Spanning eleven time zones and two continents, Russia is the largest country in the world. Stretching from the beautiful St Petersburg in the west to the remarkable Vladivostok in the east, there is so much to see and do in this fascinating and unique country. But the country’s heart and soul lies in Moscow, the country’s capital and cultural hub, made famous by its eclectic architecture, uber-cool personality and swanky boulevards. For a little travel inspiration, take a look at some of the most interesting sights in Russia’s capital city, Moscow.

Red Square

Situated in the heart of Russia’s capital, Red Square once served as Moscow’s main marketplace and played host to various public ceremonies. These days, the celebrated cobbled streets continue to be a central meeting point for people and draw huge crowds of tourists every day. The square is surrounded by several buildings, all of which hold some form of historic significance. Start at the iconic St Basil’s Cathedral before continuing on to St George’s Church and Lenin’s mausoleum on the western edge.

The Kremlin

A historic fortified complex located close to Red Square, the Kremlin is home to an array of palaces, armories and churches. It was from this symbolic medieval fortress that Ivan the Terrible began his reign of terror, Napoleon watched the city as it burned and Lenin declared the dictatorship of the proletariat. Although there is no access to the Kremlin for visitors, there is still plenty to see, including a beautiful collection of Faberge eggs and the Armoury museum.

Izmailovo Flea Market

When visiting a country with this much history and heritage, there’s always a huge array of interesting souvenirs to bag home. Make sure you leave plenty of room in your suitcase and cabin luggage for traditional souvenirs. You’ll find Russian dolls, lacquer boxes and Faberge eggs at Izmailovo Flea Market, where hundreds of vendors come to sell everything from kitsch mementos to antique jewellery.  Your first visit may leave you a little overwhelmed, so either plan to return another day or be sure to take your time and resist any pushy merchants.

Gorky Park

Opened in 1928, Gorky Park is an amusement park that sits along the banks of the Moscow River. Spend the day people watching, strolling by the waterside, or enjoying the various attractions. Children will have a wonderful time enjoying the park’s rides and there are some great views to be seen from the colourful Ferris wheel. Exit from the yellow and blue pedestrian bridge for a panoramic vista of the city.

Flickr photo by Eugene_Orlov

From somewhere beyond the tranquility comes a spray of water and a slow-motion flip of a fluke.

It’s a humpback whale. Just meters away from our old sailboat.

I watch in awe as it glides gently by the bow of our boat, shyly peeking at us through the water surface. As we inch closer, the gentle giant dips beneath the water surface – before surprisingly diving up for air again. This time, it’s so close that I get a full view of the humpback whale: all of its white fluke, barnacle-studded belly and giant eyes. Our boatman shuts the engine and we observe the giant in awed silence. It dives down again, but we wait patiently and within a few minutes, it resurfaces in another direction, this time taunting us with a giant blow and a flip of its fluke.

I’ve had my fair share of whale sightings, but this has got to be the closest I’ve ever been to one. Here in Skjálfandi bay, off the shores of Husavik in Northern Iceland, whale watching is an eye-opening affair. Considered the whale watching capital of Europe, the waters around Husavik are home to around 24 species of whales thanks to the high level of plankton. Here, the humpback is the star of the show and it’s evidently got me hooked. I’ll let our photos and video do the talking for now, watch how these gentle giants captivate.

My whale watching trip was hosted by Gentle Giants. All opinions expressed above are my own. Read more about my adventures in Iceland here or see my Iceland photos here.

“It’s all about teamwork!” Our rafting instructor Girish shouts loudly to overcome the deafening sounds of the gushing water around us.

“Forward,” he barks at us, “faster!” We paddle in full force, fighting hard to stay afloat amidst the powerful eddies that threaten to swallow us. One, two. One, two. I follow the momentum of my teammates but my arms get weaker and weaker with every dip. Suddenly, my world spins in 360 degrees – we are trapped within a vortex of water and the only way out is to paddle some more. This time, we don’t need Girish to remind us – we paddle as a team with all our strength. Minutes later, we’re out of the maelstrom and into calm waters…

Conquering Fears

In the backcountry of North Iceland, we’re rafting down the mighty glacial river, Jökulsá Austari, also known as the Beast of the East. With a white water system that rates between Class III and IV, the glacial river promises a demanding and action-packed rafting experience. Along with its twin, Jökulsá Vestari – the west glacial river, it offers some of the best rafting in Iceland – which has consistently topped Lonely Planet’s list of things to do in Iceland.

Here in the Skagafjörður Fjord, rafting is becoming a trendy sport not only amongst tourists but also locals. We are joined by a bunch of teenagers from Reykjavik, here on a school trip. After getting kitted out in our water-resistant vest and helmet, Alberto and I hop onto our raft along with four teenagers to prepare for a dry run. Our new teammates are evidently nervous about their first attempt at rafting but our guide Girish, looking extraordinarily chirpy on this dull rainy day, is determined to shake away their fears. After just five minutes of paddling, he poses us with a challenge.

It’s only 10am, but the temperature has already risen to a balmy 28degrees. Luckily we’re paddling in the open sea – a few splashes of sea water immediately cool me down. Here in the Mediterranean, the weather is as beautiful as the shimmering coastline. It’s hard to believe that just an hour earlier, we were wrapped in sweaters braving the chilly morning air of the Pyrenees Mountains, and now we’re sea kayaking in nothing more than our bikini and wetsuit.

This is Costa Brava – a slice of Northeastern Spain that packs in everything from ski resorts to dormant volcano craters to wild beaches – each of them just within an hour’s drive to one another. During our week-long trip through the Pyrenees, we went from the steep mountains in Vall de Nuria through the volcanic area of La Garrotxa and down to the coast of Cap de Creus. We’ve had the grand opportunity to see the region from air (onboard an aircraft and a hot air balloon), land (4×4 segways) and now, the sea.

Cap de Creus: Sea Kayakers’ Paradise

That morning, we met our instructress, Pat, from SK Kayak on the beach of Llançà. This famous beach lies at the edge of Cap de Creus, a cape that straddles the invisible border dividing Spain and France. Famous kayakers like Nigel Foster are frequent visitors of this area – drawn here by its nautical challenges and interesting marine life. SK Kayak organizes day excursions along Cap de Creus as well as multi-day kayaking expeditions along the entire Costa Brava shoreline.

After a quick 5-minute safety briefing, we suited up in our gear, carried our fiberglass kayaks out to the sea and we were soon off gliding in the open sea. As soon as we’d left shore behind, I couldn’t wipe off the wide grin on my face. Having grown up on an island, I have a strong affinity to the sea and I’m the happiest when surrounded by it. As we paddled, I ran my toes through the water and dipped my fingers in to touch the sharp spikes of the sea porcupines – and I’ve never felt more alive.

Entering a Different World: Paddling in a Cave

Back in the sea, I’m enjoying the tranquility and the sensation of floating on the sea when our instructress slides by, with the rest of the kayak group in tow. Adorning a pair of Oakley’s, a tanned complexion and bleached blond hair, she can easily pass off as a California surfer chick. But looking around the shore, I see stacks of white-washed houses piled up in the town of Llançà, and I’m reminded that I’m in Spain.

We follow her lead, paddling close to the rocky cliffs that hug the shoreline, catching a glimpse of the hidden bays tucked in between. We’re not far from the beach of Llançà, and yet, amidst these craggy rocks, I feel as if we’ve left it all behind and plunged deep into the backcountry. Pat tells us that we’ll be paddling into a narrow cave where we may get the chance to see nudibranch (sea slug). I’m stoked – while I’ve kayaked along fjords in Alaska and in the ocean off Mauritius,  I’ve yet to kayak in caves and narrow inlets.

As we ease our kayaks through the crack in the cliff, we find ourselves pushing the rock walls with our hands instead of paddles to move slowly into the cave. A cave this small may induce claustrophobia, but I’m too excited to feel my nerves. Pushing past the crack, we get to a tiny circular inlet – here, the water looks even clearer than before, shimmering in clear shades of emerald green under the sun’s rays. As I eyeball 360 degrees around me, I’m in awe by the natural setting and atmosphere – it’s almost as if we’re in a different world here.

Once back out in the open, we’re paddling freely in shallow waters again. I’ve obviously picked the right partner: Katie is a master at steering our kayak in the right direction and our paddling rhythm is in sync. As the two of us paddle swiftly away from shore, I satiate the smell of freedom and embrace the feeling of ocean breeze in my hair.

Towards the end of our sea kayaking experience, I look out to the mountains that lie inland and glimpse back at the open sea behind me – it’s still hard to believe such geographical extremities can exist in one region, but the truth evidently lies before my eyes. Having explored its mountains, rivers, volcanoes and now the sea, I wonder what other surprise the Pyrenees has in store for me…

Dawn in the Pyrenees is quite a magical sight to behold: the sky striated in streaks of red and blue, with the sun slowly peeking through the wispy clouds against a backdrop of imposing mountains. By sunrise, the mountains beneath us are blanketed in gold with the occasional patches of white snow and clusters of green forests amidst them. As we float higher into the skies on our hot-air balloon,we also find ourselves drifting further and further away from the dry prairies and green volcano craters.

I’ve tried hot air ballooning over the unworldly landscapes of Cappadocia, Turkey as well as the haunting desert of Wadi Rum in Jordan, but this is something else. Instead of eerie rock outcrops or vast fields of rose red sand, we see verdant greenery , magnolia fields and colorful farmland. Everything seems to come alive here. At every turn and every corner, there’s always a pleasant surprise: whether it’s a herd of cows running beneath us or a picturesque volcanic lake snuggled between craters. This is La Garnatxa Volcanic Zone in the Spanish part of the Pyrenees and we are taking in a visual feast of the area from above.

Falling in Love with Ballooning

Our hot air balloon flight had started earlier that morning, at the crack of dawn. Shivering in the cold 5 degrees Celsius air, we watched our pilots unfolding the balloon, firing it up with hot air and setting it to its take-off position. Just as we hopped onto the 11-person basket, our pilot, Xevi Port, amused us with his morning joke, “Good luck!”

Xevi has flown the hot air balloon for over 20 years but he’s never lost one bit of his childlike enthusiasm.  Along with his three other brothers, he’d set up the company Vol de Coloms in 1992. Today, it’s still the leading hot air ballooning company in the Costa Brava region.

As we lift off into the horizon, Xevi tells us that hot air ballooning is an expensive business: the balloon itself costs €50,000 and it needs to be replaced after every 500 hours of flying. That is perhaps why each hot air balloon flight here costs €170 per person (including flight, certificate, cava and a brunch in their office) – which, considering the cost of the balloon, doesn’t feel too expensive after all.

Floating Solo Above Volcanoes

We find ourselves floating along with just one other balloon in the Pyrenees – there are no other hot-air balloons in sight. A stark difference to my previous hot air ballooning experience in Turkey (literally thousands of us). Despite being in a group of 12, we are struck speechless by the beauty surrounding us – so much so, there’s a soothing, comfortable silence as we let the wind take us.

Hot air ballooning is a relaxing affair. It operates by the simple fact that hot air rises and cold air sinks, so there’s a constant need to fire the balloon with blasting hot air. When the balloon is not filled with hot air, it descends at a speed of 5m/s. But with the flow of air, the movement is barely noticable and besides with the view before us, it’s all too distracting.

Above the Clouds

As we reach up to heights of 1,500m, the churches and houses below us resemble small lego pieces. Xevi points out to a fully circular sinkhole: Santa Margarita, the most well-preserved volcano crater in the area (which we would visit later on by foot). Xevi tells us that we’re flying at a speed of 100km/h, but the movement is so languid and relaxing, we can barely feel the wind in our hair.

Coming to the end of our flight, Xevi pulls out a bottle of ice-cold cava (Spanish champagne) and pops it open while we’re mid-air.  In the rosy morning air, we cling our glasses and share bites of the locally-produced coca (cake) – our laughter echoing in the Pyrenees skies. We may be 1,500m above the ground, but who says that’s going to stop us from some earthly indulgence?

Disclaimer: This hot air balloon ride was made possible by Vol de Coloms and Patronat de Turisme Costa Brava. All opinions expressed above are my own.

Read more about my adventures in the Pyrenees here or get more visual perspectives through my Pyrenees photos.

On board a light aircraft, we glide through the skies of the Pyrenees, drinking in an impressive view of the mountainous region. There’s not a speck of cloud in the skies and temperatures are at a balmy 28 degrees Celsius. Under the sun’s rays, the mountainscape that surrounds us look even more appealing than ever. Green fields, rivers and clusters of alpine towns spread beneath our feet, while grey granite mountains poke through the skies just inches away from us.

“In that direction,” our pilot pointed north, “is Andorra. Beneath our feet is Spain and to our left, France.”

From 1,800m above sea level,  I take in a view of three countries at a time: Spain, France and Andorra meet in the Pyrenees mountain range, separated by invisible borders and air space.  It’s surreal to fly over majestic, towering mountains and even more so to be high above the vortex of  these three distinctive countries.

To give you more visual perspectives, here are some photos shot from the light aircraft, enjoy!

Our light aircraft taking off from the tarmac strip of La Cerdanya Aerodrome.

From above, a highway that cuts through the Spanish Pyrenees.

Flying over the French territories.

 The town of Llívia under our feet – the only Spanish town to be surrounded by French territories.

 Gliding over the colorful La Cerdanya Valley.

With the tabletop mountains of Cadí in the background, we fly over green patches and meandering streams.

A view of Andorra in the far distance with Spain beneath our feet.

Disclaimer: This scenic flight was made possible by La Cerdanya Aerodrome and Patronat de Turisme Costa Brava. All opinions expressed above are my own.

Read more about my adventures in the Pyrenees here or get more visual perspectives through my Pyrenees photos.

It’s not everyday that I get to cross a country’s borders within a matter of minutes. Here in the Pyrenees, Spain and France are separated by an invisible border that can be easily crossed on two wheels. Led by an experienced biking guide, Jaume, we weave through cobblestoned alleys of charming towns in Spain, zip past colorful sunflower meadows and Romanesque churches – into France and back.

Straddling Between Two Countries: La Cerdanya

We’d started our journey in the Catalan town of Puigçerdà, a tiny enclave surrounded by the grey granite mountains of the Pyrenees. Sitting on a raised plateau overlooking a valley, the attractive town spots narrow alleyways, historical architecture and chirpy squares lined with cafés. What sets it apart from typical Spanish pueblos are its characteristic alpine feel and the backdrop of snow-capped mountains. With numerous ski stations in the vicinity, Puigçerdà is a popular base in winter for aprés-ski activities.

Taking a break at the main square of town, Jaume shares with us, “We are in La Cerdanya, a comarca (county) shared between Spain and France. Many people are surprised to find that the Spanish and French Cerdanyas are quite similar – after all, both countries share the region and we’re so close to one another that there are not that many differences between our culture and cuisine.”

True enough, during our time in la Cerdanya, we sampled cold cuts and cheese that could easily be mistaken for French, we heard Catalan words that resembled French phrases and stayed in alpine hotels that reminded me of my time in France. Yet, when we spoke to locals, it was easy to bring out the Catalan spirit in them and feel their love for their region. It’s surprisingly refreshing to find a part of the world that holds strongly to its identity yet cradles between two distinctive countries.

Back at the square, we take in a panoramic view of the mountainscapes that envelope Puigçerdà. Sprawled beneath our feet are clusters of houses, pockets of pine tree forests scattered throughout the plains and in the far distance, peaks after peaks poking into the clear skies of the Pyrenees. I can imagine how this must look in winter – a whole horizon of glittery whiteness blanketing over patches of greenery and valleys.

Camino de Santiago – A Challenge of Faith and Physique

It’s time to hop back on our bikes and head out to the Pyrenees countryside. Within minutes of meandering the streets of Puigçcerdà, we’ve left the asphalt roads behind and are now riding along rocky trails, zipping past farmhouses and horse ranches.

“This is the start of the Camino de Santiago (St. James Way),” says Jaume, “the famous pilgrimage route that thousands of people walk each year to get to Santiago de Compostela.” These days, most people traverse the route, not solely for religious purpose, but also to challenge themselves physically and psychologically. Hikers usually spend at least a week walking the camino but it is also increasingly popular to cycle part of the route.

We make a brief stop at the Capella de Sant Jaume de Rigolisa, a neo-Romanic style church that was destroyed by the French in 1793 but later reconstructed in 1887. Jaume points out the  the 17m tall bell-tower, a rather impressive feature for an edifice that stands in the middle of nowhere.

Cycling further along the Camino de Santiago, we reach the highway – the road sign that points ahead says ‘Francia’ (France). As a mediocre cyclist (with below average skills), I grit my teeth and brave through the fast-flowing traffic only to find that gliding down a sloping motorway isn’t as nerve-wrecking as I’d thought – I relax and let the wind take me. By the time I catch up with our group of bikers, they’ve gathered at a town square, in front of another Romanesque church. “This is the town of Ur,” announces Jaume proudly, “and we have arrived in France!” I look around, slightly thrilled and yet strangely surprised to know that we’re now in a different country.

Our journey comes to an end at the town of Llívia, a Spanish town literally surrounded by France. Due to historical reasons, Llívia is governed by Catalan rules and legislations but lies geographically in French territories. The people of Llívia speak Catalan, watch Catalan TV and consider themselves Catalans more than anything. Few places have such intriguing background – and even fewer have such strong identities. For a region that straddles between two countries, la Cerdanya definitely has carved its own personality and heritage.

How to Go Biking: Flocs ‘n Blocs organizes half-day bike trips from Puigçerdà to Llívia as well as a variety of biking trips in the Pyrenees ranging in difficulty level.

Where to Stay: There is a myriad of rural hotels and guesthouses in the area. I stayed at the boutique hotel, Bernat de So, in Llívia. Maintaining a perfect balance between heritage and design, the hotel manages to retain the rural country feel of the farmhouse while adding a touch of style and contemporary. It’s a short walking distance to most restaurants and attractions in town.

Disclaimer: This bike trip was made possible by Flocs ‘n Blocs  and Patronat de Turisme Costa Brava. All opinions expressed above are my own.

Read more about my adventures in the Pyrenees here or get more visual perspectives through my Pyrenees photos.

Standing on a steep rock face that stands 5m above the Freser River, I’m about to jump into the chilly waters.  Nothing quite as intimidating as the heights I’d experienced while coasteering in Wales or skydiving in Costa Brava – but like every first attempt, I’m slightly nervous. Looking down at the shallow waters that flow beneath me, it’s hard to fight off the anxiety and paranoia in my head. But my guide, Victor, who’s standing in the river beneath me, gives me an assuring nod.

Right leg forward, left leg arched – I take a big leap into the shallow waters and emerge within seconds, with a bright smile on my face and a mixture of relief and adrenaline.

A Refreshing Sport in a Hidden Corner of Spain

In the chilly waters of the Freser River, I’m trying out canyoning for the first time. Armed with nothing more than a neoprene wetsuit, hiking boots and helmet, we are scrambling over rocks, wading in rapids and leaping off cliffs. I’ve long heard of this active sport, especially popular among adventure travelers seeking unconventional experiences. As a water sports enthusiast, I knew this would be right up my alley.

Earlier that morning, we’d driven to the Ripollès county of the Pyrenees in Spain and found ourselves surrounded by mountain peaks, deciduous forests and alpine huts. This part of Spain refreshingly defies all stereotypes of the country – offering snow-capped mountains instead of rolling olive groves, hearty bean stews and cold cuts instead of seafood paella and wooden alpine houses in place of white-washed villages.

It’s the love for such contrasts that had brought Victor here in the first place. Originally from Barcelona, he had moved to the Pyrenees over 20 years ago in search of a change of environment. Now he can’t imagine living anywhere else but in this mountainous region. Obsessed with nature and sports, he set up Basaroca six years ago, leading skiing and snow-shoeing trips in the area before venturing into canyoning. In recent years, Freser River has become increasingly popular with both locals and tourists. With its myriad of waterfalls and rapids, the river creates natural circuits ideal for canyoners of all levels.

Playground for Adventure

Back in the river, we continue to traverse the rocky stream – sliding down naturally-sculpted rocks, maneuvering narrow caves and leaping over giant boulders. Victor had chosen the basic circuit for our group of canyoners, since most of us were first-timers. “It’s the time of the year when the water level along Freser is at its lowest,” says Victor. With less water also comes more physical obstacles to overcome. “The best time to do canyoning in the area is from March to May, when snow from the mountain peaks starts melting and floods the river with water.”

As we advance further along the circuit, we reach an obstacle that resemble an S-course slide – except that the end of the slide is out of sight. “Just slide down this section of the rock, use your legs as a wedge then sit on your butt and I will push you off the edge.” We exchange looks of puzzled anxiety – wondering what he meant by pushing us over the edge. One of our group mates, Arantxa, was the first to brave the obstacle. Sliding off the mini waterfall, she disappeared from sight within seconds. There was a short lapse of silence before we heard a quick yelp followed by a loud splash. Erh oh… When it was time for me to slide off, I was more curious than nervous to find out what lay ahead. As I swished through the gushing water, a vertiginous rock face awaited at the end of the course and before I could react, I was falling off a vertiginous rock surface, squealing in excitement.

By the time we reach the lower half of the river, our group of canyoners are beaming with satisfaction and exhaustion – our faces flushed red with excitement and our heads reeling in delirium. As we hop back on land, we are rather reluctant to leave the gushing water, and the thrill, behind us. Looking back, I wished I had gone up on the cliff a second time – perhaps then, all the anxiety would be gone, and in its place, child-like ecstasy.

Here’s a video of the 5m-high leap:

Disclaimer: This canyoning trip was made possible by Basaroca and Patronat de Turisme Costa Brava. All opinions expressed above are my own.

Read more about my adventures in the Pyrenees here or get more visual perspectives through my Pyrenees photos.

Over the past week in the Spanish Pyrenees, we canyoned down rivers, biked through golden meadows, kayaked off the coast, hiked on volcanoes and even flew over the mountains on a hot air balloon. My head is still reeling from the adrenaline-packed adventures and my eyes swirling from the visual feast of landscapes. With so much packed within a small region of Spain, the Pyrenees sprang one surprise after another upon us. Over the next week or so, I’ll be sharing snippets from the trip here with you, meanwhile here are some highlights of the Pyrenees.

Canyoning Along Freser River

Promising a whole load of splish splash, canyoning along Freser River definitely fed our thirst for adrenaline.  As most of our group of travelers were first-timers, our instructor led us on a basic canyoning circuit where we found ourselves scrambling on rocks, wading in knee-deep rapids and hurtling ourselves off 5m-tall cliffs.  Freser river flows through the highlands of the Girona province, breaking into series of waterfalls and rapids along the way, making for an excellent spot for canyoners of different levels.

Flying over 3 Countries at a time

On board a light aircraft, we flew over the skies of the Pyrenees, taking in views of three countries at a time. Spain, France and Andorra meet in the Pyrenees mountain range, separated by invisible borders and air space. Green fields, rivers and clusters of alpine towns lay below our feet, while grey granite mountains poked through the skies just inches away from us. It was surreal to imagine that we were flying at the vortex of  these three distinctive countries.

Hot Air Ballooning over la Garrotxa

It was dawn and the sky was shrouded in mist and painted in a shade of rosy red. We’d awoken at 5am that day to take to the skies on a hot air balloon over the volcanoes of la Garrotxa. As we languidly floated above mountain peaks and volcano craters, the sun rose together with us. By the time we reached heights of 1,500m, our pilot, Xavi, was ready to pop a bottle of cava and treat us to a round of bubblies and cakes. The rest of the morning was spent guiding slowly over the greenery and drinking in the striking views of the Pyrenees landscapes – scenes that would definitely stay with me awhile…

Biking to France and Back

Our bike trip looked like any other group cycling tour – except that we would be crossing from Spain to France and back just within a short half-day ride. Starting off from Puigcerdá, a small town in the Spanish Pyrenees, we weaved through narrow alleys and cobblestoned squares before skirting its countrysides and finding ourselves in the French town of Ur. It wasn’t long before we were back in Spanish territories at Llívia, a Catalonian town surrounded by France.

Horse-riding in Vall de Nuria

I’d long heard about the outstanding landscapes of the Nuria Valley and it definitely did not disappoint. I can safely say this was the most picturesque spot in the parts of Pyrenees we’d seen, and exploring the valley on horseback was no less fulfilling. Under the guidance of our instructor, we trotted through steep slopes and rocky paths, taking in amazing views of the majestic mountains and even spotting deers and mammots along the way.

Sea Kayaking in Alt Empordà

I was surprised to hear that the Pyrenees had a coastline. I was even more taken aback when we paddled through narrow rock caves and small bays surrounded by turquoise waters. Off the golden sandy beaches of Alt Empordà, the coastline was tucked with secret coves and treasures waiting to be uncovered. While our time on the kayak was short, I was thrilled to have the chance to see the Pyrenees from the sea.

Read more about my adventures in the Pyrenees here or get more visual perspectives through my Pyrenees photos.

Disclaimer: This trip was made possible by Patronat de Turisme Costa Brava. All opinions expressed above are my own.

Dressed in a bulky dry suit, airtight hood and gloves, I’m taking the plunge into the glacial waters of a narrow crack. It’s not just any crack though – this is literally an opening in the Earth’s crust, a rift that separates two continents, a valley in no man’s land.  I float around in the 2 degrees Celsius water and dip my head beneath the water surface.

It’s a whole new world: sunlight pierces through the crystal-clear water, giant boulders stack atop one another into the endless depth while lime-green algae sway lifelessly in the still waters. Just before our group of snorkelers meander through the rift valley, our guide Hössi says, “Remember where you are, on your right is America,” he pauses for effect, “on your left, Europe.”

One of the World’s Best Dive Sites

We are snorkeling in Silfra, a rift valley between the North American and Eurasian tectonic plates. It cuts through the Thingvellir National Park of Southwestern Iceland – a volcanic area created by the movements of the Earth’s crust. Today, it’s one of the most visited attractions of Iceland, although its rift valley is still a well-kept secret. Diving here first started in 1997 by the Sport Diving School of Iceland, which later converted to Dive.is in 2007, attracting over 1,000 divers per year.

“Swimming in this rift valley is truly a privilege, you almost feel like you belong to an exclusive club after diving Silfra.” Kevin, an experienced marine archaeologist and dive master at Dive.is explains. Considered one of the best dive sites in the world, Silfra promises visibility of over 100m (in clear glacial waters fit for drinking) and an underwater environment found nowhere else. In the clear-as-glass water, I can see beyond the narrow channel of water as it opens up to a wide waterway and plunges deep beneath my feet. It’s easy to see why some experience vertigo here – the water is so clear that it gives you a feeling of falling in air.

As clear as the water may be, it is after all fed from a glacier and thus stays at a humble temperature of around 2 degrees Celsius even in summer. At this temperature, no marine life can survive (except us humans). This explains why we are all wrapped from head to toe in ultra-protective dry suits and equipment. The preparation earlier that day had taken over one hour – first squeezing into the airtight dry suits, then zipping each other up and ensuring no holes for water to sip through before finally fitting on our gloves, hood, fins and last of all, our snorkel masks. Once we were floating on the ice-cold water, I could see the dry suit working its magic, keeping me warm and snuggly on the inside.

Underwater Mystery

Back in the rift valley, we continue to drift along the narrow channel flanked by massive squared boulders. Observing the spillage of rocks and boulders all around me, I let my imagination run wild as I picture how the Earth shook and rattled one day, causing catastrophic eruptions and quakes to form a crack as deep as this. Each year, this rift expands by 2-3mm as tectonic movements form new Earth. Staring down into the depths of the split, I wonder how it is to be scuba-diving amidst the caves and exploring its hard-to-reach gaps between the boulders.

I’d initially signed up for a dive, but as bookings were full, I opted to snorkel instead. My instructors had assured me that the experience would be equally rewarding – now that I’m floating in the glacial waters of Silfra, I get what he means. The visibility is so good that you don’t need to plunge deep to take in this amazing environment. While diving brings you deeper into the rift and close to the action, divers are only allowed to go to a maximum depth of 12-15m to assure safety. A recent fatal accident was a result of negligence as a pair of American divers went as deep as 63m and eventually got stuck in a cave. One of them was lost in the depths and by the time the authorities found him, it was too late…

Unique Creations of Nature

In the still waters, there is complete silence and a soothing kind of peace – even the usual breathing sounds from my oxygen tank is absent. I’m somehow thankful to be snorkeling instead of diving as I embrace this rare tranquility. Drifting through the narrow waterway, we come to a steep slope that leads the channel towards a shallow lagoon. Popping our heads up, we hear Hössi explain, “This site is named ‘the Cathedral’, for the similarity in shape and formation.”  Swimming past it, I turn around and take a good look at the water way – its lofty spaces surrounded by wide and tall walls of rocks is clearly a work of nature, and perhaps spirits of a different kind.

Soon after, we get to a shallow natural pool shimmering in a ridiculous shade of aqua blue. “This is the REAL Blue Lagoon, just take a look and you’ll know what I mean.”  The big boulders are gone, only to be replaced by a marshy bed of rocks and patches of beige wispy algae, around us was an immense blanket of blue. As how Kevin described it earlier, the lagoon resembles scenes straight out of the movie, Avatar.

After spending almost 40 minutes meandering along the rift valley, it’s about time to get back on land. Taking a peek above the water surface, I’m surprised to find the stark contrast in colors: the same patch of land that’s blanketed in lifeless beige algae underwater, explodes into bushes of colorful shrubs on land. This time of the year, Thingvellir blossoms into beautiful autumn colors, although under the water, things stay the same all year round. Nature is truly creative, at times downright bizarre; whatever this case is, I’m definitely ranking Silfra top in my list of favorite works of nature.

Here’s a video shot underwater, it’ll give you a better idea of what goes on at Silfra:

Photos and videos above are courtesy of Dive.is.

This snorkeling trip in Thingvellir was made possible by Dive.is, while my self-drive trip through Iceland was hosted by Discover the World. All opinions expressed above are my own. Read more about my adventures in Iceland here or follow my updates on Facebook and Twitter.