It started with a book
The year was 2011, I had just turned 16 and my grandparents had bought me a kindle for my birthday. I was in boarding school at the time, with no Internet connection, so I devoured books ruthlessly from then on. Science fiction and dystopian fiction were some favourites, and I became crippling aware of humanity’s imminent demise. Douglas Adams had always been a favourite of mine, to the point that I wrote an essay comparing the different adaptations of H2G2 for my high school exams. My Dad (a key character in these events) told me of his other book series, Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency, apparently made with leftover Doctor Who scripts.
That sealed the deal. I read the first book, and then the second: The long dark tea-time of the soul. I wish I was joking when I said that that book changed my life. To summarise, the Norse Gods are roaming around Earth, running advertising agencies, summoning monsters and fighting amongst themselves. Most prominently featured are Odin (living in a care home) and Thor (attempting to fly to Norway). Honestly, I can’t recommend this book enough. Like Adams’ other work it’s sharp, witty and slightly out of this world.
I was absolutely drawn to this interpretation of Thor. Subsequently, I fell down the rabbit hole of Norse mythology. I read the Poetic Edda shortly after.
This book, however, left me wanting more. It inspired me to write in a way I hadn’t written before. In November 2013, I wrote my own novel. This started as a loosely connected fan fiction before becoming an entirely standalone story.
Then Iceland got involved…
The next step was even more random, and is once again due to my Dad. It was a lazy Saturday and my Dad was surfing the Internet. He came across a website that translated nonsense phrases from a Monty Python sketch into every language. As he was scrolling down he jokingly tried to read the Icelandic one.
In that moment I realized I had never thought about Iceland. That I had thought even less of it having its own language. It looked complicated. Previously, I had attempted to learn Dutch for the challenge of it. Icelandic looked like the challenge I craved.
So I started learning it. I had no intention of going to Iceland at this point, I was purely interested from a linguistic perspective.
It is also important to note that etymology is also an obsession of mine. In 2012 I was in hospital for surgery. My Mum brought me a book about the origin of English words. To make a long story short, about half of English comes from French/Latin, and the other half from Germanic/Norse languages. I was already bilingual in French and English. This meant that learning Icelandic filled in the missing gaps as to the origins of English words.
The final nail in the Icelandic coffin came when BBC 4 showed a documentary by Janina Ramirez on the Icelandic sagas. Prior to watching, my parents and I assumed that the sagas contained more myths like the Edda. However, I was pleasantly surprised to find out that they were â€true†stories about Icelanders from the dark ages. Armed with my kindle, I downloaded every saga from sagaDB in both English and Norse/Icelandic. To date, I have read 5 sagas cover to cover. My progress has only being slowed down by school and other such responsibilities.
But how great is it really?
I became determined to visit Iceland. I was a university student by now, with little income of my own, so that was out of the question for a few years. That is, until I went to engineering school. As part of the French diplôme d’ingénieur, students must study or work abroad for a semester. I realised this was my chance.
I applied to every vaguely computing or robotic company in Iceland, with my sights especially set on the IIIM. After months of back and forth, and apparently some gentle encouragement from my professors - I was hired for an internship for the summer of 2018.
The flight from Paris to Reykjavik was the first time I had taken a plane. For those four months I lived with a roommate on the west side of Reykjavik. I made new friends and tried to see as many of the sights as I could on my limited budget and free time.
I loved the landscapes, the people, the culture, even most of the food. Despite everyone speaking English, I did my best to pick up the language. Even buying myself children’s books to practice. The cultural differences compared to France were stark. People have a well-defined concept of personal space, especially on public transport. As a woman, I didn’t feel as threatened being out alone at night, and the midnight sun fascinated me.
When August rolled around, I couldn’t bear the thought of going back to France. To top it all off, the summer in Reykjavik was cooler than what I was used to, which was a welcome change. Although when we first moved to France summers would reach the high 20s (°C), thanks to global warming they now breached 30°C before breakfast – and I am not built for that kind of heat.
An example of the difference….
On my return, I would become nauseous and almost pass out every day at around 5pm – the hottest part of the day – until I readjusted.
A woman on a mission
As soon as I returned to France, my goal was to move back to Iceland, permanently. I focused on finishing my degree, slogging through my final semester and one more internship (in France, this time).
Around the same time, I left my boyfriend of 4 years. To make a very long story short, it was a long time coming. I eventually met my current partner in the middle of my last semester of school. He too had dreamt of moving to a Nordic country, though less specifically than me.
I graduated in October 2019 and from that point on my plan was simple.
In France, the jobs I was qualified for all came with a six-month trial period. I planned to work for 6 months starting in October, save like crazy, then leave at the last possible minute and move to Iceland in April 2020. I put on a stellar performance at that job, they didn’t suspect a thing.
More pieces fell into place as one of my former colleagues in Iceland wanted to invest in rental property with me as his tenant. I got to help him pick out my new home, and have a landlord I could trust.
After applying for jobs in Iceland on the side, my current employer hired me in February 2020, scheduling me to start work in May.
I had the job, I had the money, I had even booked my flights – but I hadn’t factored in a global pandemic.
Covid-19
France went into lockdown from the 17th of March until the 11th of May 2020.
I had already begun to move out, almost all of my belongings were at my parents’ house. I moved in with my partner and, as I have an underlying condition, literally did not leave that apartment for 6 weeks.
My flights were cancelled, rebooked, refunded, cancelled again, refunded again. At the time of writing I have amassed credit with Icelandair, Air France and EasyJet – easily enough to bring my family here on holiday. I went stir crazy. Eggs and flour were in such short supply that I learned to replace eggs with vinegar or chickpea brine and ordered flour straight from a mill. My mother sewed us homemade masks as we couldn’t get regular ones for love nor money.
Lockdown summarised in one photo
My employer decided to have me start working from home, from France when May began.
Flights were reduced everywhere, meaning that Icelandair no longer flew from Paris to Reykjavik. They were only flying from London and Stockholm. Not wanting to get my nationalities muddled in London, I opted to fly from Toulouse (my home town) to Paris, then Paris to Stockholm, then Stockholm to Reykjavik. More cancellations ensued and we ended up staying in Stockholm for four days.
We took some time to see the sights – carefully, of course
Although our journey was a necessary one, my partner did not have a work contract like I did, leading to a couple of anxiety inducing situations. First with the French police letting us into Paris – who then made fun of my partner for relying on me, then in Stockholm to check the rules for entry into Iceland. That journey aged me.
We quarantined and got our bearings in a lovely Airbnb for the first 2 months.
Home at last
Not only was it refreshing to be somewhere where Covid had not hit so hard, but we both embraced the Icelandic summer. My partner had never been to Iceland before so everything was a discovery. As a Frenchman, he misses his cheese, bread and wine the most – but he has taken up breadmaking to ease his pain (get it? Pain?).
I shipped my belongings from France to Iceland, and we are now well and truly settled. My partner found a job and we adopted a cat. We have survived the midwinter nights thanks to hefty doses of Lysi and our nocturnal tendencies. We finally got to see real snow and a frozen lake that we could walk and skate on.
Now Spring is around the corner and I’m looking forward to marking our one year anniversary of the move to Iceland.
I don’t regret this move at all, I’m so happy here and have everything I need. I only hope that the vaccinations will allow a speedy return to normality so I can cash in those airline credits and invite my family here!
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