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Sometimes I go on dates as a single woman in Chicago, and I like to travel to a lot of different countries and cities, often solo. Sometimes, visiting a country or city is like going on a date with a new boy.
My date with Iceland was like going on a date with a farmer viking man from a 1000 years ago that’s been brought to the future with a time machine, but has quickly gotten up to speed on the modern ways. Our time together was like a weekend away in a fairytale land that was his home, and he was unaware of how magical it was. He asked me why I was there, and what sort of things I wanted to do, and if I needed any help. He was tall and blonde and beautiful. He spoke with a subtle Scandinavian accent as he took me on a quick tour of the colourful capital. He was progressive and appreciative of the fluidity of sexuality and women’s rights, and was a gentlemen, as we bar hopped the happy hours, enjoying live music and fresh craft beers. He was kind to other tourists and we feasted on local specialties and enjoyed sunlight into the wee hours.
We drove out into the wide open spaces of the rest of the country, and hiked for waterfalls, and camped in our tent, and lazed in hot pots near glaciers and lava fields. We rode long haired horses on the beach, visited each coast, drove in and out of fjords, and chatted with other visitors about the beauty of the land. He showed me the power and glory of the earth as he told me this volcano may have caused the French Revolution, and thus greatly impacted history and life as we know it.
He took me out for a fancy dinner in the second largest town, and we camped in the center, and we met his friends that worked in the area, as wood carvers, and explorers of abandon houses, and puffin hunters, (and met the man who caught our meal). He liked to drink and we shouted ‘Skol!’ and warmed our bodies with blankets and liquor, as we sat on the patio and he gave me a cigarette. And then we went out dancing and it was suddenly 5 am and there was a rainbow and joints and more dancing. And he held me and caressed me and I was warm and welcomed. And we stood on the rocky shore, admiring ruins of old houses and lighthouses, and a whale said ‘hello.’
He showed me his cultured side, his countryside, his wild side. I love a seemingly simple man with many layers.
I don’t know when I will see him again, but I will forever remember our adventure, and like an old flame that got away, I hope we reunite again someday.