Reykjavik Bay Iceland
Several years ago, I lost my heart in Reykjavík.
First and foremost for Óskar, of course, but closely followed by this view on mountain Esja. As I’ve probably mentioned a thousand times before: I l-o-v-e the sea. And I love endless horizons that allow my gaze to wander around without coming to an end.
Still, from time to time, I’m also in for a certain middle stage, so-to-speak for ‘mock endlessness’: Knowing that it’s the sea you’re looking at, but perceiving it as a lake. As if it was easy to cross the water. As if this big blue thing was kind of tamed. As if you could still embrace this sublime distance the sea always creates in its own way (hypocritical greetings to Kant) – but somehow, the distance seems much more reachable than usually. That’s what I’d call ‘a bay moment’.
I’m quite picky with regard to bays. As soon as it includes palm trees or the epitomy getup of a postcard motif, fascination slowly fades away. I want it to be rough, I want it to be edgy, I want a natural signature look.
In my opinion, all these requisites are fulfilled in beautiful Reykjavík bay. With the small, seemingly abandoned island Viðey in the middle and mount Esja in the background.
I’ve never made it to the top of the mountain yet, I always went back down halfway between valley and peak. But who needs peaks if you can have a look at the semi-sublime bay instead. x