Here it's worth exploring the topic in more detail. The thing is, Thingvellir isn't just a national park, it's an incredibly remarkable place. On the one hand, it's historical to the extreme, and on the other, it's a "place of power" where the world's energy lines converge. An attentive reader can't help but notice that the latter phrase coming from me can only sound ironic. That's true, but in this case, it's a respectful kind of irony.
So what kind of dish am I trying to cook up from all this verbal pasta?
A dish that isn't particularly spicy or flashy, meaning it lacks sensationalism, but instead is hearty and rich, meaning it impresses me personally quite deeply.
So, Thingvellir is primarily known for two things.
The first is that the continental rift between the Eurasian and North American tectonic plates runs right through here. In case anyone has forgotten their entire middle school geology course, allow me to remind you: the official prevailing theory tells us that all our continents are situated on more or less cold and solid tectonic plates of the lithosphere, beneath which the planet's matter is much softer, hotter, and more plastic, and is called the asthenosphere. And these very plates float in the asthenosphere like an iron crowbar in mercury.
In some places, the plates end and rub their edges against each other, causing earthquakes, tsunamis, and other imagination-capturing things. This happens in Iceland too, but in this specific place, you can also observe a clear boundary — where one ends and another begins.
That very rift; on the left is Europe, on the right is America