I'd been hankering to go to Iceland for years and this has nothing to do with a deep abiding love of prawn rings. Iceland has always seemed so mysterious, so mystical, geographically quite close but in reality a million miles away. They even share a timezone with us. And then iceland kept hitting the news. Firstly we discovered in September 2008 that Icelandic banks had bankrolled a surprising number of British companies, and when the global credit crisis hit, Iceland's economy really suffered. Then the now infamous Eyjafjallajökull volcano blew its top in 2010 and disrupted the worlds air space, making the blue skies around me eerily quiet. So when AY, who I met in Berlin last year, said her friends had found a great flights and hotel package and threw it open to the Berlin crowd, I snapped at the chance.
The first surprise was how much toastier Rekyjavik was compared to London, and I was more worried beforehand that I wouldn't be warm enough. And the next surprise was the distinct lack of ice, there had been a huge snow fall just before we arrived but there were barely remnants surviving.
Our hotel was situated right opposite the Hallgrímskirkja, one of Iceland’s tallest building and strikingly designed to mimic the landscape of lava flows.
We'd discovered the usefulness of the this church as a beacon when we got a little lost on returning to our hotel. We also thought it looked like a Bond villain’s lair which one day might suddenly blast off for a land far, far away.
It certainly is an dramatic structure and in lieu of ice and snow, the first photographic opportunity.