America...When Last I Left You

Gullfoss Waterfall.

An American Abroad

(Reykjavik) - When I last returned to the United States after an international journey, it would have taken little more than a brush from a feather to keep me on the road indefinitely. I had been living out of a backpack for four months and had come to find it easy, inexpensive, challenging, and empowering.

Then the pandemic. Like many, in the early days, I thought it would pass, but one friend commented at the start that this was a moment in history that might change the world. I did not argue with her. When it was suggested we conduct our next meeting on Zoom, another friend answered, “What’s Zoom?”

Fifteen months later, I have cleared American airspace once again. My first destination is Iceland, an island nation in the middle of the North Atlantic where, this time of year, the sun sets at midnight and rises again two hours later.

Iceland has been in the news lately because of a volcano erupting near the capital of Reykjavik. Over the last few weeks I have been checking the daily reports on volcanic activity and, at last check, the eruption shows no signs of letting up.Tentatively, it’s my main stop on day three.

Most of Iceland’s land mass is barren, wild, and primordial. Given its location between Europe and North America, you would think it would be much more populated and developed. Perhaps the name keeps people from settling here. The architecture of the capital city is a mix of utilitarian industrial, and futuristic glass and steel that suggests the business world sees Iceland as a place of great promise.

Traveling on the way to Iceland is like using stepping stones to get across the North Atlantic. I flew from Boston along the coast of northern New England, into Canada, over the Gulf of St. Lawrence, between Labrador and St. John’s, skirted southern Greenland and landed in Reykjavik all in four and a half hours. Another ninety-minutes and I could have been in Scotland and then on to mainland Europe. Another reason Iceland’s lack of development is surprising.

The departure lounge of the international terminal at Logan Airport in Boston was quiet. There was only one restaurant open, because of Covid restrictions. With two hours to go before my flight, I had two choices for dinner: Cheese pizza or pizza with peppers and onions. I thought of my possible seat mate and chose cheese. It made no difference. The flight wasn’t full and I had a row to myself.

There is still pandemic unease among travelers. At the airport, everyone is wearing a mask, even though on the outside, most are maskless. There is a feeling the masks are mostly for show at this point, but everyone wants to be safe. Unlike my trip across the United States in December and January, I saw no one purposely flouting the mask rules as a form of protest.

I clutched my vaccination card tightly inside my passport. The airline check-in counter wanted to see it. The TSA did not. Most of my movements during the course of this trip will depend on that little white card. And I only have the one copy. What if I lose it? I have a picture of it on my cell phone, but I doubt any bureaucrat at any border I cross is going to accept a phone picture as a substitute for the actual card. How bad could things get if I am cardless? I wondered about the possibilities as a couple walked by me carrying two cheese pizzas.

When I got to Reykjavik, early on a Saturday morning, I needed to get a rapid test so the country of Iceland could be sure I did not pose a public health threat. Theoretically, I was supposed to report to my hotel and wait there until I was officially notified that it was safe for me to mix with the locals. But I had to pick up my rental car and I wasn’t allowed to check-in to my hotel for another eight hours. It is an imperfect system, here and everywhere else. In most countries however, the population understands the point. And the point has been, for the last year and a half, to stop the spread of the disease. We are all still working on it. There is always the possibility - the danger - nature will find a work around.

I landed in Iceland just a few days after President Biden returned home from a week long diplomatic trip to Europe. Iceland is part of Europe, but not part of the European Union. It relaxed its rules for international travel about a month ago. The EU has just announced it plans to open up to American travelers in a few weeks. Europe is hoping to salvage something of this year’s summer travel season after a devastating 2020. The U.S. has yet to make a similar decision, but is setting up a working group to coordinate with other countries, including Canada.

Iceland had only twenty-five deaths from Covid. To walk the streets of Reykjavik on a Saturday evening feels like you have passed through a time machine to February of 2019. Few people wear masks, because most are vaccinated. People are advised to keep their distance, but mostly, they don’t. As a matter of geography, Iceland is both distant and close and it is now among the first nations to emerge from a year of lockdown with a head start on everyone else.