I fly too much, but I never get tired of the views. This particular trip was like an American West highlight reel: flying into San Francisco, out of Denver, in and out of the Pacific Northwest. But the extraordinary part of the trip was the last leg through the north: Canada, the North Atlantic, Greenland, and Iceland. The scenery was otherworldly and spectacular, and it saturated me with enough mountain views to last for at least a few months.
Here are some of my favorite sky/sea/land + wing shots from the trip, followed by some glimpses of Reykjavik from my cruelly short layover.
Near Denver. "Did you get any mountains in that shot?" my seatmate asked me, "otherwise it looks just like Kansas." Well, yes.
Here are a few, clawing up suddenly from flat earth.
Views of Harbor Island, West Seattle, Puget Sound, and the dim silhouette of the Olympic Mountains. Still beautiful.
Alpine lakes in the Cascades.
The Canadian Rockies, looking eerie and ferocious.
More peaks. It was around here that I saw another commercial jet shoot past us going in the opposite direction. It made my heart race to see another plane sharing our altitude and going incredibly fast.
The sun was faster than us, but only barely. We chased the sunset coming and going for hours.
Approaching Greenland.
One enormous ice skating arena.
Greenlandic peaks and glacial melt.
Close-up of glacial melt. As awful as it is it was spectacular to see.
Ocean and heavens.
Now with clouds.
Engaging landing gear and wing flaps (not the technical term).
Flying over scattered farmhouses and black volcanic soil on the coast of Iceland
Downtown Reykjavik, a city only slightly larger than Odense, but with a slightly more impressive harbor.
Cute and cold. I'm sold.
Those last two shots were courtesy of the panoramic view at Hallgrimskirkja, a church reportedly designed to mimic the basalt lava flows responsible for much of Iceland's landscape.
I thought it was rather grand, especially with the statue of Leif Eriksson presiding over the entrance.
Given that Eriksson was supposedly the first European to land in North America I was disappointed that his stare was not directed due East. Instead he was looking in the general direction of Greenland, perhaps lamenting his son Thorgils' failure to ingratiate himself to the natives.
Not a bad view though, especially with all those cheery colors.
Just down the street I found 12 Tonar, a music shop recommended by my wonderful friend Elisha. I suspect the place is at least 50% responsible for Reykjavik's thriving music scene. While they sell a whole range of music they clearly focus on promoting local artists. The friendly owner encouraged me to sit for a spell and offered a complimentary (and not half bad) espresso.
Several of the CD's (yes, they still exist) I took into the listening room were on 12 Tonar's own label. I used about half of the krona I had allotted myself to take a few home (Samaris and Low Roar, in case you're curious).
The old city is charmingly and eminently walkable. Behind this older building (with characteristic aluminum siding) you can see much newer high-rise condos.
A bookstore window. Unfortunately because it was a Sunday most of the shops were closed.
Disturbing cat candles. Like I wasn't going to notice those.
Yep, still wearing the hat.
I just thought this name was totally metal.
A vintage shop with resident cat. Like I wasn't going to go in there.
By the time I arrived home in Denmark the sun was setting. See you next time mountains. Stay cool. Oh, and GET YOURSELF ONE OF THOSE ICELANDIC LAYOVERS PEOPLE! I can't wait to go back.
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