Generally speaking, I’d rather be at a house party with friends on New Year’s Eve because people are so focused on party party party that they don’t enjoy the moment, and dinners out are usually bad food for triple the normal price. That said, when visiting another country for a celebration, it’s better to take the advice of locals and do what they say. Our GGG (gay guide Gudni) from Pink Iceland suggested we join them for their NYE celebration, and boy am I glad we did!—–
The Atlanta Poodles already realized we really liked Gudni from our trip the day before to the Golden Circle, so we knew we were in good hands. We had spent the previous three days out on glaciers, in ice caves, by ice-strewn black sand beaches, below and above enormous waterfalls, and beside geysers as they spewed, all in the chill of the blowing wind and snow. So we were prepared for the cold. It had been so overcast there had been no chance of seeing the Northern Lights, so we resigned ourselves to the notion that might not happen on this trip.—–
The first stop was a bonfire by the water. Right across from Björk’s house they set up a giant pile of wooden pallets about 20 feet high, and the firemen set it ablaze. One rarely sees the fire brigade adding fuel to a fire, but that night we did! The fire started raging, and we were warmed by the hot cocoa with Bailey’s that GGG was serving. People started shooting off fireworks, which are totally unregulated here. There is no public display. The public just shoots them off, having bought them from the search and rescue team of Iceland; it’s a fundraiser. —–
Fireworks were going off, and the night sky was clear as a bell. We could see lots of stars despite the city lights of Reykjavik. Just as the fire was roaring at its maximum, we looked up and saw two streaks of green in the sky. They slowly changed, morphing into a ribbon that waved like curtain fabric. The ribbon expanded and split and swirled until it looked like a half heart in parts, a green ethereal smoke that was hard to believe. It was sort of like the faint beginning when a neon light starts to glow. It’s exactly the same idea: oxygen and nitrogen molecules in the upper atmosphere being excited by solar radiation, sending their electrons to higher levels in their Heisenbergian likelihoods and Schrodingerian clouds, and sending us into a tizzy because we could hardly believe our eyes. I have truly been waiting my entire adult life to see this with my own eyes, and it was as awe-inspiring as I had hoped. My heart felt so full, and I wept.—–
We left the bonfire for a really lovely dinner at a restaurant called KOL. Quite apart from uninspired menus, their prix fixe menu was delicious and local and surprising. I had the vegetarian option while others tried local duck and reindeer and any manner of fishes. We drank a Sauterne that was as light and crisp as a Semillon or New Zealand Sauvignon blanc. Delightful!—–
From there, GGG led us to the main event, the fireworks extravaganza at the main church in Reykjavik. Crowds were lined up on the street, and he led us through them to a spot right beside the church with several large circles cleared out for the serious fireworks. The owners of Pink Iceland had bought tons of fireworks and brought champagne for us. When I say serious fireworks, I mean the kind that you have to have a pipe to shoot out of. Rockets basically. We each got to fire off one of the big ones, and they shot way high up before blowing up in 1 or 2 impressive stages. They also had boxes of fireworks that shot off one right after another in a chain, with 25 or 36 per box. This was going on all around us. Multiply our fireworks by a thousand, and you get the entire display, going off right above our heads, some only 20 or 30 feet above us. (We had safety goggles, and booze, so don’t worry–what could go wrong?) When we got close to midnight, the spectacle was continuous, fireworks never letting up for about 20 minutes solid, exploding with such chaos that I couldn’t help but laugh with joy (and a tiny bit of fear). There were only 5 injuries reported this year. One of the owner’s father got hit in the forehead with one, but his wound was very minor. I’ve never in my life seen such a wild display, and the best part was that everyone got to have a part in it.—–
The other highlight of the night was my midnight kiss. A very handsome Australian man named Matt had joined us the day before on our tour, and he asked me if he could share a kiss at midnight with me. He’s such a sweet and kind and sexy man, and his asking was one of the things that made it so tender. It’s great to have someone special to kiss at midnight, and he is indeed quite special.—–
The Icelanders party hard most weekends, and NYE takes that to an extreme. We were invited to an incredible house party at two of the Pink Iceland owners’ apartment, and the drinking and fun continued. I met many great people, including other travelers and locals. Everyone was warm and friendly and fun, not to mention well educated and informed. What a terrific bunch of people. —–
Best. New Year’s Eve. Ever.
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