Where the Plates Meet

Friends who crossed oceans

They flew their closest people to Iceland for a wedding at one of the country’s most isolated churches. Pink Iceland planned the day. The ceremony was held at Úlfljótsvatnskirkja, a small white church on the shore of Úlfljótsvatn lake, inside the national park where the Icelandic parliament was founded over a thousand years ago. The reception followed at Ion Adventure Hotel, a design hotel built into the lava field forty-five minutes from Reykjavik.

Between the two locations sat UNESCO-listed geology, volcanic rock carpeted in moss, and winter light that changed the landscape every twenty minutes. They wore matching navy windowpane suits with burgundy bowties. There was a guitarist and an organist. There was a kilt during the speeches. There were friends who had crossed oceans. Nobody needed a reason to cry. They had plenty.