I was in Reykjavik for a whirlwind three day trip with my sister. It was during the depths of winter where the country toggles to dark mode for about eighteen hours a day. The trip itself was sandwiched between a winter Christmas in Scotland and a few balmy months in Mexico. Speaking of sandwiches, they’re expensive, like everything else in Iceland, even baked beans on toast.
You’d think eighteen hours of nightfall each day would offer good odds of seeing the magical Northern Lights, a sight that draws many, from around the world. Alas, bullet hail, hormonal gale and wind with teeth are unfortunately a likely derailment to outdoor plans. And so, due to a stubborn blizzard, all our booked and then re-booked outdoor activities and reasons for visiting this small expensive Nordic nation were quashed. While New Year’s Eve, our final night in Reykjavik was left unscathed for us to enjoy.
I had read about the specific NYE schedule in Iceland a few months prior. The itinerary was peculiar. First, visit one of the famed city bonfires, then scuttle back home to watch a very specific TV show, before finally heading once more to watch an epic fireworks display. All in sub-zero arctic temperatures. It was unusual and intriguing- a must do.
Icelandics are pyromaniacs. They like fire a lot and in a land of ice who can really blame them? It’s less surprising then, that they like their bonfires big. Not quaint campfire on the beach big. Daenerys Targaryen wandering into the flames to grab her avo eggs big!
Attending one of these bonfires is the sizzling entree on the new years eve menu. Due to their enormous size, they’re built in predesignated safe spots, usually an empty field. There were about eight of them across Reykjavick. As Odin would have it, one of these eight sites was a field just behind our hostel, which was very fortunate as we hadn’t hired a car. I would definitely recommend hiring car, especially if visiting in the Summer or for a period longer than 3 days. It’s a picture perfect road trip weather and a great way to see the country on your own time.
We ventured out in our thermals, puffer jackets, woolly hats and with a cheeky bottle whisky that cost a small fortune in our pocket. We made our way down the snowy path towards the fireball in the distance.
Icelandic bonfires truly are magnificent. The sheer size and height of the flames make you feel tiny and insignificant. The heat put out is enough to keep the crowd of people at least a good twenty meters back from the flames. An invisible warm Darwinian halo separates flesh from flame for the night. There were a hundred or so people gathered around the larger than life flame. At times it did feel a bit cult-y, like we should have brought a drum and an unsuspecting sacrificial goat. Fortunately for the goat, the vibe is more Bunnings sausage sizzle. Jovial, relaxed and very family friendly, complete with the family dog in attendance. People chat away with friends, kids run around and try to maim each other and hurl rocks or discarded pieces of wood into the flames. It’s all very wholesome.
It’s difficult not to feel a little hypnotized by the pseudo sun grounded in front of you. The flickering gold is quite enchanting and it’s easy to fall into a trance being mesmerized by it. There is an intoxicating pull to move closer and closer. I see you moths of the world and I appreciate your struggle. Every now and again the spell would be broken by a loud crash as the fire’s wooden skeleton would buckle under the heat and pressure, then collapse to the ground like hellish jenga.
Nothing really happens at the bonfire, people just sort of mill around for a bit, taking it all in. There are some fireworks but this is only practice for what’s to come later. After people have had enough fire bathing, they start to dissipate and head back to their homes. They’re not leaving because they’ve had enough or are turning in for an early night. They’re leaving for a reason. To get home to watch Áramótaskaup.
Aramostaskaup starts at 7:30pm every new years eve. It is a TV special that’s sort of a comedy sketch that covers the year in review. It’s immensely popular in Iceland and everyone watches it. It’s like the Superbowl but with cheaper ad spots and Tom Brady doesn’t get any rings. Aromotaskaup (pronounced arom-moo-tah-skeep) satirizes politicians, business leaders, Icelandic culture, international events and cultural trends that have clearly dominated Icelandic headlines through out the year. It’s a great cultural lens on issues of the world.
The year I watched it they satirized former Danish right wing politician Pia Kjaersguard’s visit to Iceland. Kjaersguard’s doppelganger in the sketch, speaks in a ridiculously hyperbolic potato-in-the-mouth Danish accent and seems obsessed with white people. Another segment focuses on an immigrant worker who complains to his colleague that he can barely pay his rent and is considering living in his car, despite being given a generous pay rise recently. He will now be earning $NZD 2.11 an hour. His colleague remarks that he “used to be a brain surgeon back home right?!”
In another segment, the CEO of WOW airlines is seen desperately trying to sell the airline to pedestrians on the street. A clear indication that the airline I had flown in on a mere three days earlier, was clearly in financial turmoil. There were also segments making fun of the outlandishness of gender reveal parties, keto diets and male corporate executives who struggle to decode what constitutes sexual harassment in the workplace, including one being dumbfounded that placing one’s genitalier in the drink a woman is holding, could be woke-ishly be misinterpreted as sexual harassment.
Our hostel was playing Aramotaskaup in one of the lounges. The poor girl rostered on to reception on NYE didn’t want to miss it herself and was generous enough to take the time to pause the show, translate the Icelandic and try her best to provide the backstory to the jokes. She was chuckling so it clearly hit the mark. I watched it again months later with english subtitles and it was even funnier the second time around. I would very much recommend it, even if you have no plans to ever visit Iceland. Funny as hell content.
After the show finishes, it’s time to head back out onto the cold streets and watch the mother of all dragons’ fireworks display. Like the bonfires, there are a few popular spots to view them. We headed to Hallgrimskirkja Church (yes all the places sound like this here) in downtown Reykjavik. It’s also within walking distance to the bars and restaurants, if you feel the need to continue the festivities into the wee small hours.
I had read online that it was worthwhile buying protective gear to shield yourself from fireworks. I did initially consider this quite earnestly, but then felt it was a bit excessive, like stumbling onto a tourist web platform advising the use of walking poles along mission bay. I didn’t want to be that person. Hindsight is a virtue it seems, I wish I’d invested in a Hazmat suit.
It wasn’t that the fireworks were unruly or were hand held like an Indian Diwali celebration. They just didn’t seem to evaporate into the atmosphere soon enough on decent. A minor but rather critical issue. It was raining tiny embers after every display. My scarf had singe holes in it that night as did my coat. It really was sheer luck my retinas weren’t suffering the same fate. Dignity be damned, I recommend at a bare minimum wearing your shades for protection even if it’s 11pm at night, because eyes are nice.
FOMO dogs were out in force with their respective families too. You’ll be relieved to hear, barely any of them batted a dog ear as the fireworks cracked and popped in the sky. Clearly they’d become culturally used to the loud bangs over time. Much unlike the tourists who were constantly jumping out of their skins and brushing down the embers off their sleeves. I like to think the more anxious pets are safely stowed at home listening to Bjork on full blast drowning out the cracks and bangs.
After midnight ticks over and the sky returns to still darkness, the crowds disperse, back home they go. Others continue on to the bars and keep the party going. For us however, we wanted to snuggle back into our hostel beds and slumber for our last few hours in Iceland before boarding what would be one of the ever diminishing WOW airline flights back to London.