The previous day, I embarked upon a hike up to the Edelweiss Hut, in a quest to gain elevation and lunch.
I failed in that quest, due to the trail being out, my hiking poles not reminding me to bring them, and another issue that I still can’t quite recall. However, on Monday morning while starting onto my walk toward one of the waterfalls up the valley near the Matterhorn, I was gifted with an absolutely gorgeous view of said Edelweiss Hut – from a distance, and through the morning fog.
See… Zermatt had a lot of cool cafes / restaurants / hotels / buildings that’re perched up on cliffs.
In the mornings, there’s fog throughout the valley.
In this instance, those two combined to form a magical building, floating in a cloud, with birds wheeling about in the empty void between it and the ground.
While wandering around Gamla Stan, the old-city part of Stockholm, one comes across quite a few tourist destinations. Souvenir shops, tours, events, everything is calling your name (primarily your wallet). I avoided most of them, as a general rule – stopping into some shops to buy interesting postcards, or into a particularly appealing looking cafe when hunger starts gnawing at me.
I have an interesting relationship with Tourist Restaurants. On the one hand, I don’t like “tourist” things… in general, I prefer seeing a bit more of the truly native experience of a city. That being said, I also want to experience the traditional culture of a city. And, as I learned in Greenland, most “native” restaurants don’t really serve traditional food, since people would normally just cook that for themselves at home.
Connected to that… I am, at the end of the day, a tourist. I am touring. Sometimes the best way to see the traditional culture of a place is, simply, to be a tourist.
Aifur is an example of me diving into my role as a tourist head-first, full power.
It’s a tourist destination, no two ways about it. In the center of Gamla Stan, with big signs hawking a “Viking Experience”, and a wait-list at least a day long, it’s absolutely targeted toward people who don’t live in Stockholm.
And you know what? That’s great, and I had a blast!
I was announced as a I walked in, and sat at a table with two whole people who spoke English, out of maybe 8 or 10 total. We communicated out best, shared a bottle of mead, and took silly pictures with a Viking helmet, sword, and axe. I ate Pike, which I don’t think I’ve ever had, and devoured a glorious berry tart. I learned the correct way to pronounce “Wieliczka”, a place I’ll be visiting in Poland, and failed miserably at pronouncing many other Polish words.
It was ridiculous, silly, delicious, and fun. In my mind, a good tourist experience!
My second stop on my last day of #van_life wasn’t planned originally. I noticed it on the drive in to the horse farm, and got curious… so, after my ride, I headed back to see what there was to see.
What there was to see, it turns out, was Deildartunguhver hot springs and the Krauma spa attached to it.
Now, Sturlureykirhorses may have the first geothermal heating system in Europe… but Deildartunguhver is the highest flow-rate. 180 liters per second, highest flow rate. The water flows so quickly that, not only does it feed the spa nearby, but it’s also piped 21 miles away to one town… and 40 miles away to another.
I’m kind of geeking out on hot springs, being in Iceland, if you couldn’t tell.
(Ed Note: If you also couldn’t tell, Ben has left out pronunciation guides for these two places. That’s because he has no idea how to pronounce them. Bet you didn’t notice that on the previous post about the horse farm, huh?)
It’s really cool.
What isn’t really cool is the spa. It was warm, and lovely, and lovely warm. I finally bought a bathing suit, and luxuriated in the various pools at various temperatures, reading my book and appreciating the warmth and minerals on my suddenly-tired legs. Horse riding is hard, it turns out.
You know what, though? Totally worth it. As I sank into the 108 degree mineral water, I was absolutely certain that it was totally worth it.
After soaking and completely melting most of what remained of my all-of-me, I stepped out, cooled down, and grabbed some food at the attached cafe.
That’s one of the really nice things about Iceland – it really is a tourism-focused country, and they’ve done a glorious job of making us annoying tourists feel welcome. Great spas, amazing food… There is no way I could complain. Frankly, even the prices were reasonable – at least in comparison to Oregon, that is.
