Iceland Journals: Choosing Courage
Day 1 (5/6)
Today, I write the first of what will be a series of reflections on this trip from a beach campsite on the southwest coast of Iceland. It’s been a day packed full of emotion and insight, even though I haven’t gone very far down Ring Road yet. The first day I spend on any trip is what I like to call my “settle in” day of travel, which often consists of intentionally setting aside time to adapt when I arrive in a new place. I don’t plan on any sight-seeing or activities, instead opting to set aside time for wandering, finding my way around, and letting the anxiety of being in a new place, in which I don’t know a soul or speak the language, settle. Taking it slow is a luxury I allow myself, especially for longer trips. I’ve learned that the emotional toll of travel can otherwise feel overwhelming in those first few days. And because Cesare Pavese’s words echo this sentiment so beautifully, I can’t help but share one of my favorite travel quotes for the tougher days on the road: “Traveling is a brutality. It forces you to trust strangers and to lose sight of all that familiar comforts of home and friends. You are constantly off balance. Nothing is yours except the essential things — air, sleep, dreams, the sea, the sky — all things tending towards the eternal or what we imagine of it.”
Yesterday, I spent the day with Reba, one of my roommates from college and still one of my most cherished friends. Arriving in Chicago in the early hours of the morning to see sunrise and then spend the day with Reba and her husband, Patrick, was a heart-filling start to the adventure I know the next two weeks will be. We took obligatory pictures at the Bean, played mini-golf in Millennium Park, ambled along the Chicago Riverwalk, took an afternoon nap like we used to in our college days, had the best green tea ice cream at a cute little neighborhood shop near their home, but mostly, we did what best friends who haven’t seen each other in a while do — we talked and talked and talked, and still, there was so much more to talk about. Whenever I get the chance to see Reba, I always feel like it’s been too long, a sentiment which makes me equal parts sad to live so far from her and glad that we can be reminded of how fortunate we are to have known past versions of each other and to continue to know these present versions. After spending the day with Reba and Patrick, they drove me to the airport to catch my 11 pm flight out of Chicago. Having caught many trains, buses, and cabs to airports on my own, I’m especially thankful when friends and family are gracious enough to accompany me in that final stretch before I board the plane. To me, airport goodbyes are the perfect goodbyes. As sad as I may be to leave, I am buoyed by the anticipation of what’s to come, which makes leaving the people and places I love just a little bit easier. And so I tried to hold close to that anticipation as I said goodbye to my friend and embarked on the next adventure.
The flight from Chicago to Iceland takes six hours, short enough that if you tire yourself out from a day of roaming about Chicago and long conversations with your best friend, you fall to sleep swiftly and find yourself rather suddenly across an ocean and far, far away from home. In all honesty, the flight was over so quickly that I didn’t quite feel prepared to exit the plane and be thrust into two weeks of solo travel in a foreign country. In the last few weeks, as I’ve shared my plans for Iceland with friends, I’ve been told how “brave” it is to do this trip on my own and for such a long period. And while I recognize these as well-intentioned sentiments, I hope that this accounts of my travels in the next two weeks will reveal too that there are also moments and stretches when I don’t feel so brave and must find a way to contend with the fear, anxiety, and loneliness that I’m bound to encounter in the world and in myself. A while back, I learned of an important distinction between bravery and courage from a dear and wise friend. Bravery, according to most definitions, is the ability to endure or face unpleasant circumstances without showing and having fear, whereas courage is the ability to do that which frightens one in spite of fear and show strength in the face of difficult situations. Being brave is a matter of fact, but being courageous is a choice. And it’s in moments of facing our fears and overcoming them, I believe, that we learn not just to be brave, but to be courageous in confronting the deepest doubts and insecurities. Having lacked the words with which to describe what I wanted to get out of this trip before departing, I realize now that what I most hoped to gain were experiences which would prompt me to be courageous, not just in travel, but in life.
As I looped my arms in the single backpack I’d packed for the trip and marched out of the airport, I reminded myself that the reticence I now felt was an opportunity to practice courage. And I’d be needing quite a bit of courage, since my first challenge upon landing was to find a way of getting from the airport to the car rental office where I would pick up my transportation and accommodation for the weeks to come. When booking the car pick-up from the rental office, located only an 8 minute drive from the airport, the distance had seemed short, but now, jet-lagged and bleary-eyed, I questioned the decision to trek nearly three miles to the office. About twenty minutes into my walk, my doubt only grew as flecks of hail rained down on me out of what had literally just moments before been a blue sky. As with most decisions that you begin to regret, though, there was no turning back, not on the side of the road, too far from the airport to return and too far from the rental office to see an end in sight. It was during my stubborn trudge forward in the hail that a car pulled to the stretch of road in front of me. Inside was a gentle-eyed man named Miki, who rolled down his window and exclaimed, I can’t believe no one’s picked you up! I hadn’t considered hitching a ride until then, but was frankly more than happy to take up his offer to drive me four minutes down the road. On the short ride to the office, Miki jovially shared me with that one can experience all four seasons in Iceland in just fifteen minutes, and I couldn’t help but agree with him. As it turns out, he also knew the owners of the car rental agency and came into the office with me, greeting them in Icelandic. Though I can’t be sure of what was exchanged in their native tongue, I wouldn’t be surprised if he commented on the silliness of the girl that stood before them, drenched and cold from walking on the side of the road in the middle of a hailstorm. Before he left, Miki turned and said to me in English, Have a safe trip, brave girl. I laughed a little because I certainly didn’t feel brave in that moment, perhaps instead a little foolhardy, but thanked him all the same for his kindness.
Returning to the task at hand, I proceeded to retrieve my rental car and was told that it had already been rented out and I’d be upgraded to a larger 4x4 car. Most people, upon hearing this, would likely be delighted to hear that they’re receiving a better car, but having only learned how to drive months ago, I thought instead about how much larger a Toyota RAV4 would be in comparison to the tiny Kia I’d intended to rent. Still, the upside to this unexpected change was more room for sleeping and with no other option but to move forward, I nervously pulled out of the parking lot. It should be noted here that this drive was the first time ever that I had driven in a car alone and the anxiety I felt pulling onto the highway toward Reykjavik was palpable. I thought to myself, what in the world made you think that you could come here and drive a car all by yourself for two weeks? What if something happens to the car and you’re stuck on the side of the road on your own? Why are there so many roundabouts in Iceland?! And there were many roundabouts, probably about 15 just to get from the airport to Reykjavik. By the time I pulled into a grocery store parking lot forty-five minutes later, I was thoroughly exhausted, mostly from anxiously gripping the steering wheel and more close calls than I care to recall. I felt like a wreck, but again, there was no turning back, not in the middle of Iceland with no other means of transportation to get around the country, so I unbuckled the seat belt, marched into the lone Costco in Iceland, and stocked up on groceries for my trip around Ring Road. After half an hour of meandering around the comfortingly familiar aisles of Costco, I felt a little calmer and more able to continue on in my journey. By now, it was 5pm, and it was alright, I told myself, to head to a campsite for the night and forego what would surely be a stressful drive into Reykjavik. I decided first to make a stop to pump gas and pick up a gas burner for the camp stove I’d brought with me to cook. Even these small tasks were challenges, as I’d pumped gas only twice in my entire life and had never used a gas burner before. Not for the first time that day, I felt a wave of anxiety and despair. I’d come all this way to feel strong and I was so very far from feeling anything close. I didn’t feel like the brave world traveler my friends might have thought me to be as I asked for help in selecting the right kind of gas for my car and learned how to use a trigger lock when pumping gas, nor when I asked for help yet again in the gas station to make sure the camping stove I brought with me on the trip was compatible with the burners. I felt lost and helpless, two things I’m unaccustomed to feeling at home, but would likely feel often in the next two weeks. I’d come all this way to grow and challenge myself, but hadn’t imagined that the challenges would be so constant and that growth could feel so disconcerting. Weary already from my first hours in Iceland, I was now ready to head to the campsite and start anew the next day, and only 150 km and an hour and a half of driving stood in my way. So I got back in the car, took a deep breathe, and went on my way.
In the first half an hour driving out of the greater Reykjavik area, I felt much of the same anxiety I’d experienced driving to the grocery store and probably embodied every stereotype of a terrible female Asian driver. After driving out of the city, I noticed that there were no other cars in view and could consciously feel the tension from my shoulders melt away. Out on the long and blissfully barren stretch of Ring Road, I could drive imperfectly without worrying about hurting or inciting other drivers, and the knowledge that there was not a soul around to judge brought me some much-needed respite. It was only when driving away from Reykjavik that I felt my journey in Iceland had begun. The further away I got from the city, the more at peace I felt and the more beautiful Iceland seemed to be, with majestic mountains to one side of the road and an expanse of blue ocean to the other. I felt in that moment that I had finally arrived.
By the time I rolled into the campsite, located by the sea near the Strandarkirkja (translating to Beach Church in Icelandic), a popular church on the coast to visit, I felt the lightest I’d felt all day. I took some time to explore, roaming about the campsite and surrounding beach. At around 8pm, I cooked myself a dinner of pasta with baked beans, not the best meal I’ve every prepared for myself, but absolutely delectable in the way that even the simplest meals are when you’ve been on the road all day. Finally, I set up the car for an early night’s rest, rolling out the sleeping mat and bag I’d borrowed for the trip. As I tucked into my sleeping bag for the night, I thought about the many highs and lows I’d already encountered, still feeling a little overwhelmed by the challenges of the day and those of the days to come. I tried too to reflect on the triumphs that had come with those challenges. While it may not sound like a lot to some, I had somewhat successfully driven myself around all day, the most gargantuan of the challenges I’d personally set for myself on this trip. I’d also bought most of the groceries I would need for the trip, cooked a meal for myself, and made good progress along Ring Road. I’d gotten myself to the campsite in one piece, with the help of those kind people I’d encountered throughout the day. Out of my comfort zone and without access to internet or friends, I’d had to ask for help from various strangers throughout the day, which isn’t the easiest thing for most of us to do, and what I found on the other side of that discomfort was more compassion and kindness than I dared to believe. It had been a long day, but I was glad to be right where I was. Despite, or perhaps precisely because of the many hurdles I’d encountered throughout the day, I felt a sense of peace and quiet conviction that no matter what I would encountered, I would not only be alright, but I would be graced with opportunities to choose courage.
These self-proclaimed Iceland Journals are a collection of journal entries written during my two-week solo trip to Iceland, one for each day of the adventure. In brief, I booked a spontaneous solo trip to Iceland, decided to rent a car to drive around and live out of for two weeks, packed a single backpack to carry with me, and you’ll have to read on to see how the rest of the the adventure plays out! This Medium series, kept in close form to the original entries written during my trip, portrays the day-by-day lived experience and my personal takeaways from stepping out of my comfort zone, the lessons I learn as a result of what my parents would call somewhat questionable decision-making, and the people I met along the way. I hope you’ll get something from reading these sometimes indulgent, often spur-of-the-moment reflections, and this series inspires you to seek out discomfort in every facet of life, build community wherever you are and whomever you’re with, and fulfill the truest expression of yourself in everything you do.
To follow the rest of the journey:
Day 1: Choosing Courage
Day 2: From Strangers to Friends
Day 3: Highs and Lows
Thanks for reading — claps, comments, and shares are much appreciated!