Our last full day in Iceland, we left Akureyri behind and headed back down south to Reykjavik.

Julia rode with us as far as Hvammstangi, and we returned her to the same spot we’d picked her up at two days previous, the Icelandic Seal Center. Along the two or three hour drive to her destination, Haider snoozed in the back seat while Julia and I shared some intimate conversations about love, relationships, priorities, and staying true to oneself. One of my favorite things about travel is how quickly you open yourself up to the new friends you meet along the way.

We left Julia to the seals, exchanged hugs and well wishes, and got back on the road. Haider and I were quiet and contemplative, just gazing at the landscapes sliding by through the car windows. We saw two or three rainbows and a couple of waterfalls, but we lacked the energy to stop. It was our last day in Iceland — a jarring feeling. At some point, the trip had switched over from having barely begun to being nearly over and I’d totally missed that mile marker.

Stranger still: though we were retracing our path back to Reykjavik, and would return to the same airport from which we arrived, we’d be heading the opposite direction of home as we left the island behind. I always take comfort at the end of a vacation in knowing that at least it’ll be nice to return to my cozy house and snuggle with my cats on the couch, and for a little while, relish in the simple pleasures of being back home.

 But we didn’t have a home anymore. We were continuing into a new unknown.

 Back in Reykjavik, we relaxed at Ryan and Joe’s apartment for a few hours, then headed out to explore a little more of the city.

We walked along the harbor, seeing the ships big and small, the sweet, colorful waterfront buildings, and the distant mountains across the fjord.

We visited the Harpa Concert Hall, an absolutely majestic work of architecture that was stunning from every angle.

We had a drink at the Laundromat Cafe, a bar that decorates almost entirely with old maps and shelves of pleasingly color-coded books.

We bought some postcards and curled up on window cushions at another cozy bar, reflecting on our journey and filling out the cards over pints of Einstok White Ale.

 And then we returned to the apartment, had some chocolate cake with our hosts (it was Ryan’s birthday), and called our last night a night.

 I hadn’t used it before because I wasn’t sure if I’d gotten the translation right. Though it’s typically used alone (I think!), it felt like an incomplete expression.

But it felt right. I felt a deep sense of gratitude for my experiences the past week that couldn’t quite be summed up in simple words. Thanks for the pretty mountains, and waterfalls and volcanoes and stuff?

So much more than that. The reminder that there are places on Earth that can feel this wild and incomprehensible. The hospitality of its utterly lovely, kind, patient populace. The sense of closeness to the very forces that formed this planet. The magic. The strangeness.

Thank you for it all, Iceland. Takk fyrir.