• Gathering Sheep: They’re Bloody Stubborn!

    It was a tough climb to the top of the hill, and I was tired from the ascent. Luckily it wasn’t raining. Once we reached the top, I turned around and looked across the valley and found that, yes, autumn had set in. The once bright green pastures had turned yellow, red and brown. The

  • Winter Westfjords And The Art Of Zen

    When I set off on a Westfjords adventure in early November, I never expected it to be such an educational experience. But, it was. What I learned was the utter futility of trying to defy the elements, how one must sometimes just surrender to the environment. City slickers heading to the Westfjords in wintertime, heed

  • Get Outta Town!

    Feeling an overwhelming urge to explore the nearby towns without missing out on Airwaves? Do you feel crushed by the drunken crowds? Guess what, here are some suggestions for how to get outta town, make the most out of your time – and get some pretty nice food while you’re at it . Hike and

  • Iceland’s Sonic Landscape

    Not long ago, I was packing my travel bag into the back of my friends’ four-wheel drive SUV as we all headed out for an extended week navigating the Ring Road. I was somewhere between a tourist and a resident, living in Iceland on a yearlong fellowship, and on my boss’s advice, I decided to

  • Tölting Through The Lava Fields

    “This is Stormur,” says the German staff member at Íshestar as she hands me the reins of my horse for the morning. She leaves us to get acquainted, and I pet Stormur’s soft nose, barely able to contain my glee. With impatience, I had sat through Íshestar’s instructional video for people who have never touched

  • Americans Love Iceland

    A couple of weeks ago I was hiking on a trail about 90 minutes from my home in Portland, Oregon, USA. I ran into a friend I hadn’t seen for a year. I asked her what she’d been up to. “Oh, I just got back from Iceland,” she said. “Really? I’m going Wednesday.” Is the

  • Thieving Santas And Priest-Driven Volcanoes

    Fists clenched, a middle aged bald man sits torn between frustration and amusement. “But Iceland is so ordinary. Nothing exciting happens here,” he says before walking off into the un-setting sun. It’s 6:30 am and I’m on a busy street corner with a crowd of friendly strangers. Sitting in a circle of borrowed patio chairs,

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