On the edge of the Arctic Circle, a rebellious capital was discovered

Standing on the spire of Hallgrímskirkja Church and overlooking Reykjavik, you can see colorful houses like building blocks spread out along the bay, and snow-capped peaks in the distance reflected in the blue, almost transparent sky. This capital of the Arctic Circle, which is misunderstood as a "transit station", is showing the world the rebellious genes in the bones of Icelanders in its unique way. People who encounter Reykjavik for the first time are always struck by its contradictions - on the left is the volcanic geothermal area spewing sulfur steam, and on the right is the molecular cuisine of a Michelin restaurant; climbers in jackets and fashion bloggers wrapped in furs rub shoulders on the streets; and the Vikings' rugged blood is flowing with the most avant-garde electronic music in Northern Europe. This mix of magical realism is the embodiment of Iceland's millennium-old survival wisdom: in extremely cold places, only by breaking the rules can one survive. Wandering along the main street of Laugavegur, you'll discover that this city disdains the word "capital". There are no magnificent government buildings, and the town hall looks like a glass cube floating on Lake Tonin; there are no luxurious shopping malls, and designer shops are hidden in 18th-century wooden houses selling volcanic rock jewelry. The most fascinating thing is the art installations that suddenly appear on the street corners: the aurora on the graffiti wall turns into musical notes, the bookstore converted from an abandoned fishing boat smells of latte coffee, and even the trash cans are painted into cute polar bears. I met local musician Einar by chance in front of the stained glass curtain wall of Harpa Concert Hall. He was playing backswing on a modified Viking harp, and the vibration of the strings sounded like the sound of a glacier cracking. “Reykjavik has never used the excuse of ‘preserving tradition’ to hold itself hostage,” he plucked the strings. “Just like our ancestors mistook geothermal smoke for cooking smoke, modern Icelanders are even better at turning reality into fairy tales.” When walking in Reykjavik, Hallgrímskirkja Church is a city landmark that cannot be missed. This giant building, which seems to have descended from a science fiction world, rises from the ground with a unique organ shape, looking both cool and spectacular. The gray and white concrete exterior walls exude a mysterious luster under the sunlight. As you approach it, you will find that the interior of the church is spacious and solemn. It is not only a religious holy place, but also a landmark of Iceland, demonstrating its unique artistic charm. Looking back at this capital city near the Arctic Circle, I finally understand why the Vikings called it "Smoking Bay". Aren’t those never-extinguished geothermal steam the boiling vitality of the Icelanders? They spent 300 years building an anti-traditional utopia between volcanoes and glaciers. There are no magnificent palaces here, but every street corner has become an art scene; there is no need for skyscrapers to decorate the facade, the colorful wooden houses are the most moving city declaration. hint: Recommended urban cycling route: Sun Voyager Sculpture - Harpa Concert Hall - Volcano Museum - Lighthouse Cafe - Hallgrimskirkja Church