The Tropical North

Reykjavík is the northern most capital in the world, or so we're told.

With unpredictable and sometimes violently fierce weather patterns in winter, our hyperbolic expectations for summer - the only benign season the north has to offer - soothe a body aching for but a brief intermission from the storm.

The Icelandic winter can be hostile with its long months of darkness when the hours of daylight are few, especially during the holiday season and in the new year. Extravagant light displays decorate the city and lend magic to the black night that reigns, and if we're lucky, the white snow adds a bit of sparkle to our life.

Despite the cold, we venture on foot to the city centre and nurture our bodies and soul with the holiday spirit. Then comes January, the longest and cruelest month of the year for no fault of its own. On January 7, illustrious Christmas lights are turned off and once again, darkness prevails.

Then comes spring. Spring is the most unreliable season of all four - we know from bitter experience that spring is spring for namesake only...

Autumn however is a season, more often than not, true to nature. Cool rain and loud wind are expected to come knocking and we are not that surprised when the first signs begin to appear in August. We are pleasantly surprised if September continues to bring beautiful sunny days past the prime of summer.

... 

We know for a fact that no one comes to Iceland for the weather so divulging the facts is no crime.

But sometimes, when we least expect it, Mother Nature surprises even the most pessimistic locals with an unexpected summer surprise.

A week ago, on July 20 such a moment came out of nowhere and took me by surprise. The moment it happened I was walking down Laugavegur (the curious shopping strip in Reykjavík's city centre) and very much lost in a moment of self-reflection.

I'd been struck by a sudden realisation as walked down the mild slope down Laugavegur and creative ideas were beginning to take shape. Then came the shower, a rain that poured down in a linear fall almost in a straight line from the gray cluster of clouds.

It was the perfect summer rain: warm but refreshing in the humid air and 17°C air temperature.

And what lovely rain it was!

Like a muse sent to me by Mother Nature, the city of Reykjavík revealed herself to me. To be more specific, she revealed her exoticism to me, a local resident with small town roots and yet an outsider in her own land... a local crammed into a life of abstinence from travels, as priorities are skewed by the sometimes harsh economic reality of a writer to succeed in the hunt for the perfect job, and so far without achieving much success.   

The temporarily entrapped traveler in me that conformed to native society with ease but constantly longing to be somewhere else - to journey the world from one end to another - all of a sudden felt perfectly at home.

The warm shower reminded me how despite my immobile traveling lifestyle, I am on a journey, a journey to re-discover my country again in spite of the obstacles along the way. To get to know Iceland as if it were new to me. And in so many ways it is.

The city of Reykjavík is still a stranger to me in more ways than one. So much changed while I excavated the world with my backpack and passport in hand. The monocultural little Iceland grew and expanded beyond my wildest expectations. New residents from all over the world have changed the city and made it a better place to live. Icelanders who left came back with a piece of the world to share.

After years of sticking my head in a pile of academic books, while my mind constantly drifted to other lands, I discovered at last the simple charms of my city and within awakened a longing to get to know her better. A city that is inspiring, beautiful and modest. A city exploding from the creative powers of her residents. An international city that makes up for her smallness with a big heart ready to embrace the whole world.

It took a downpour... a warm shower to clear my judgement... judgement previously clouded by the prejudice of my youth and perhaps of late, pragmatic disposition... to see the delightful Miss Reykjavík for the young and vibrant city she has become.

Thankfully, it's never too late to get started on a journey.

The warm shower inspired me to write about the journey, a journey I can only take in Iceland, and a journey that fuels my undying belief in the realisation of all my dreams.

After all, what is a traveler without dreams...?