Trolls vs. Elves
If New Zealand is some fairyland, a place where elves and nymphs reside, then Iceland is certainly the homeland of trolls and other such groundling folklore. I believe it (as do over half of the Icelandic population). In New Zealand, an island nation of birds, it isn't hard to imagine caretakers of the forest as magical creatures beyond the hardworking conservationists. I mean, I did meet the BFG amidst turquoise glowworms (read The Real BFG) and the lush green native bush lacks any real predator, a green oasis of flora that boggles the mind and yet never seems to surround you in much distress. Obviously, NZ is the home of elves if The Lord of the Rings didn't drive home the point enough. But Iceland, the northern mirror of NZ some say (I would claim it more as a distant - very distant - cousin), does not portray much feeling of safety or temperate climate for delicate creatures. The molten lava fields lightly brushed over with green moss stretch beyond the eye, a landscape for tribal troll battles and volcanic storms or at least the inspirational site for Frozen's mythical lot. You can find beautiful hot springs that would portray a culture of relaxation if shelters for the cold winds weren't surrounding them. Even traditional Icelandic homes were literally built into the ground to avoid the harsh climate. Iceland can confidently claim they possess the REAL Shire, although I do not believe hobbits, or fairies for that matter, reside in this country. The Vatnajökull glacier alone covers over 3,000 sq. miles, almost a tenth of Iceland and is the largest ice cap in Europe. NZ's Franz Josef glacier is just a little over 12 sq. miles. Unless you are a frosty fairy, there is no way anything but rough gruff trolls patrol these lands - maybe a dwarf. It is a serious business when that wind picks up, most likely why even the sheep have a more hardened wool, much rougher to the touch than my soft NZ merino-possum gloves. No, this is not a homeland for fairies. But it is magic, an island full of wonders, horses, black sand beaches, hot spring silica mud, enormous waterfalls amidst lush green meadows, red soil, iceberg lagoons, and the most fantastic geyser (Strokkur) I've seen yet (probably why the word is originally Icelandic). Even choral music in the Hallgrímskirkia church during Reykjavik Culture Night breathed of mystical mysteries. Oh. And that little historic thing called Vikings. But what do I know? A week in a country vs. over a year in NZ reveals I might have a bias -- as well as a tourist outlook on the natural terrain. I wouldn't take my word for it, I would encourage you to see it for yourself. But if you do, rent a caravan and take a month so you can truly take in all Iceland has to offer. I barely scraped the surface. Literally, because I dug a hole in the ground and tried to bake my 100+ year old sourdough from Alaska in the Icelandic manner of burying it in geothermal heat for 24 hrs. Icelandic bread history made. Check.
