After a long journey through the south, I found myself drifting east, following what felt like some of the most beautiful coastal highways I’ve ever driven. The road traced the edge of the North Atlantic Ocean, with waves crashing endlessly beside me and the vastness of the sea stretching far beyond the horizon. At times, it felt unreal—like driving through a moving landscape painting, where water, light, and land blurred into one.

As I turned north, I stopped in Húsavík, not expecting much more than a pause in the journey. Instead, I witnessed something unforgettable. Whales surfaced and leapt from the water, moving effortlessly against a backdrop of mountains, their silhouettes framed by a soft, glowing sunset. It felt quiet yet powerful, a reminder of how alive this land and sea truly are.

This stretch of the journey wasn’t about chasing moments, but about being present—letting the road, the ocean, and the stillness guide the experience.