Finding Happiness in Iceland

Last day in Iceland. We are leaving the island of Ice and Fire in a few hours.

When I first saw Iceland, I wondered why this place is considered one of the happiest countries in the world. All I could see was barren volcanic rock, and nothing else, during the one-hour journey to the city.

Also, it’s cold. I hate the cold. I don’t like cold countries.

But by now I should have learned.

I questioned Denmark (too gloomy, too cold, too empty…), Stockholm (too similar to Melbourne, too cold), and even Finland got the same not-so-rose-tinted glasses (too quiet, too empty, too cold).

Disclaimer: Finland changed my mind purely because of its quietness. I quickly learned quietness is the quiet luxury I needed to improve my well-being, and hence my happiness level. That, and the sauna. The post-sauna glow wrapped me like a warm blanket. The stylish people. The best Indo food I have eaten in the whole of Europe.

Iceland, too, managed to convert me, albeit not with the same things. I didn’t even see locals in the iconic Icelandic sweater. I didn’t see a single puffin either. The Indonesian food was a bit sweet for my palate. But happy? Yes. I experience pure joy here.

It comes from the fresh air. The snow-capped mountains. The world-class restaurants, the fresh seafood (though I wonder whether they do crab here), the view of the sea, the fishermen’s boats, the colourful houses, the breathtaking views, the beauty of nature, the sweet lamb meat, and the long daylight. The way Icelanders speak. The arts. The evidence of an Indonesian community. The separation from Europe is a small distance.

I could see, albeit very subtly and with a tourist bias, only after the days passed, why Icelanders are happy people.

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