I’m Going Back to Iceland and I’m Quietly Terrified
I’m flying across the ditch to visit my pals in North America in March. The best country in the entire world (from what I’ve seen of it) happens to be nestled in between the continent I’m bailing on and the continent I am heading to. It makes sense therefore, to take a few days respite in my darling Reykjavik; best to break up the “taxing” eight hour flight.
I have one concern. The last time I went to Iceland, my expectations were already pretty great; the trip itself exceeded them. Now, the stakes are even higher. I know what I’m in for. I had the time of my life last time I was there. How could I ever top that?
The unknown is a scary prospect, but I believe our desire to control is where the fear stems from. Yes, I could go to Iceland and have a really terrible trip this time round. At the very worst, the country may end up somewhat diminished in my mind. At the best, it will make for an interesting story.
I do however doubt that will be the case. Last time I went, I chose to “go with the flow”. This time I feel informed; I have a better idea of what I plan to do. I want to do a day trip out to the Golden Circle. I wish to give Svið a go. I’m keen to go for another trek on the cute little Icelandic horses. I hope to once again see the Northern Lights.
I’m going back to Iceland. As for what round two will bring, I can hardly wait to find out.