the irresistible atmosphere of Kalaset that sucked Cody and I into its sunken door on Saturday night. While I was researching Copenhagen and Denmark, I often came across the Danish word "hygge" which is loosely translated to "cozy." Apparently, Danish people strongly believe in physical spaces that convey a welcome, warm atmosphere in which anyone feels welcome. They in fact believe in the importance of "hygge" so much that they manage to explain this concept on every travel show or article ever created. Our hotel even had a "hygge hour" rather than happy hour every evening. Danes are all about coziness and our Saturday night in Copenhagen was proof of this. 

Kalaset on this particular evening had steamy windows and a DJ playing old school American hip hop (think . We got lost in a corner of the restaurant with all kinds of languages flying around us and two for one drink specials that created a collection of hours that we didn't anticipate experiencing. Cody and I laughed and talked and drank in (literally and figuratively) one of those unforeseen perfect nights that wrap you up in its soft arms for a few hours that felt really easy. We finally staggered back to our hotel early in the morning. Pink-cheeked and giggly, we didn't know at the time that this evening of fun would result in a stone-cold sober New Year's Eve celebration only a few nights later. Needless to say, Cody and I are not cut out for late night shenanigans any longer...or maybe we never were. 

Copenhagen - Day 1

A comic book store with a red door. There were so many interesting shops with interesting facades. Very cool. 

We arrived in Copenhagen last Friday at about 3 in the afternoon. We found our hotel fairly easily after some confusion about whether to ride the train or the metro. We were tired after our 8 hour flight (despite the ambien induced few hours of sleep we had gotten), but we knew it was best if we could stay awake for a while. We ended up finding a really cool movie theater at which we watched The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug. Looking back on it, Cody and I both realized that a dark movie theater was maybe not the best cure for our sleepiness; however, the cuteness of the movie theater was worth the foggy movie experience. 

The movie theater had multiple levels and Christmas decorations with enormous crystal chandeliers. Very fun. 

After the movie, a burst of energy led us on a cold walk through the streets of the city. Most of the stores were closed, but Christmas lights were everywhere and Copenhagen managed to excite us about our few days to come. 

The center of Copenhagen in designated for walking only with tons of lights and decorations, including enormous red hearts. A nice touch. 

Our rainy walk on our first night. 

Flower markets in Copenhagen.

A side street with lots of bikes. 

One of the numerous squares within Copenhagen. 

Our time spent in the city touted as home to the happiest people on earth (I mean this literally; someone did a survey) did in fact include pleasant and kind interactions for the most part. Denmark and Iceland both contained seemingly cool folks. A few things that stood out to me as we walked the streets of Copenhagen were the popularity of bikes in the city. Everyone travels by bike in a city that very obviously caters to this green form of transportation. Logically, streets full of bicycles rather than cars is a unique difference from home. I was also struck by how thin Copenhageners are - a logical by-product of bikes for cars. I think it is worthwhile to see the way people in other parts of the world exist. Copenhagen and Iceland both conveyed a true consideration for our earth and the way we live on it. I couldn't help but feel almost ashamed at the resistance that most Americans (including myself) approach the concept of our impact on the earth. Copenhagen especially has adopted government-led initiatives to be better in respect to the environment and it was a bit contagious. Other than all the nice, happy people and cute bicycles, Copenhagen was full of English speaking Danish folks who seemed to be really accepting of just about anyone and everyone. Another topic us Americans ought to get behind. 

Other first impressions included lots of blonde hair, blue eyes, and tall people. We also determined that the hipster originated in Copenhagen as wide-rimmed glasses, skinny pants, and thrift store clothes were the norm. Fine food and throwback versions of everything were also considered cool. Needless to say, Cody and I felt acutely American and acutely out of the loop, but that's okay. 

Plane Truths

I'm on a flight home from a week in Denmark and Iceland. The decision to go on this trip was impulsive. Cody and I decided on Reykjavik for a New Year's Eve destination only because of a happened-upon article about fireworks in Iceland. We discussed the logistics of the trip for a few hours and then jumped in. Booked some flights. Found some hotels. Decided to wander through Copenhagen for a few days also. This entire experience is completely unlike me. The older I get the more I crave control. The more I want to know what each day consists of down to the minute. I make lists of all kinds to manage menial chores I need to do. I obsessively check the weather to ensure that I am prepared for every possible scenario. I write out a weekly schedule on a board stuck to my refrigerator. I like seeing my life in a neatly presented list of days and times. This compulsion for control and the ability to forecast my every move is useless and unnecessary. I know this. Nonetheless, it is part of who I am. I handle the uncontrollable parts of my life by establishing a death grip on all the rest. 

I happen to be married to a guy who is the exact opposite of predictable and controlled and organized. Cody revels in freedom and a lack of a plan. It has taken nearly a decade for me to bestow even the smallest appreciation for a plan and routine in the life of Cody Prater. In a lot of ways, Cody is the reason why I am getting to gaze at a setting sun 30,000 feet above an snow-covered Greenland right now. He is the reason I agreed to venture to the frozen tundra rather than the familiar warm beach. He is the reason I have spent hours walking the streets of Copenhagen and getting lost in mood lighting and vodka. He is the guy who tried (unsuccessfully) to teach me how to drive a standard engine car late at night in a parking lot in Reykjavik. He brought me to a road side in Iceland beneath the Northern Lights. He allowed me this brief window of a plan-less existence that took us to the middle of Iceland without a human to be found and winds that literally almost blew our car off of an icy road on our way to parts of this world that I thought were only in movies. He somehow always finds a way to be the support I need to do things that are not naturally hardwired for me to do. And it is days that take me 30,000 feet above the earth on a plane chasing the setting sun when I appreciate this guy a little more than the days planned out on my refrigerator door.