9/02/22
Laugarfell morning
East iceland.
Climbed mountains in the jeep to get here… only black person in this hostel.
Have hardly noticed that until now. The cluttering sounds of dining hall breakfast. Click clack tea cups and cereal bowls. Conversation conversation lounging language. Old american 60s tunes play, its kind of a confusing backdrop to this scene.
Were so high up in altitude that clouds constantly push past the hostel. There is a constant fog outdoors, where we're literally living in the clouds.
The foggy mist living past the windowsill mirrors the brain fog weighing on my head after some gin last night and our long long long drive. I wish these hostels gave their guest two pillows not just one. Its so hard to sleep with one pillow.
The ride here from Hella was insane. The last two hour stretch really dragged out… at some point ian and i were confused by what exactly we had gotten ourselves into… the hostel is miles off from the ring road and requires you to leave the nearest semblance of civilization. After picking up some groceries we drove up this steep winding road that lacked any guard rail with sheep on the road every so often.
Laugarfell Night
Ian and I took a two hour nap shortly after my last entry.
We were told by one of the hostel clerks about a “hot waterfall not so faraway.” ian and i decided to go. The drive there was intimidating, the road was just gravel and rocks. The rocks along the road grew larger as the road progressed.
At some point after driving on a non-existent road on the top of a hill with no signage, we began to really question the legitimacy of the hostel clerk's intel. The hot pot should have been to our left facing north but we couldnt see anything. The only thing we could do was keep driving.
After sometime out of the corner of his eye ian noticed a car meandering down a windy road in the distance to our left. We got out the car and saw a "parking lot" that only had 3 cars.
We eventually got to the pool and it was perfect. The temperature was so peaceful. After awhile ian and i were the only ones left and had the area to ourselves. We made photos of eachother naked while running around the grass and streams with our dicks out like distant ancestors. i realized in all this travel, companionship, grocery shopping, sleeping in same hostel beds, there is an intimacy here. The moments we shared today were beautiful and made me realize ive never been this close to a man before….
Moving between the hot pool and the cold stream next to it… being at the hands of nature and listening to how my body responds to its temperatures and altitudes. Breathing heavy at the tops of mountains and slowly underneath heated drops of hot moss water.
We were there for three hours. I sat in the water tapping into the shape and bend of each breath. My meditation here has been different than back home. The shapes that come to me are more flexible. Less straight.
Feeling the velvety moss in both hands… thinking of the life of this moss. Its breath and presence in this pool. Its softness. Its stink. What is the different between moss that grows in warm water and moss that grows in cold streams? How is it that iceland has both glaciers and volcanos? In what ways will i return home bettered from this experience? How can i be patient with myself while steady in the goals and expectations ive set for myself? How do i bring the gift of this moss home?
At the second hour of being one with the mossy geothermal pool i was overwhelmed with a nostalgic adolescent graciousness.
What more could i ask for? All the gifts of this lifes journey. All the love bestowed onto me, the muddy mixed feelings like the restorative mud on the floor of this pool.
Im so blessed to have people on this earth who love me as much as they do.