Granny’s Gone CouchSurfing – to Iceland…
Picture… The Blue Lagoon.
“Just to warn you,” I announce at family Sunday lunch, “I won’t be around for baby sitting duties for a while; I’ve started a blog, ‘Granny’s Gone CouchSurfing’ and next weekend will be my first trip…to Iceland!”
I laugh at their bemused expressions: “Darlings, don’t worry! Everyone gets verified and no money is involved; CouchSurfing is safe – noble even, it’s aim is: ‘to create meaningful connections between ordinary people’,” nothing bad will happen.
My Iceland Express flight lands in Reykjavík in bright sunshine – which feels odd, as it’s 10pm. The bus ride into town passes through an otherworldly, bleak expanse of treeless, lava field; but as we approach the suburbs the scene livens up. People are still out – with children too, making the most of their summer I suppose, where the sun sets near midnight then rises around 3am.
Anya is my CouchSurfing host; she’s a kindergarten teacher, mid-forties. She says with a rueful smile, “I’m still single sad to say. ” My ‘couch’ is a chaise longue in the corner of the living room, “You might want to use the blinds as it doesn’t get dark”, she says.
Despite the lateness of the hour, Anya cheerfully suggests supper at the Café Paris in town. Reykjavik’s small town centre has that European, pavement café buzz that I love and, I reflect, what’s missing in London. All generations are here: parents with toddlers, canoodling youths, the elderly – as well as the familiar, cool singles’ crowd.
Over supper Anya explains that Reykjavík means ‘smoky bay’ because here the earth’s hot crust is close to the surface. Steam from subterranean water, is heated by volcanic energy which escapes through natural vents. Nowadays it’s piped into homes for heat. Icelanders also enjoy low-cost power from hydro-electricity generated by waterfalls.
Next morning it’s Saturday so she doesn’t have to work. “Let’s drive out to the Blue Lagoon.” She suggests. For tourists wanting ‘wow factor’ – this is it: a capacious, unearthly looking, blue warm lake. We wade in and head straight for the floating bar for a glass of champagne. A sign reads: ‘Three glasses maximum per person’!
Later, back in town, over supper in the fascinating Laundromat Café, I mention to Anya that I’d read reports of Reykjavik’s recent ‘pots and pans revolution’ and ask her for an insider’s view. “Well,” she says, “for many weeks almost everyone took part in the demonstrations outside our Parliament (the Althing). We bashed our message to the politicians on our saucepans to let them know how upset we were at the IMF demands that ordinary Icelanders must pay for the (2008) bank crash. Meanwhile, the bankers who’d gambled away everyone’s savings, (including ours) had fled!”
She went on: “Eventually, a referendum was held and 93% of our population voted No! Our Government fell and the news went viral.” Thoughtfully she adds, “One good result seems to be that tourism has increased.” I chip in, “Yes, I think there are many who, like me, saw it as plucky little Iceland standing up to the big bad global banks: that’s what brought me here – and I’ll certainly be back!”
Anya beams, “There we are, CouchSurfing plus solidarity tourism, both helping with Iceland’s cultural and economic recovery – who’d have thought!” End
Granny's Gone CouchSurfing 
Tag: CouchSurfing Iceland…(800 words excluding headers and footers.)
“Just to warn you,” I announce at family Sunday lunch, “I won’t be around for babysitting duties for a while; I’ve started a travel blog, ‘Granny’s Gone CouchSurfing’ and next weekend will be my first trip…to Iceland!”
Laughing at their bemused expressions, I reassure them: “Darlings, don’t worry! Everyone who registers on the website is verified and no money is involved; CouchSurfing is safe… noble even, it aims: ‘to create meaningful connections between ordinary people while travelling’, nothing bad will happen.”
A young American idealist started CouchSurfing in the 1990s. Now, it has 5 million members worldwide. The website allows potential CouchSurfers and hosts to coordinate with other community members and, importantly, to record feedback from hosts about their guests and visa versa: problems are rare.
My Iceland Express flight lands in Keflavik near Reykjavik in bright sunshine – which feels odd, as it’s 10pm. The bus into town passes through an otherworldly, bleak expanse of treeless, lava fields. As we approach the suburbs, the scene livens up. Families are out, making the most of their summer, where the sun sets near midnight then rises around 3am. I learn later that the long dark winter months in Iceland are full of celebration too with streets, cafes and homes using pretty lighting to keep gloomy spirits at bay.
Anya is my CouchSurfing host; she’s a kindergarten teacher, single and in her mid-forties. My ‘couch’ is a chaise longue in her living room, “You might want to use the blinds as it doesn’t get dark,” she says, then adds, “Do you mind the cat? The cat flap is in the door behind the blinds.” Anya notices my look of concern as I’ve never seen such a large cat. She laughs, “Don’t worry, he’s a gentle giant since he was neutered. He’s a Norwegian forest cat… hence his size.”
Despite the late hour, Anya cheerfully suggests supper at Café Paris. “We’ll drive around a bit then pick up my friend Birgitta as she wants to meet you.” Like Anya, Birgitta speaks perfect English… Anya tells me that everyone does. From the back seat of the car Birgitta is bright and chatty with many questions about London where she’s planning to go soon for the first time. She tells me she works in the billing section of Reykjavik’s District Heating office. With much enthusiasm Birgitta informs me of a plan her company has to install an undersea 700-mile cable. It will send electricity generated from geothermal sources from Iceland to the UK, via Scotland.
Reykjavik’s small town centre has that European, pavement café buzz that I love and, I reflect, is what’s missing in London. All generations are out enjoying the evening: parents with toddlers, canoodling youths, the elderly… as well as the familiar, cool singles’ crowd. /Ctnd…
2. Tag: CouchSurfing Iceland
Over supper I prompt Anya and Birgitta to explain more about Iceland’s energy system. They explain that Reykjavík means ‘smoky bay’ because the earth’s hot crust is close to Iceland’s surface meaning that steam from the subterranean water, heated by volcanic energy, escapes through natural vents (fumaroles). Since the first oil crisis in the 1970’s it was decided to stop relying on oil and coal imports and expand the geothermal opportunity nature provided. District heating systems were built to pipe water from hot wells into everyone’s homes. Icelanders also enjoy cheap power from hydroelectricity generated by waterfalls.
Next morning is Saturday so Anya doesn’t have to work. “Let’s drive out to the Blue Lagoon.” She suggests. For tourists wanting ‘wow factor’ this is it: a capacious, unearthly, warm blue lake. We wade in and head to the floating bar for champagne. A sign reads: ‘Three glasses maximum per person’!
Later, back in town, over supper in the fascinating Laundromat Café, (yes, there are washing machines in the basement and a kid’s playroom) I mention to Anya that I’d read about Reykjavik’s 2008 bank crash protest, dubbed the ‘pots and pans revolution’ and ask for an insider’s view. “Well,” she says, “For many weeks almost everyone took part in demonstrations outside our Parliament (the Althing). We bashed on our saucepans to let the politicians know how upset we were at the demands that ordinary Icelanders pay for the bank crash. Meanwhile, the bankers who’d gambled away everyone’s savings, (including ours) had fled!”
She continued: “Eventually, a referendum was held. 93% of our population voted No! Our Government fell and the news went viral.” Thoughtfully she adds, “One good result seems to be that tourism has increased.” I chip in, “Yes, I think many, like me, saw it as plucky little Iceland standing up to the big global banks: that’s what brought me here – and I’ll certainly be back!”
Anya beams, “There we are, CouchSurfing plus solidarity tourism, both helping with Iceland’s cultural and economic recovery – who’d have thought!” End
NB: I have received permission by email to use the brand name CouchSurfing for my story.