When I look back on the summer I spent working in Reykjavík I always feel foolish that I spent so little time outside of the capital. I was busy and consumed by my own little life, but it is ridiculous that I lived in Reykjavík from June to August 2006 without seeing very much of the country.

I attempt to redress this by taking advantage of Icelandair’s free stopover on my once/twice yearly trips home to Scotland from my current home of New York City. Like taking small sips of fresh Icelandic air, I rent a car in Reykjavík and try to gulp down as much as I can with the few days I allow myself before heading back to the real world — and the filthy air and grime of New York City.

My most recent trip, in early May, took me onto Route 1 and to the black sand beach of Vík in the southwest of the country. A late learner and always a nervous driver, I feel strangely calm driving  on the Icelandic roads. Once out of the city, as the otherworldly landscape begins to reveal itself, I perhaps find myself a little too relaxed, frequently slamming on the brakes to to a photo of some jagged mountain, shimmering waterfall or cute horse. It’s usually OK, once out of the city I am often along on the road for as far as I can see.