True story.
Seven years ago I sat on the cliffs of Iceland dreaming I could fly. I was up on a cliff in the west fjords listening to a song called Are Batur, by Sigur Ros. It’s definitely one of my favorites of all time. At the end, in true Sigur Ros form, it build and builds and then explodes in a heavenly orchestration of glory. I may have shed a tear, but the influence it had on me was so profound. It took me to a place where I was flying over this beautiful place and not just looking at it from the edges. It was just a fantasy since the reality of that could never happen… until it did. I learned to fly at home and a friend organized a tour to be the first ever to explore the depths of Iceland on a paramotor. The ultimate dream had come true. The ability to go where there are no roads — particularly no tour buses— blesses us with a humbling advantage. Over volcanoes, lava fields, and skies untouched. Enjoy. Spoiler, northern lights appear.
.jpg)
