Travelogue: A trip to remote Iceland became an unforgettable memoir for this travel writer – read her book

‘I sold my house, packed my belongings into storage, and booked a passage on a car ferry from Denmark to Iceland’ – travel author Emma Strandberg‘I sold my house, packed my belongings into storage, and booked a passage on a car ferry from Denmark to Iceland’ – travel author Emma Strandberg
‘I sold my house, packed my belongings into storage, and booked a passage on a car ferry from Denmark to Iceland’ – travel author Emma Strandberg
Finding healing in Iceland: An interview with travel writer Emma Strandberg

Have you ever heard of Blönduós in remote north of Iceland? Neither had travel writer and photographer Emma Strandberg, but after a particularly traumatic period in her life she was prepared to brave the elements in the back of beyond to find healing and rediscover herself. It would lead to an unforgettable adventure, as recounted in new travel memoir Where the f**k is Blönduós?

Q. What prompted you to travel to Iceland in the dead of winter?

A. The time of year was inconsequential to me when deciding to travel to Iceland. A combination of events leading up to that point – including several house renovations, running a business in a foreign country, a decade of being married to a security contractor who worked in conflict zones worldwide and was away for nine weeks out of 12, and knowing it was a question of ‘when’ and not ‘if’ we would divorce – were only a few of the factors that culminated in my decision to go to Iceland for six months.

Heading to Iceland in the depths of winter, with little more than a handbag, tent, and firm resolve, Where the f**k is Blönduós? author Emma Strandberg pushed far beyond her comfort zone to overcome her personal demons.Heading to Iceland in the depths of winter, with little more than a handbag, tent, and firm resolve, Where the f**k is Blönduós? author Emma Strandberg pushed far beyond her comfort zone to overcome her personal demons.
Heading to Iceland in the depths of winter, with little more than a handbag, tent, and firm resolve, Where the f**k is Blönduós? author Emma Strandberg pushed far beyond her comfort zone to overcome her personal demons.

I had been inwardly battling with my own anxiety and had started to realise the effects that vicarious traumatic stress caused by my husband’s work was having on me. One morning I woke to discover I had been burgled in my own home and this singular event was the straw that broke me. I could take no more. I had been battling exhaustion and a persistent low-grade fever; I felt numb and afraid and finally admitted to myself that I was ill. I had to stop the toxic spiral I was caught in and give myself a chance to deal with all that my life had become, to find a positive way to move forward.

In a short space of time, I sold my house, packed my belongings into storage, and booked a passage on a car ferry from Denmark to Iceland. It was autumn. I’m glad that that journey, one of many I have since made to Iceland, was in wintertime as I feel it was the cold, the darkness, and the challenges that the Icelandic weather and driving conditions threw at me daily, was what made me focus, survive, and become a stronger person.

Q. Why did you choose Iceland in particular for your healing?

A. I wanted a place that held little distraction, was safe and yet challenging, neutral and yet familiar to me, and where I could take time to make sense of my own life and deal with the mental exhaustion. Iceland had always figured in my vocabulary. The country had captured my late mother’s heart before I was born and with it destroyed any chance of her being content with giving up her own career and raising children. I had been reminded of that fact often while growing up. I had inherited her notebooks, which detailed her own journeys to Iceland during the early 1960s coinciding with the eruption of the island of Surtsey. I hoped to understand what had captivated my mother and, perhaps, find forgiveness. Iceland, therefore, wasn’t by choice but more by destiny.

Front cover of Where the f**k is Blönduós?Front cover of Where the f**k is Blönduós?
Front cover of Where the f**k is Blönduós?

Q. Iceland is known as a country of extreme weather. How did you find it, and what advice would you give to other travellers?

A. Iceland is home to both extreme and unpredictable weather. The weather changes rapidly, no matter the time of year. It can be windless, calm, and dry in one area and then have heavy rain or sleet, mud slides, and flooding in the next. The wind is especially violent.

Having taken my own car, I quickly learnt that I was somewhat unprepared. My journey through wintertime was defined by the weather. Having lived for many years in Scandinavia, I felt comfortable with driving in snow and ice. I had both summer and winter tires with me and felt adequately prepared. On my second day of arrival, the wind speeds reached 28 meters per second. I had to stop the car and googled how strong that was. I was alarmed to read that 20 mps is gale force!

I learnt to plan for the worst and hope for the best. Not only while driving but also while walking, climbing, and even camping. The dust and sand on occasion were blinding. The wind chill took my breath away. The ice and drifting snow closed roads often. I have since travelled to Iceland several times, in all seasons of the year, and on each occasion have been surprised and shocked by the Icelandic weather. Iceland’s charm is enhanced because of its natural phenomena, including the weather, but if you respect it, you will have memories for life. If anyone is considering taking a road trip through Iceland, there are a range of apps including ‘Vegagerðin’ which keeps you up-to-date with road conditions. Check the weather often (even for those travelling to the capital, Reykjavik), dress appropriately, and allow time in your itinerary for plans to change. I recommend rain wear and layers for warmth and sensible shoes.

Travel writer and photographer Emma Strandberg stayed in the small sub-Arctic town of Blönduós in Iceland in the depths of winter, and discovered a warm community spirit to counter the freezing conditions.Travel writer and photographer Emma Strandberg stayed in the small sub-Arctic town of Blönduós in Iceland in the depths of winter, and discovered a warm community spirit to counter the freezing conditions.
Travel writer and photographer Emma Strandberg stayed in the small sub-Arctic town of Blönduós in Iceland in the depths of winter, and discovered a warm community spirit to counter the freezing conditions.

Q. Your new book Where the f**k is Blönduós? captures your many experiences in Iceland. What is your favourite, and why?

A. I have had so many fantastic experiences that it’s difficult to singular out one. One truly unique and magical encounter was on a glorious freezing cold day, heading out on a boat from Grundarfjörður on the west coast in the hopes of seeing orca whales. We did in fact see a large pod of orca, including several calves that were less than a year old. They were black and apricot pink rather than the typical white and black of an adult killer whale because, not yet having yet built up thick blubber, their blood vessels are close to the surface. Travel broadens the mind and events like this teach us so much about the natural world.

Sailing back into harbour with a warm hot chocolate in my hand and the backdrop of the majestic mount Kirkjufell wrapped in her winter coat of snow, I couldn’t imagine that anywhere in the world could be more beautiful. Driving back north to Blönduós later that evening, I suddenly felt a waterfall of tears falling down my face, brought on by both thankfulness at having been a part of the spectacular tour but also the releasing of pent-up emotions. Crying, I found, was part of my own healing and I allowed the tears to fall rather than bringing out my British stiff upper lip!

Q. What was the scariest experience you had while travelling in Iceland?

A. Well, I did almost fall off an icy rock face. Had I done so, I would not have survived. I was cut and bruised but somehow managed to pick my way up and over the cliff. It was a pivotal moment in my journey but dare I say not the scariest. I wasn’t scared of dying but I feared not living. I was more scared the day I lost my handbag. It had my money, passport, credit cards, asthma medication, and spare car keys in it. My veins ran icy when I realized it wasn’t in its familiar spot on the car seat beside me.

Q. Why would you recommend travel to readers who feel that, like you, that they need to step off the treadmill and re-evaluate their lives?

A. The word ‘travel’ comes from the French word ‘travail’, which means work. My own personal journey of self-discovery and healing has taught me that staying in a negative situation is a vicious circle and that sitting still is a breeding ground for negative thinking. By finding a way to focus the mind and body I ‘worked’ through my own anxieties. We often hear of the five senses, but we have many more. Not only touch, taste, smell, hearing, and sight, but also temperature, pain, time, bodily needs, and spatial awareness. Solo travel places us in a more vulnerable position and we become wholly responsible and dependent for our own actions. We learn to communicate with our emotional and physical self on a higher level, becoming more aware of how we are and what we need. How often do we hear that we must listen to our bodies? Travel has made me realise how true this is.

Q. What is your advice to those of a certain age who think such journeys are not for them?

A. Everyone can benefit from embarking on a journey of self-discovery and healing. I grew up hearing that youth was wasted on the young. I didn’t understand at all what that meant until I became ‘not young’. I wasted a good portion of my own life worrying needlessly about how I looked or whether I was ‘good enough’. Should we waste the best years we have left worrying about whether we should invest in ourselves and take on an adventure or a new challenge or should we, instead, show the world, and ourselves, that we are a force to be reckoned with?

Whether it be an extended journey, incorporating a new hobby or language, or simply taking that holiday we have so often dreamed of, age is no barrier to travel. It can open new possibilities and friendships, build confidence, and keep your body and mind active. Incidentally, the artists’ residency that I stayed in is a base for textile artists from around the world. A good percentage of the demographic were people ‘of a certain age’ and they were having the time of their lives.

Q. How does your new book differ from other travel books on Iceland?

A. Most deal with the well-known routes that have been trodden to death, taking a coastal route or staying in the capital, Reykjavik, and entertain the reader with only a local perspective of their short time spent in Iceland. None deal with a journey by a middle-aged woman on a journey of self-discovery in the middle of winter in the far north of Iceland.

Where The F**k Is Blönduós? is a personal account of self-healing while driving and surviving an Icelandic winter. Both funny and sad, it is an emotional roller-coaster of trying to find the real Iceland while battling self-doubt and unhealed trauma. It focuses not only on my life in the small town of Blönduós but also on my driving the entire circumference of the island in wintertime. I also include useful and interesting observations of the people and culture.

Q. What do you hope readers will gain most from reading it?

A. I hope to inspire readers to explore lesser-known parts of Iceland, a unique destination.

Think about the pace in which we travel. By taking a ferry rather than a plane, the journey unfolded for me at a more elegant pace. I stopped off on the Faroe Islands on the way, thus discovering a new land I had previously disregarded. By slowing down the way we travel we slow down time. A word of advice would be to see less but get more from that experience. Don’t be so focused on ticking destinations off your bucket list. Enjoy where you are and harvest memories and experiences that will last a lifetime.

In addition, by giving ourselves time to find out who we are, what we need, and what we don’t need, we can live a happier and healthier life. By throwing ourselves into the unknown, we learn how strong we are as human beings. My trip reinforced the ability to trust people. I learned about the generosity of strangers, the strength of a small community, the power of the grapevine, and the importance of the comfort of the swimming pool in Icelandic culture.

Q. What should readers expect from you next?

A. I am enjoying writing my third book, which is a sequel both to my first, Fully Booked (which is being re-released as a second edition in September), and Where the f**k is Blönduós?. I am often asked what happened after Iceland. It has been an interesting journey to date and not without its ups and downs. Did Iceland change me for the better? Did I run a Bed & Breakfast again? Were my battles with anxiety and stress behind me? Did I remain in Sweden?

My new book (release date January 2024) is an honest account of me bathing my way through the forests of Sweden while burying my memories one by one. For context, at the peak of my anxiety I was visiting a speech therapist twice a week as felt I had a lump in my throat constricting my breathing, swallowing, and eating. Emotionally, I had been robbed of even my voice. Ultimately, I lost everything. My home, my husband, my income, and my friends. I found solace and comfort in green spaces and by observing nature a bit too closely for comfort, falling over many times, and making an utter arse of myself, I woke up one morning and realised I was happy.

You can see regular updates by visiting my website, www.emmastrandbergbooks.com, which has details of current writing projects, release dates, and more.

Where the f**k is Blönduós? Driving and Surviving a Winter in Iceland by Emma Strandberg (New Generation Publishing) is out now on Amazon, priced £9.99 in paperback. An eBook version will be available soon, priced £5.99. For more information, visit www.emmastrandbergbooks.com.

Exclusive Extract From Where the f**k is Blönduós? By Emma Strandberg

To mark the release of Where the f**k is Blönduós? by Emma Strandberg, here is an exclusive extract from the chapter ‘Planning’, which recounts how she settled on the far northern town of Blönduós.

I had already emailed my acceptance and bank details, so there was no turning back. I was off to Iceland. To be precise, I was off to Blönduós.

“Where the f**k is Blönduós?” my best friend Mats asked, rather startled when I called him to explain what I planned to do. He was my oldest friend from childhood and my dependable hero. A retired special forces operator, he now volunteered with mountain rescue and sold insurance. He knew a thing or two about survival.

“It’s north of Reykjavik,” I replied confidently.

“Everywhere is north of Reykjavik, Emma!” replied Mats. “Where exactly?”

As we spoke, I quickly opened the laptop and searched for a map. Eventually, I found Blönduós.

“Very north,” I muttered. “Eleven o’clock on the map.”

When I called my eldest sister later that same evening to share the news, she immediately asked, “How do you spell Blönduós? I can’t find it.”

I wasn’t certain myself.

“It must be near the Arctic Circle,” she said.

I started to worry.

“Hope it’s not near bloody Surtsey,” she joked. Eventually, the jokes faded, and seriousness set in. The more I spoke of my plan, the more enthusiastic people became. Even my nieces and nephews, who rarely travel, thought it would be cool to visit Iceland for Christmas. So much for being alone, I sighed, though deep down, I knew it was unlikely they would come.

I researched Blönduós once again, a little more seriously this time, and was stunned. There appeared to be little apart from a few houses, many dilapidated buildings, and a slaughterhouse. The town was divided in two by a river. Surely this couldn’t be the town in which I had agreed to spend an entire winter. The only positive search I found advised me that Eric Clapton fishes here annually. I guessed he might be more elusive than the Northern Lights, but I felt there must have been at least a decent pub there, if not for Eric personally, for his entourage, who I assumed would follow in his wake. Maybe Blönduós wasn’t so bad after all. Additional information came through from the artist residency by email. They attached a Liability Waiver reminding me that legal action of any kind was pointless, a copy of their alcohol and drugs policy, acceptance of my initial request form (it was a residency and not a hotel, you had to apply and hope you were accepted), and a brief introduction to the town.

It certainly didn’t mention a pub. In fact, it read something along the lines of “Blönduós is the most populated area of Húnaflói bay in Northwest Iceland. Around 850 people live here permanently, with a transient population nearing another 150 or so working in the factories. It is a pit stop for those travelling the Ring Road and serves as a service point for local farms. It has a large slaughterhouse and a dairy, a wool washing plant, and other light industrial outlets. Accommodation is basic but plentiful. There is a café, a petrol station, a swimming pool, several museums, and a large hospital with a well-appointed unit for diabetes.” It went on to say they’d had “moody weather of late, so bring a hat that fully covers your ears, and a sturdy pair of galoshes to be worn with two pairs of socks, the outer one being wool!”

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