Neither mine nor other people’s prospects seem particularly pleasing just at the moment, and I have fantasies of going to Iceland, never to return. As it is, I tell myself not to remember the past,...

Wir sind alle ein bisschen gestorben in diesem Krieg, glaube ich. Wie meine Mutter immer gesagt hat. Krieg tötet alle, auch die, die ihn überleben.

The church trembled and the hail hammered the roof, but his words glided in the air, joyful and bright like the birds at the cliffs. They floated freely around one another without colliding and the...

There is no more sagacious animal than the Icelandic horse. He is stopped by neither snow, nor storm, nor impassable roads, nor rocks, glaciers, or anything. He is courageous, sober, and surefooted. He never makes...

Poem of the day 1. nóvember 2010:TunglskinOg vatnið starir, starir köldum augumá stirndan himin yfir bleikum tindum.Og inn í dalnum dökkir skuggar trjánna við dapra geilsa tunglsins stíga dans.Og yfir sandinn, langar óraleiðir, lýsir tunglið...

The fact that a cloud from a minor volcanic eruption in Iceland—a small disturbance in the complex mechanism of life on the Earth—can bring to a standstill the aerial traffic over an entire continent is...

The problem with driving around Iceland is that you’re basically confronted by a new soul-enriching, breath-taking, life-affirming natural sight every five goddamn minutes. It’s totally exhausting.

That we leave our homes, that we step through our doors to the world, that we travel our whole lives not because we want to collect exotic T-shirts, not because we want to consume foreign...