I still remember Christmas morning 1987, talking with my Aunt on the other end of phone wires that I envisioned stretching clear under the Atlantic Ocean. She was stationed in Iceland that winter and I mostly remembered the term "white out" being used while we passed the phone around exchanging holiday greetings. It conjured images of fitful snow as I imagined a place perfectly black in the darkness. Black gusting wind, white driven snow...and somehow it seemed absolutely magical.
That's probably the first time I actually heard of Iceland, I was 8.
And tomorrow I'll be aboard an IcelandAir flight bound from Anchorage to Reykjavik. It's not that I've always dreamed of Iceland since I was a kid...but at some point in adulthood it firmly lodged itself as one of my most desired destinations.
I passed through the airport last fall on my way back from Shetland, so close but all I could do was poke around the single gift shop and the duty free, never stepping outside the airport.
But now it's for real, I have 2 weeks, on my own, to explore. I'm not going just for vacation, though I imagine my itinerary will feel quite satisfying. Rather I'm going to do some groundwork for a knitting related project!
I'm greatly looking forward to watching the adventure unfold. I plan on photographing and documenting so that I can share it with you...or anyone you know who happens to be besotted by the dual obsessions of Knitting & Iceland.
Now back to packing. Don't worry I am bringing an extra duffel, one can never underestimate the amount of yarn you might need to bring home!