Love notes from Siel is a monthly-ish newsletter from Siel, who used to live in Los Angeles but is currently traveling. If you love the notes, subscribe for free.
Dear friends —
Iceland scared me.
Or the idea of it did. When I was offered a writing residency in this nordic country last year, it had felt like a dream-come-true, but as the start date approached I grew nervous — because an email arrived from the residency coordinator with this warning:
The town of Skagaströnd is a small, rural fishing village on the edge of the sea along the north-western coastline of Iceland. It has a population of approx. 470 people. It is a remote place, so please be prepared in mind and materials.
Friends, I was not prepared in mind or materials. Despite the fact that my residency was in August, Iceland’s warmest month, I was to bring “gloves, thermal underwear, warm hats (that cover your ears), scarf, waterproof/ windproof outerwear/coat/jacket and waterproof shoes or boots” — none of which I owned. Plus, I already knew I tended to get depressed in certain environments — the kind with cold weather, or without access to a major city.
What had I been thinking, signing up to spend a month in a cold, isolated town?
Well, Iceland, as you may have heard, is very beautiful — which is why so many tourists make the trip to this far-flung destination. I landed in Reykjavik a few days early to take tours and see the sights. I watched a geyser spew, soaked in a geothermal spring, snuck behind a gigantic waterfall, strolled down a black sand beach, saw my first glacier.
Then I made my way up to the residency with trepidation.
Getting to Skagastrond is not easy. You really have to arrive in Reykjavik at least a day before so on the following day you can take a series of buses — the last of which only runs if you make a special advance reservation.
Fortunately, all the buses arrived on time and were comfortable — and throughout the journey I looked out at beautiful vistats with horses and cows and sheep, grazing peacefully on green meadows.
Unfortunately, I got food poisoning from the chicken wrap I bought at a pit stop.
The vomiting didn’t start until after I arrived, but it turned the beginning of the residency into a blur. Thirty hours later I felt human again — enough so to assess my situation. I found myself in a modest, sparsely furnished room with a little IKEA lamp on a night stand. It was nine p.m. but still bright out — the sun still hadn’t set — and the weather was cold, colder than Reykjavik, with temperatures in the 40s to low 50s.
To keep myself occupied I put myself on a fairly strict schedule. Mornings, I spent writing, or more accurately, unwriting — during my stay I ended up cutting a mid-length novel down to a 35,000-word novella. In the afternoons I took long walks. There wasn’t much to see or do in the town itself — one grocery store, one gym, one swimming pool with a geothermally heated hot tub — but I met the other dozen or so residents, all Americans, save one Canadian and two Germans, creating interesting work.
I also learned a lot about Iceland! Did you know that:
While Iceland has been around a while — its first Norwegian inhabitants settled in the ninth century — it’s still a newish country, only fully separating from Denmark in 1944?
Iceland’s known for its gender-equitable culture? I found this out from Secrets of the Sprakkar: Iceland’s Extraordinary Women and How They Are Changing The World — penned by none other than Iceland’s president’s wife Eliza Reid, originally from Canada.
Iceland runs on 100% green energy — hydroelectric and geothermal. Most of the cars, however, run on gas.
Iceland’s obesity rate is higher than the U.S.’s —, but Icelanders live longer.
The population of Iceland is still fewer than a half million!
What I really fell in love with were Icelandic movies. Mostly set in small, beautiful towns, these fims tend to be about quiet yet rich lives lived in tiny communities. The Swan, for example, stars a nine-year-old girl who’s sent to live with relatives in the countryside for a summer — during which she learns about love, writing, sex, death, and a lot more. A White, White Day features Ingvar Eggert Sigurðsson as a depressed widow who suspects his late-wife had an affair before her death — and decides to conduct a dangerous investigation.
I also loved getting to discover Icelandic literature — though a lot of it is rather depressing? My favorite novel was Hotel Silence, a beautiful story about a man contemplating suicide. The ending is both sad and happy —
Iceland’s natural beauty really is striking. I had a hard time, however, adjusting to the cold and windy weather up north. Two weeks in, I came down with a massive migraine. I started getting scared I might sink into depression myself.
So for now I’m back in Barcelona. More about that soon —
Love,
Siel
Three links you might love:
Here’s the preview for The Swan — free to watch for L.A. library card holders via Kanopy:
And here’s the trailer for A White, White Day — also free to watch on Kanopy:
An Icelandic town goes all out to save baby puffins. In the town of Heimaey, rescuing wayward pufflings has become an annual month-long event.