5 Astonishing Lessons That Erupted From Iceland
Let the lava of cultural appropriation reset your perspective.
Iceland opened my eyes to a better way of life.
The scenery and attractions that draw millions annually fully deliver on their promise. But between all the monumental mountains that pierce the sky, the people and culture left the strongest impression. The country buzzed with community, health, and enjoying the present.
Instead of a stuffed puffin or volcanic face cream, I brought home ideology as a souvenir. Here’s why.
Delicious and healthy food
Iceland’s food is the best. Simple, tasty, and wholesome.
On my first night, I went the traditional tourist route, having a tasting menu at a fancy restaurant. All the delicious boxes were checked—Arctic char, whale, and even puffin (very gamey, if you were wondering).
The food tour the next day went one step better. Our local guide, Karitas, talked us through the traditions and methods of fish stew, braised lamb, fermented shark, and rye bread ice cream. Karitas was a true pleasure and gave a far better sense of Icelandic identity than any guidebook ever could. Local-guided tours in small groups have become a firm fixture for me anywhere I visit.
The formula for food success:
Prize the protein. Meat was often the centerpiece; its quality is assured by the beautiful way they treat their animals—space to roam, the best food, and raised with such love and care.
Use carbs sparingly. Potatoes were present but in very light portions. Too much time in America has made me forget the appropriate side dish size.
Whole foods only. Highly processed food isn’t a thing in Iceland. The one Subway store I saw stuck out like a sore thumb. There’s something to be said about limiting unnecessary chemicals in the body.
I will do my best to adopt as many of these traditions as possible because, despite the tempting deliciousness, none of the thousands of Icelanders I saw on the trip appeared overweight.
Let me know if you’ve got a good supplier of Arctic char.
A deep sense of community
My favorite story from the many Karitas shared with us was the ritual rounding of the sheep.
Icelandic animals are free-range in the truest sense of the word. Other than being protected from cars, they can go whenever they like. So, when summer ends, they all have to be collected.
Everyone pitches in. Anyone who can ride a horse or has pens gathers all the animals, which are then redistributed to their owners via the electronic tags they wear. The process continues until completed. Everyone stays until then. No, ‘I’ve got mine, so I’m done.’ No stealing of sheep. True community.
I heard a similar story from a fellow tourist about the north of the country. When a fishing boat comes in, the whole village goes down to the docks and processes the fish until it’s finished. It might take 24 hours, it might take 36. We work as a team until it’s done, then we rest. Together.
It is embarrassing to compare this to internet forums complaining about helicopter noise and ‘suspicious activity’ and the self-aggrandizing celebration of packing lunches for people in need for 45 minutes that happens where I live.
I need to find a way to connect more meaningfully with the community.
Commitment to the country
Tourism has overtaken fishing as the number one industry in Iceland, and most visitors come in the summer.
Karitas embodied the national approach, working every day through summer to contribute to creating a great tourist experience. This approach is reminiscent of my trip to Jamaica earlier in the year—a mixture of pride at the delights on offer and commitment to sharing the best of them with tourists.
Such generosity has reached limits in other places. I recently read about Alaska and Barcelona seeking to introduce measures to limit tourism. I suspect this has far more to do with tourists' selfish approach than a rising unwillingness to share local treasures.
Back in Iceland, the significant variations in daylight hours across the year concentrate this to peak tourist season and offer balance in the months of long nights in the winter. I imagine it makes it easier to work through the invasion, knowing that quieter periods are always on the horizon.
Icelanders also seem well-traveled, balancing pride in their country with an appreciation for experiencing and knowing the best parts about other places.
I’ll think twice next time my lunch plans are inconvenienced by the flocks of school buses that regularly descend on Washington, DC.
Balanced attitudes to government
I visited Þingvellir, the original site of Icelandic parliament meetings.
Saying Þingvellir is outdoors doesn’t do it justice. It sits on the continental divide, perched on the edge of a tectonic plate above the sprawl of a beautiful glacial plane that spreads as far as the eye can see into the distance. This is a deliberate move designed to remind elected officials of their decisions’ national and global ramifications. The parliament now has a building in Reykjavik, but the approach is still being honored.
Bringing this perspective to running a country seems such an obvious step, yet it’s sorely lacking in much of the rest of the world. Most politicians elsewhere are primarily concerned with getting re-elected and lining their pockets.
Iceland was the first country in the world to elect a female president. Vigdís Finnbogadóttir led the country from 1980 to 1996. She was elected for her demonstrated leadership brilliance in theater and tourism and had a spectacularly successful spell as the country’s leader, including encouraging peace and climate awareness well beyond her country's borders.
Finnbogadóttir’s gender, divorce, and status as a single parent were not factors. Iceland enjoyed unity, progress, and impact by focusing on what is truly important—the best qualities of outstanding leadership.
We are disastrously far removed from that approach in the US.
Living with people in the present
Every town in Iceland has public baths.
To the US-based outsider, this seems a little strange. I don’t even enjoy the prospect of sitting in my own dirty water, never mind sharing everybody else’s. Then you realize it’s not about getting clean.
For the hygiene freaks among you, be assured that you are expected to shower before entering the baths. Once you’re in, you realize it’s far more about quiet reflection and being in the moment. There are no big screens, and phones are discouraged (although some tourists still wander around with them in plastic bags).
Deliberately taking a moment to let your mind be ‘bored’ is a powerful state of being. Our modern aversion to boredom, fueled by omnipresent dopamine addiction, is a significant barrier to mental health. Our minds need time and space to process and to be at peace. Icelandic baths provide this opportunity. The much-extolled benefits to the skin from the volcanic waters are secondary.
I learned a lesson from a local lady in the cold pool. Anxious for the impending sensation, I quickly sunk myself straight under the water. She knowingly looked over and said:
“Those who get in fast, get out fast.”
Sure enough, five seconds later, I was running back to the comfort of the geothermal waters. With her advice in mind, I approached again 30 minutes later. I slowly submerged, remembering what I’d heard about focusing on breath during cold exposure: Breathe in 4 seconds, hold 4 seconds, breathe out 4 seconds, hold 4 seconds.
The breath work forces you to stay in the present, allowing you to acknowledge the sensation of the cold water without reacting to it. To my delight, I could stay there for a solid couple of minutes - long enough to get a humorous close-up view of other tourists making the same mistake I had made.
My cold shower rituals are now a walk in the park from now on.
Thus ends my love letter to Iceland. A land of beauty, majesty, and the awe-inspiring power of nature where, as with most things, the true beauty lies below the surface.
If you can’t get there yourself, please enjoy my souvenirs and import a little slice of Iceland into your life. Realize that a global perspective isn’t zero-sum, care for your body, and remember to breathe.
What’s the social economic foundation or history so that gender, divorce, and status as a single parent were not factors there?
Great article Graeme. I'm adding Iceland to my future trip list!