I'm currently writing a short story about Iceland and my protagonist has an unexplainable obsession with the place. She dreams about it - sees the volcanoes and glaciers, knows the names of the waterfalls. In all of this brainstorming about the place, I find myself reminiscing more and more.
One day in Iceland we took a long drive out into the country one Highway 1 - the Ring Road, if you will. We were in search of the glacier - we wanted to see it engulfing the mountains - we wanted to look in on an ice age. The thing is - when you drive country roads in Iceland you will inevitably be distracted by waterfalls - one after the other. And you will be forced to exit your car, take a roll of film of it (half of the falls from all different angles and half of you in front of the falls from all different angles.) You might have to stand at the base of it and feel the cold mist. You might even have to hike up into the hills, to see where the waterfalls come from. And then you find another and another and another. I can remember feeling healthier, fresher and happier than I had in a long time as I stood up on a hill in a country virtually untouched by time.