Every true Icelander must make a certain trip at least once in his lifetime.  A trip on Iceland’s Ring Road, or Route 1. When I was four years old, back in 1980, my opportunity came.

I remember it like yesterday when my parents, my seven-year-old sister and I got in our burgundy colored Volvo, in our matching Hummel jersey tracksuits. Burgundy-colored of course. We were a team, the four of us, ready to take on Iceland.

Many of my most precious childhood memories were made during that trip. Some of them I remember vaguely. Other parts I remember vividly. I remember the weather (it was always sunny); the pop tunes on the radio.

It was a trip of discovery, a realization that there was more to the world than the playground behind my apartment building in central Reykjavík.

We began in southern Iceland, stopping at Varmadalur, the farmstead where my great-grandmother was born, in the year 1900. She had moved to Reykjavik in the 1950s, by then a widow with many children to support, and she loved to spend time here. She told us fascinating stories about her childhood and the way of life back in the day. She also remembered her large and lively wedding feast, which took place on the grassy field outside the farm in 1924.

We drove to nearby Seljalandsfoss, a staggeringly high waterfall. The amazing thing is that it is possible to walk behind it, thus catching a unique “backstage” view.

We camped out in Skaftafell National Park, which lies at the roots of Vatnajökull Glacier. That was the first time I ever set foot on a glacier. And Europe’s largest, no less!

We stopped by at spectacular Jökulsárlón at Breidamerkursandur. Earlier this week, it became Iceland’s deepest lake. Icelanders also like to point out that this was the location of the opening scene of the James Bond film A View to a Kill. But of course that would be utterly irrelevant here.

Close to the town of Höfn, our car broke down. We were convinced it had been jinxed as a spider had just been (accidentally) killed in it. My father ran to a farm close by and soon returned with the farmer, who repaired the car with a smile on his face.

Helgustadanáma, by Reydarfjordur Fjord, is an otherworldly place. Iceland spar calcite, a colorless or white crystalline mineral has been extracted from it since the 17th century. To me the stones looked like diamonds. I got to keep a few and I treasure them to this day.

Hallormsstadaskógur, Iceland’s largest forest is a wonderful place for camping, with trees almost reaching the sky. It is the rare exception from the Icelandic proverb: If you get lost in an Icelandic forest, simply stand up. And down by the Lagarfljót Lake lives the Lagarfljót Worm, a distant cousin of Nessie of the Scottish Loch.

We visited many more interesting places, such as Akureyri, Northern Iceland’s capital. Every day was a new adventure.

But to me, the most important thing about the experience is the people I shared it with. My family.

Next week, thirty years later, I will be heading out on the Ring Road again, this time with my traveling companion through life. My husband. I can’t wait.

Ásta Andrésdóttir – asta@icelandreview.com