We were woken at the crack of dawn by youthful - and loud! - German hostellers who were either catching an early flight home or were eager to kick off their trip. They were so loud that Simone actually clambered down from the top bunk, went down the hallway, and told them to be quiet in three languages (English, German, and Stern Teacher Body Language). Thankfully they complied with her request.
Breakfast was a mash up of whatever food we had left. I had a toasted ham and cheese sandwich while Simone and Mom had cereal, yoghurt, and toast. After breakfast I headed to the common room downstairs to see if I could connect to the Internet, but no luck. As with most of our accommodations in Iceland, the promises of Internet access were greatly exaggerated.
Mom and I had already repacked the previous night, so we just lazed about while Simone pulled everything out of her suitcase and played Tetris with her belongings. When I couldn't stand waiting at the hostel any more I headed out to the car and drove it back to Reykjavik. As I approached Reykjavik our friend the rainstorm dropped by for a final downpour. Thankfully he toodled off after a few miles and the rest of the journey was dry.
I had an hour and a half to kill before catching the FlyBus to the airport so I went in search of a bank to change my remaining Icelandic krona back to a currency that I could trade back in Canada. Unfortunately, I learned you can't change krona into other currencies at everyday banks. The only place where they will do that is at the bank at the airport.
I wandered around town for a bit longer then headed back to the 4th Floor Hotel, where I was to pick up the FlyBus. I discovered that they DID have wireless Internet access. So, I spent a bit of time checking email and perusing various news sites to see how the world had been doing while we were on hols.
The FlyBus arrived at 1pm as promised. However, the driver didn't want to pick me up. He looked at my voucher and told me that I was to catch the bus at 1:30pm. I disagreed and explained that I was to catch the bus at the main depot at 1:30pm, and that I was to catch a ride with him to the depot. He took another look at my voucher and then used the radio to get in touch with dispatchers at the depot. They confirmed that I was to ride with him to make the connection to the 1:30pm bus to the airport. Phew!
I met up with Mom and Simone at the airport. We got our tickets, checked our bags, and then headed through security. We exchanged our krona at the bank and then stood in line to claim our tax refund. (You can get a refund on taxes if you're a tourist.) I joined Simone in the line-up and an Italian guy standing behind her complained in Italian about me barging in line. Simone pointed a finger at me and then her and said "familia." He didn't look convinced, which is not surprising because Simone and I don't really look related. He sighed and muttered under his breath but let it slide as politely as a pissed off Italian man can let things slide.
After getting our refunds we had some lunch and waited for the flight. Keflavik International Airport is very attractive and, aside from a lack of seating near the gates, is quite comfortable. For example, the food court is quite extensive and you don't have to go to a bar to get a drink. The bathrooms are sparkling clean and modern. And there's also a really fabulous video about Iceland that plays every few minutes in a small theater.
The flight to Seattle was uneventful. I was seated next to a flamboyant gay guy from Alaska who had participated in the Gay Pride celebrations the previous week. He was a Chatty Cathy and I was glad when the entertainment system sparked up because it meant I could politely opt out of the conversation. Two or three movies later we arrived at SEATAC and made our way to the gate for the final flight home. We had to wait three hours so we scouted out the most comfortable seats and tried to snooze. I even tried to sleep on the floor next to one of the unused service desks but it was just too damned noisy.
Our flight to Victoria left just after 11pm and we arrived in Victoria in time to greet midnight. The customs agents were both confused and impressed that we were returning from Iceland. It's not your normal tourist destination, that's for sure.
And with a couple of questions and a cursory look at our passports, we were home. It was nice to be back, and to know that we'd be sleeping in our own beds shortly.
10.8.09
BLUE LAGOON AND VITHEY
We left for the Blue Lagoon around 9:00am. As we approached the turn off to the secondary road that takes you to the Blue Lagoon, we noticed a rather large convoy of RVs approaching. One by one they all turned off the highway onto the secondary road. “What do you want to bet that they’re going to the Blue Lagoon?” asked Simone. Sure enough, they were. The secondary road snakes through barren lava fields and it was almost surreal to see RVs twisting and turning down the road for as far as the eye can see.
The long and winding road to the Blue Lagoon. Normally the road looks like this (empty):
We arrived at the Blue Lagoon at 9:30am. It took us a good 10 minutes to get into the parking lot, however, because it took so long for the RV drivers to park their rigs. It was quite funny – the lead RV turned into the first section of the parking lot and then carefully backed into the furthest parking space. The rest of the RVs followed, each backing into the next space down, etc. There was a certain gracefulness to it.
Outside the Blue Lagoon. The square building in the background is the entrance to the Blue Lagoon:
To get into the Blue Lagoon you have to pass through subway-style turnstiles. You don’t plug money into the turnstiles, though. Instead, you wave a blue wrist band that they give you over a sensor, which activates the turnstile so you can walk through. The wrist band also controls your locker. When you close the locker door you wave your wrist band over another sensor and it secures the locker door. It can only be unlocked by waving your wrist band over the sensor again. And, although we didn’t try it, you can also pay for drinks and food at the Blue Lagoon Bar with your wrist band. Cool, huh?
The change rooms were very posh with leather ottomans, special primping and preening stations, and frosted glass doors. They almost had a spa appearance. We didn’t bother changing into our swimming suits because you cannot enter the Blue Lagoon unless you’ve showered with your suit off. They insist on this because the waters are not treated with chlorine or any other purifying chemicals. You have to be clean before you enter the waters otherwise they would be a cesspool.
Walkway around the Blue Lagoon:
I was nominated to enjoy the 30-minute massage that we’d booked the day before, and had to dash off to the farthest end of the lagoon right away. My masseur was a really nice guy from Serbia. He worked as a physiotherapist during the week and at the lagoon on the weekends. The massage was very interesting because it’s performed while I was lying on a floating foam bed in the lagoon. I felt like I was weightless, for one, and the gentle rocking that resulted from the massage was strangely appealing.
After the massage I entered the main pool of the lagoon and met up with Mom and Simone. They’d already done a tour of the various pools and had retreated to one of the cooler pools. Simone offered to “show me around” and the first stop was a wooden box containing white goop that she insisted I rub all over my face. The goop is some kind of silica that is supposed to have healing properties. Some people got really into it and spread it all over their bodies. I stuck to rubbing it over my face and neck.
Our next stop was the largest pool. The further you got into the pool, the hotter it got. At the furthest extent of the pool was a rock barrier and signs indicating it wasn’t safe to go any further. It was clear why it wasn’t safe – the water on the other side of the barrier was boiling, literally.
After getting lobsterized in the big pool we headed back to the small pool where Mom was hanging out. Next to that pool was a round Hobbit-sized door – I’m not joking! – that led into a sauna. We went in and sat in the darkness and heat for about 10 minutes. When a new supply of steam was added to the sauna we couldn’t hack it anymore and left. I’d seen other people whack their heads on the top of the door frame as they left and was careful to duck as we departed.
Outside the sauna was a waterfall of sorts, under which about three or four people could stand. The only way to become one of those three or four people was to loiter aggressively a foot or two away until one of them felt guilty and stepped away. Then you had to jump under the waterfall before someone else could claim the spot. So, that is what we did. The water fell onto us with such force that it was like getting a really good massage. So, that was why it was so popular!
Mom was starting to get a bit overheated and hungry, so we exited the lagoon and headed back inside to clean up. The lagoon waters make your hair incredibly knotty and dry so we spent a long time in the showers applying liberal doses of the free conditioner. I also helped myself to the free body wash in an unsuccessful attempt to wash off the minerals from the lagoon. It didn’t work and I spent the rest of the day with skin that felt vaguely waxy.
We had lunch at the Blue Lagoon and then headed back to the hostel to hang up our suits and get changed into city-worthy clothing. Then we drove into Reykjavik to the Vithey ferry terminal. We caught the 2pm ferry to Vithey and spent the next 1.5 hours tromping down several of the paths that lead to viewpoints and historic sites on the island. Simone wanted to walk to some of the more remote parts of the island but my legs just couldn’t hack it. We stopped for coffee in the historic house by the ferry dock, checked out the church, and then ambled down to the dock to catch the 4:30pm return sailing to Reykjavik.
Ambling about Vithey:
Field of thistles:
Close up of thistles:
On the dock waiting for the ferry back to Reykjavik:
We stopped in Reykjavik to talk to the car rental company about the best way to return the car the following day. After discussing many different options we agreed that I would drop off the car in Reykjavik the next morning and catch the FlyBus to the airport while Mom and Simone would stay at the hostel and catch a cab to the airport.
With that settled we headed back to the hostel in Njarthvik where we set about repacking our bags for the flight home the next day. I managed to pack almost all of my belongings and purchases into my backpack and only needed to ask Mom to put a couple of my purchases into her suitcase.
The long and winding road to the Blue Lagoon. Normally the road looks like this (empty):
We arrived at the Blue Lagoon at 9:30am. It took us a good 10 minutes to get into the parking lot, however, because it took so long for the RV drivers to park their rigs. It was quite funny – the lead RV turned into the first section of the parking lot and then carefully backed into the furthest parking space. The rest of the RVs followed, each backing into the next space down, etc. There was a certain gracefulness to it.
Outside the Blue Lagoon. The square building in the background is the entrance to the Blue Lagoon:
To get into the Blue Lagoon you have to pass through subway-style turnstiles. You don’t plug money into the turnstiles, though. Instead, you wave a blue wrist band that they give you over a sensor, which activates the turnstile so you can walk through. The wrist band also controls your locker. When you close the locker door you wave your wrist band over another sensor and it secures the locker door. It can only be unlocked by waving your wrist band over the sensor again. And, although we didn’t try it, you can also pay for drinks and food at the Blue Lagoon Bar with your wrist band. Cool, huh?
The change rooms were very posh with leather ottomans, special primping and preening stations, and frosted glass doors. They almost had a spa appearance. We didn’t bother changing into our swimming suits because you cannot enter the Blue Lagoon unless you’ve showered with your suit off. They insist on this because the waters are not treated with chlorine or any other purifying chemicals. You have to be clean before you enter the waters otherwise they would be a cesspool.
Walkway around the Blue Lagoon:
I was nominated to enjoy the 30-minute massage that we’d booked the day before, and had to dash off to the farthest end of the lagoon right away. My masseur was a really nice guy from Serbia. He worked as a physiotherapist during the week and at the lagoon on the weekends. The massage was very interesting because it’s performed while I was lying on a floating foam bed in the lagoon. I felt like I was weightless, for one, and the gentle rocking that resulted from the massage was strangely appealing.
After the massage I entered the main pool of the lagoon and met up with Mom and Simone. They’d already done a tour of the various pools and had retreated to one of the cooler pools. Simone offered to “show me around” and the first stop was a wooden box containing white goop that she insisted I rub all over my face. The goop is some kind of silica that is supposed to have healing properties. Some people got really into it and spread it all over their bodies. I stuck to rubbing it over my face and neck.
Our next stop was the largest pool. The further you got into the pool, the hotter it got. At the furthest extent of the pool was a rock barrier and signs indicating it wasn’t safe to go any further. It was clear why it wasn’t safe – the water on the other side of the barrier was boiling, literally.
After getting lobsterized in the big pool we headed back to the small pool where Mom was hanging out. Next to that pool was a round Hobbit-sized door – I’m not joking! – that led into a sauna. We went in and sat in the darkness and heat for about 10 minutes. When a new supply of steam was added to the sauna we couldn’t hack it anymore and left. I’d seen other people whack their heads on the top of the door frame as they left and was careful to duck as we departed.
Outside the sauna was a waterfall of sorts, under which about three or four people could stand. The only way to become one of those three or four people was to loiter aggressively a foot or two away until one of them felt guilty and stepped away. Then you had to jump under the waterfall before someone else could claim the spot. So, that is what we did. The water fell onto us with such force that it was like getting a really good massage. So, that was why it was so popular!
Mom was starting to get a bit overheated and hungry, so we exited the lagoon and headed back inside to clean up. The lagoon waters make your hair incredibly knotty and dry so we spent a long time in the showers applying liberal doses of the free conditioner. I also helped myself to the free body wash in an unsuccessful attempt to wash off the minerals from the lagoon. It didn’t work and I spent the rest of the day with skin that felt vaguely waxy.
We had lunch at the Blue Lagoon and then headed back to the hostel to hang up our suits and get changed into city-worthy clothing. Then we drove into Reykjavik to the Vithey ferry terminal. We caught the 2pm ferry to Vithey and spent the next 1.5 hours tromping down several of the paths that lead to viewpoints and historic sites on the island. Simone wanted to walk to some of the more remote parts of the island but my legs just couldn’t hack it. We stopped for coffee in the historic house by the ferry dock, checked out the church, and then ambled down to the dock to catch the 4:30pm return sailing to Reykjavik.
Ambling about Vithey:
Field of thistles:
Close up of thistles:
On the dock waiting for the ferry back to Reykjavik:
We stopped in Reykjavik to talk to the car rental company about the best way to return the car the following day. After discussing many different options we agreed that I would drop off the car in Reykjavik the next morning and catch the FlyBus to the airport while Mom and Simone would stay at the hostel and catch a cab to the airport.
With that settled we headed back to the hostel in Njarthvik where we set about repacking our bags for the flight home the next day. I managed to pack almost all of my belongings and purchases into my backpack and only needed to ask Mom to put a couple of my purchases into her suitcase.
9.8.09
EYRARBAKKI TO NJARTHVIK
We slept in at Eyrarbakki, knowing that we only had a short jaunt to our final hostel of the trip. We lolled about until after 10am before packing up and heading out. We drove to the museum and church that the proprietor had recommended visiting but they were both closed and didn’t open until the afternoon. Dang.
On the map there was a numbered road running along the south coast of the peninsula that connected Eyrarbakki to Grindavik. It was more direct than taking the highway north to Reykjavik and then circling around the peninsula from there, so we decided to give it a go. Things were going well for a while but eventually we ran into the dreaded “malbik endar” and were onto gravel. The road was rutted all to heck and the Yaris was getting shaken something awful, so we decided to turn back and take the main road like everyone else.
Our first stop of the day was Garthskagi, where there are two lighthouses. One is old and one is new. Unfortunately we couldn’t get inside either of them and were stuck wandering around the outside, which was kind of boring.
The old lighthouse:
The coastline. Note the low tide. It stank like you wouldn't believe:
The new lighthouse:
From there we drove to Sandgerthi, a village that is dedicated to commercial fishing and fish processing. There was a nice Nature Center there and we quite enjoyed wandering around looking at pickled specimens in jars, stuffed birds and small mammals, bones, and the like.
The harbor at Sandgerthi:
As we drove around the peninsula Simone spotted a sign with the Celtic knot design that Iceland Tourism uses to indicate sights and attractions. We turned off the road out of curiosity. When we got to the parking area we discovered we’d stopped at the mid-Atlantic ridge, where you can literally see where the European and North American continents meet. Simone practically started hyperventilating, she was so excited.
The mid-Atlantic ridge:
At Grindavik, our final destination of the day, we stopped at the Saltfisker (Saltfish) Museum. We thought it would be more museum-y. Instead it was more like an interpretive center. It was also extremely hot inside and we had to cut short our visit because we were so uncomfortable. Still, it was interesting and provided some insight into the Icelandic economy, which seems to swing from prosperity to poverty every few years.
From Grindavik we drove back towards Njarthvik, where we were staying for the next couple of nights. We were going to drive past the Blue Lagoon so I suggested that we pop in to check out the facilities prior to our visit the next morning. I asked one of the front desk agents where the spa entrance was, explaining that we had appointments the next morning. I expected her to point somewhere and be done with it, but it turns out there are different entrances to the spa based on the type of treatment you’ve ordered. So, instead, she asked our names and looked in the reservation book for our appointments.
Lava fields covered in moss. The road to the Blue Lagoon is basically blasted out of a giant lava field:
She also frowned. And flipped pages. And asked us again when our appointments were. Then, looking grave, she said that we were not in the appointment book. I can’t really remember what happened next, except that Mom and Simone both got very upset. Mom had booked our spa appointments well over a month before. So, she was mad that they’d screwed up on the reservation. Simone had been looking forward to her 1.5 hour massage through the whole trip and was angry that she wouldn’t be able to enjoy that experience.
A supervisor was called over and checked everything again. They had indeed failed to book our spa appointments. At that point I walked away because I hate conflict and figured that if anything could be done, Mom and Simone could sort it out. There was one 30-minute massage session available the next morning, which we booked. By way of apology, the supervisor also arranged for us to get free passes to the Blue Lagoon, which normally cost $30 per person. And that's all that could be done.
By then we were all tired and emotional and needed to sustenance, so we got back in the car and drove to Njarthvik in near silence. We booked in and quickly settled into our tiny room. Simone went for a therapeutic shower, Mom did some therapeutic sorting and packing, and I enjoyed a couple of therapeutic drinks. (Hey – we all have our own ways to cope, so to each his/her own!)
After dinner, Mom and I watched “Hot Fuzz” on the laptop while Simone read. We were in bed by 9pm, but didn’t get to sleep until quite a bit later because of all the door slamming, stomping, talking, cooking, and dish clanging going on. Oh, the joys of hostelling!
On the map there was a numbered road running along the south coast of the peninsula that connected Eyrarbakki to Grindavik. It was more direct than taking the highway north to Reykjavik and then circling around the peninsula from there, so we decided to give it a go. Things were going well for a while but eventually we ran into the dreaded “malbik endar” and were onto gravel. The road was rutted all to heck and the Yaris was getting shaken something awful, so we decided to turn back and take the main road like everyone else.
Our first stop of the day was Garthskagi, where there are two lighthouses. One is old and one is new. Unfortunately we couldn’t get inside either of them and were stuck wandering around the outside, which was kind of boring.
The old lighthouse:
The coastline. Note the low tide. It stank like you wouldn't believe:
The new lighthouse:
From there we drove to Sandgerthi, a village that is dedicated to commercial fishing and fish processing. There was a nice Nature Center there and we quite enjoyed wandering around looking at pickled specimens in jars, stuffed birds and small mammals, bones, and the like.
The harbor at Sandgerthi:
As we drove around the peninsula Simone spotted a sign with the Celtic knot design that Iceland Tourism uses to indicate sights and attractions. We turned off the road out of curiosity. When we got to the parking area we discovered we’d stopped at the mid-Atlantic ridge, where you can literally see where the European and North American continents meet. Simone practically started hyperventilating, she was so excited.
The mid-Atlantic ridge:
At Grindavik, our final destination of the day, we stopped at the Saltfisker (Saltfish) Museum. We thought it would be more museum-y. Instead it was more like an interpretive center. It was also extremely hot inside and we had to cut short our visit because we were so uncomfortable. Still, it was interesting and provided some insight into the Icelandic economy, which seems to swing from prosperity to poverty every few years.
From Grindavik we drove back towards Njarthvik, where we were staying for the next couple of nights. We were going to drive past the Blue Lagoon so I suggested that we pop in to check out the facilities prior to our visit the next morning. I asked one of the front desk agents where the spa entrance was, explaining that we had appointments the next morning. I expected her to point somewhere and be done with it, but it turns out there are different entrances to the spa based on the type of treatment you’ve ordered. So, instead, she asked our names and looked in the reservation book for our appointments.
Lava fields covered in moss. The road to the Blue Lagoon is basically blasted out of a giant lava field:
She also frowned. And flipped pages. And asked us again when our appointments were. Then, looking grave, she said that we were not in the appointment book. I can’t really remember what happened next, except that Mom and Simone both got very upset. Mom had booked our spa appointments well over a month before. So, she was mad that they’d screwed up on the reservation. Simone had been looking forward to her 1.5 hour massage through the whole trip and was angry that she wouldn’t be able to enjoy that experience.
A supervisor was called over and checked everything again. They had indeed failed to book our spa appointments. At that point I walked away because I hate conflict and figured that if anything could be done, Mom and Simone could sort it out. There was one 30-minute massage session available the next morning, which we booked. By way of apology, the supervisor also arranged for us to get free passes to the Blue Lagoon, which normally cost $30 per person. And that's all that could be done.
By then we were all tired and emotional and needed to sustenance, so we got back in the car and drove to Njarthvik in near silence. We booked in and quickly settled into our tiny room. Simone went for a therapeutic shower, Mom did some therapeutic sorting and packing, and I enjoyed a couple of therapeutic drinks. (Hey – we all have our own ways to cope, so to each his/her own!)
After dinner, Mom and I watched “Hot Fuzz” on the laptop while Simone read. We were in bed by 9pm, but didn’t get to sleep until quite a bit later because of all the door slamming, stomping, talking, cooking, and dish clanging going on. Oh, the joys of hostelling!
8.8.09
HVOLLSVOLLUR TO EYRARBAKKI
We woke early, out of habit, and enjoyed the luxurious shower. Simone went to reception to see if they had a hair dryer that she could borrow and, in the process, discovered that a breakfast buffet was included in the cost of the room. Sweet!
We’d seen an interesting turf-roofed house on the road to the Farm Guesthouse Smaratun, so we stopped on our way back to the highway. It was a lovely old place with the most interesting doorway:
Nearby was an old fishing boat, totally out of its element in the middle of a field:
Our first attraction of the day was a volcanic crater. Unfortunately, our ability to enjoy it was curtailed by the pouring rain and fierce wind. Now, before we left for Iceland many people wondered why we would travel to such a cold climate in the middle of summer. We assured them that the average temperature in the summer is in the mid-teens and the weather would be quite pleasant. It seems, however, that we’ve been dragging the same rain cloud around with us for the last few days. We picked it up in Seythisfjorthur and it has been our constant companion ever since. It probably thinks that, since we are Canadians, we like the rain and wind and that it’s doing us a favor by keeping us in our preferred conditions.
Ze crater:
After the crater-dash we drove to Skalholt, a quaint village that was the educational and cultural center of Iceland for several hundred years. The main destination in the village is the church, which has been destroyed and rebuilt no less than four times. The church itself is a typical Icelandic church with a very plain interior. However, on the way out we noticed stairs leading downstairs and a sign saying “museum in the crypt”. Curious, we went down to check it out. We were absolutely stunned to find a gorgeous little archaeological museum filled with ancient stones and artifacts discovered during a dig in the 1950s. The most impressive artifact was a stone coffin which originally housed a bishop but was dug up and filled with the bodies/bones of other important folk. There was also a doorway leading to a tunnel that connected the church to the nearby farmhouse. Historically, it was used to avoid the cold weather outside and as a means to escape the farmhouse or church during an attack.
The church at Skalholt:
Our third attraction of the day was Geysir, a large hot spring where two geysers blow towers of super-heated water up into the air on a regular basis. There were literally hundreds of tourists milling about and it was hard to get photos that didn’t include someone in the foreground or background. As we approached one particularly popular hot spring we were taken by surprise when it erupted. We didn’t realize it was a geyser and were quite shocked by the noise and the water shooting up into the air. We weren’t sure how often it erupted so we wandered around a bit before coming back. Thankfully the geyser, named Strokkur, erupted every 5 to 10 minutes.
Waiting for Strokkur:
Strokkur erupting:
There was a decent cafeteria at the Geysir park so we stopped there for lunch. Once again the choices were limited. I had the usual:
After lunch we drove to the Gullfoss waterfall. It was beautiful but our raincloud had followed us and it started tipping down with rain as soon as we stepped out of the car. Simone’s camera seized up in the damp so she headed back to the car while I took photos from as many angles as possible.
The Gullfoss waterfall. Not as impressive as Gothafoss, in my opinion:
I’d noticed earlier that there was a road just south of Geysir that connected to Thingvellir, the site of the ancient Icelandic parliament. I asked Mom and Simone if they wanted to go there or not. They said “sure!” so off we went. The site of Thingvellir is quite underwhelming. It’s literally just a field and some rocks, with a nice waterfall nearby. We walked around until we couldn’t stand the rain anymore, and then headed back to the car. We stopped at the wee gift shop to see if they had any interesting postcards or information sheets on Thingvellir but they didn’t. Simone, however, found a topographic map of Iceland for a friend back home. She’d been looking for one ever since we arrived and this was the first time she’d spotted one. Score!
There was a lovely waterfall at Thingvellir:
The Law Rock at Thingvellir:
We’d pretty much had it for the day so we backtracked to Selfoss, where we picked up some groceries before heading to the hostel in Eyrarbakki. From the outside the hostel looked like an industrial building. The only indication that it was a hostel was the cheery Hostelling International flag. We went into a building that said “farmer’s market” to ask about the hostel. It turns out the farmer’s market/industrial complex WAS the hostel:
The proprietor was a lovely woman who suggested a bunch of places to visit before leading us to our room. Our room turned out to be a gorgeous modern suite with a full kitchen, dining room, a spa bathroom, living room, and a large bedroom. We were absolutely floored. We were hoping for a tiny room with bunk beds and a private toilet. We got a lot more than that!
We’d seen an interesting turf-roofed house on the road to the Farm Guesthouse Smaratun, so we stopped on our way back to the highway. It was a lovely old place with the most interesting doorway:
Nearby was an old fishing boat, totally out of its element in the middle of a field:
Our first attraction of the day was a volcanic crater. Unfortunately, our ability to enjoy it was curtailed by the pouring rain and fierce wind. Now, before we left for Iceland many people wondered why we would travel to such a cold climate in the middle of summer. We assured them that the average temperature in the summer is in the mid-teens and the weather would be quite pleasant. It seems, however, that we’ve been dragging the same rain cloud around with us for the last few days. We picked it up in Seythisfjorthur and it has been our constant companion ever since. It probably thinks that, since we are Canadians, we like the rain and wind and that it’s doing us a favor by keeping us in our preferred conditions.
Ze crater:
After the crater-dash we drove to Skalholt, a quaint village that was the educational and cultural center of Iceland for several hundred years. The main destination in the village is the church, which has been destroyed and rebuilt no less than four times. The church itself is a typical Icelandic church with a very plain interior. However, on the way out we noticed stairs leading downstairs and a sign saying “museum in the crypt”. Curious, we went down to check it out. We were absolutely stunned to find a gorgeous little archaeological museum filled with ancient stones and artifacts discovered during a dig in the 1950s. The most impressive artifact was a stone coffin which originally housed a bishop but was dug up and filled with the bodies/bones of other important folk. There was also a doorway leading to a tunnel that connected the church to the nearby farmhouse. Historically, it was used to avoid the cold weather outside and as a means to escape the farmhouse or church during an attack.
The church at Skalholt:
Our third attraction of the day was Geysir, a large hot spring where two geysers blow towers of super-heated water up into the air on a regular basis. There were literally hundreds of tourists milling about and it was hard to get photos that didn’t include someone in the foreground or background. As we approached one particularly popular hot spring we were taken by surprise when it erupted. We didn’t realize it was a geyser and were quite shocked by the noise and the water shooting up into the air. We weren’t sure how often it erupted so we wandered around a bit before coming back. Thankfully the geyser, named Strokkur, erupted every 5 to 10 minutes.
Waiting for Strokkur:
Strokkur erupting:
There was a decent cafeteria at the Geysir park so we stopped there for lunch. Once again the choices were limited. I had the usual:
After lunch we drove to the Gullfoss waterfall. It was beautiful but our raincloud had followed us and it started tipping down with rain as soon as we stepped out of the car. Simone’s camera seized up in the damp so she headed back to the car while I took photos from as many angles as possible.
The Gullfoss waterfall. Not as impressive as Gothafoss, in my opinion:
I’d noticed earlier that there was a road just south of Geysir that connected to Thingvellir, the site of the ancient Icelandic parliament. I asked Mom and Simone if they wanted to go there or not. They said “sure!” so off we went. The site of Thingvellir is quite underwhelming. It’s literally just a field and some rocks, with a nice waterfall nearby. We walked around until we couldn’t stand the rain anymore, and then headed back to the car. We stopped at the wee gift shop to see if they had any interesting postcards or information sheets on Thingvellir but they didn’t. Simone, however, found a topographic map of Iceland for a friend back home. She’d been looking for one ever since we arrived and this was the first time she’d spotted one. Score!
There was a lovely waterfall at Thingvellir:
The Law Rock at Thingvellir:
We’d pretty much had it for the day so we backtracked to Selfoss, where we picked up some groceries before heading to the hostel in Eyrarbakki. From the outside the hostel looked like an industrial building. The only indication that it was a hostel was the cheery Hostelling International flag. We went into a building that said “farmer’s market” to ask about the hostel. It turns out the farmer’s market/industrial complex WAS the hostel:
The proprietor was a lovely woman who suggested a bunch of places to visit before leading us to our room. Our room turned out to be a gorgeous modern suite with a full kitchen, dining room, a spa bathroom, living room, and a large bedroom. We were absolutely floored. We were hoping for a tiny room with bunk beds and a private toilet. We got a lot more than that!
7.8.09
HVOLL TO HVOLLSVOLLUR
Another nice thing about the hostel at Hvoll was that you could pay a nominal fee for a breakfast buffet, which we did. It had the usual coffee, juice, toast, cereal, sliced ham, and cheese. It also had a real treat – cured lamb, sliced thinly – which we all tried. It had a very strong flavor of salt and spices and smoke.
After breakfast we headed out to the car but got sidetracked petting the farmer’s dog, Koppir, and talking to the farmer about Icelandic politics. He had very strong opinions about the collapse of Iceland’s banks, Iceland’s recent application to join the European Union, and the future of the world economy. It was interesting to get his perspective on recent events, but it was clear that he would be happy to talk for hours and hours. At about the 20 minute mark we were able to get a word in, and Simone quickly thanked him for the chat and shook his hand, and then we made a beeline for the car.
The lovely Koppir:
We had a really short day so we took our time driving south west along the coast. Our first stop was Vik, where we visited the Reynisdrangar black sand beach. At the west end of the beach are “sea stacks” which look like rock fingers reaching out of the sea. Simone ventured down to the beach for photos but Mom and I stayed up on the path to avoid getting our shoes full of black sand.
The sea stacks:
The black sand beach:
Our second stop was the Skogafoss waterfall. You can walk right up to the waterfall and stand in the large vapor cloud created when the water hits the river bed below. You can also climb up to the top of the waterfall. Simone hared off up to the top of the waterfall right away. Mom and I stayed below, but after a few pictures I decided to give it a try.
Skogafoss waterfall:
The stairs up to the top of the waterfall were a bit rickety and fairly narrow, just wide enough for two people to pass each other. To make things more interesting, there was only one handrail and it was blowing a gale. At one point I stepped away from the handrail to let someone pass. Just then there was a huge gust of wind. I nearly fell off the stairs and tumbled to my death. Half-way up, the clouds decided to release all of the moisture they’d been holding and I was quickly soaked to the skin. By the time I’d made it up to the top of the stairs my camera lens had fogged up and I couldn’t take any photos. Oh, well. I chalked the climb up as good exercise and headed back down the stairs.
Mom and Simone were waiting for me in the car. They clapped and gave me the thumbs up. They also gave me two towels. By that time it was noon and we were hungry, so we stopped for lunch in the restaurant/café next to the Skogar information center. After lunch we drove to the nearby folk museum, but balked at the $10 entrance fee and decided to give it a miss.
We arrived at the Farm Guesthouse Smaratun shortly after 3pm. We checked in and got settled into our room, then drove back to Hvollsvollur to check out the Saga Museum. It was an impressive museum that was largely dedicated to Njal’s Saga, the favorite Icelandic saga. It was quite interesting. In the museum shop I asked the woman at the reception if there were any other shops or things to see in town and she mentioned a handicrafts shop and a wool shop. Unfortunately the handicrafts shop was closed and the wool shop was underwhelming.
We stopped for coffee at a funky pottery studio/café before heading back to the guesthouse. I opened a bottle of sauvignon blanc that I’d purchased earlier and Simone and I enjoyed a couple of glasses of wine. Around 7pm we walked down to the restaurant for dinner. The dinner special was a salmon appetizer, a lamb and roast potato entree, and a fruit dessert for $42. We weren’t planning to have the dinner special, but a few minutes after we sat down the salmon arrived. It was too late to say no to the meal, so we went with it – and it’s a good thing we did! Yum! The salmon was amazing, the lamb was exquisite, and the fruit was delicious. It was by far the best meal we’ve had in Iceland. After dinner we spent some time checking email, repacking, and drying clothes before heading to bed.
After breakfast we headed out to the car but got sidetracked petting the farmer’s dog, Koppir, and talking to the farmer about Icelandic politics. He had very strong opinions about the collapse of Iceland’s banks, Iceland’s recent application to join the European Union, and the future of the world economy. It was interesting to get his perspective on recent events, but it was clear that he would be happy to talk for hours and hours. At about the 20 minute mark we were able to get a word in, and Simone quickly thanked him for the chat and shook his hand, and then we made a beeline for the car.
The lovely Koppir:
We had a really short day so we took our time driving south west along the coast. Our first stop was Vik, where we visited the Reynisdrangar black sand beach. At the west end of the beach are “sea stacks” which look like rock fingers reaching out of the sea. Simone ventured down to the beach for photos but Mom and I stayed up on the path to avoid getting our shoes full of black sand.
The sea stacks:
The black sand beach:
Our second stop was the Skogafoss waterfall. You can walk right up to the waterfall and stand in the large vapor cloud created when the water hits the river bed below. You can also climb up to the top of the waterfall. Simone hared off up to the top of the waterfall right away. Mom and I stayed below, but after a few pictures I decided to give it a try.
Skogafoss waterfall:
The stairs up to the top of the waterfall were a bit rickety and fairly narrow, just wide enough for two people to pass each other. To make things more interesting, there was only one handrail and it was blowing a gale. At one point I stepped away from the handrail to let someone pass. Just then there was a huge gust of wind. I nearly fell off the stairs and tumbled to my death. Half-way up, the clouds decided to release all of the moisture they’d been holding and I was quickly soaked to the skin. By the time I’d made it up to the top of the stairs my camera lens had fogged up and I couldn’t take any photos. Oh, well. I chalked the climb up as good exercise and headed back down the stairs.
Mom and Simone were waiting for me in the car. They clapped and gave me the thumbs up. They also gave me two towels. By that time it was noon and we were hungry, so we stopped for lunch in the restaurant/café next to the Skogar information center. After lunch we drove to the nearby folk museum, but balked at the $10 entrance fee and decided to give it a miss.
We arrived at the Farm Guesthouse Smaratun shortly after 3pm. We checked in and got settled into our room, then drove back to Hvollsvollur to check out the Saga Museum. It was an impressive museum that was largely dedicated to Njal’s Saga, the favorite Icelandic saga. It was quite interesting. In the museum shop I asked the woman at the reception if there were any other shops or things to see in town and she mentioned a handicrafts shop and a wool shop. Unfortunately the handicrafts shop was closed and the wool shop was underwhelming.
We stopped for coffee at a funky pottery studio/café before heading back to the guesthouse. I opened a bottle of sauvignon blanc that I’d purchased earlier and Simone and I enjoyed a couple of glasses of wine. Around 7pm we walked down to the restaurant for dinner. The dinner special was a salmon appetizer, a lamb and roast potato entree, and a fruit dessert for $42. We weren’t planning to have the dinner special, but a few minutes after we sat down the salmon arrived. It was too late to say no to the meal, so we went with it – and it’s a good thing we did! Yum! The salmon was amazing, the lamb was exquisite, and the fruit was delicious. It was by far the best meal we’ve had in Iceland. After dinner we spent some time checking email, repacking, and drying clothes before heading to bed.
6.8.09
SEYTHISFJORTHUR TO HVOLL
We were up before 7am and on the road by 7:30am. The fog had lifted slightly and we were amazed at all of the waterfalls and gorgeous farms that were hidden from view the day before. The road was less frightening once I could see where I was going.
We had decided the day before that we couldn’t follow the instructions in the Hostelling Iceland itinerary for the east fjords, simply because turning onto the side roads to see the fjords would have added 200+ kilometers to the already outrageous drive we had planned. So, we stuck to the main highway and headed directly south.
The highway was good at first and I was “hauling ass to Hofn” at a good 125 km/hr (the speed limit it 90 km/hr). We were all shocked when we saw a sign that said something like “malbik endar” and we suddenly found ourselves on rough gravel. I drove the Yaris like a rally car around – and sometimes over – the millions of pot holes and ruts. The road continued like that for what seemed like a very long time and we were starting to wonder if we’d taken a wrong turn. Just as we were starting to get concerned the gravel road ended and we were back onto the regular tar road. Shortly after that we entered a small town and the signs confirmed we were still on the main highway.
The dreaded "malbik endar":
We were on and off the tar and gravel roads for another hour or two. Eventually we made it to Breithdalsvik, at the south of the east fjords, and began our drive south west toward the Vatnajokull glacier. We reached Hofn by noon and, with the help of the Lonely Planet, found a nice restaurant where we stopped for lunch.
Taking the Yaris 4x4-ing:
Gorgeous stormy beach along the coast:
Mom enjoying the view and the chance to stretch her legs:
After lunch we continued heading south west through the Myrar valley. At the end of the valley was the Jokusarlon lagoon, where the Breithamerkurjokull finger of the Vatnajokull glacier calves off icebergs that float out to sea. As we turned off the road to the lagoon we knew it would be a major attraction because the parking lot was full of tour buses and cars and people dressed in their finest cold-weather outdoor gear.
Zodiak and bundled-up tourists:
The lagoon was amazing. The mini-bergs were blue on the bottom, white in the middle, and often covered with dirt on the top. It made for a strange sight. I tried to take good pictures but I found that the range of my lens just wasn’t cutting it. I really wished I had a wide-angle or a fish-eye lens so I could capture more of the lagoon in each shot.
Three views of the lagoon:
Some tourists got to see the mini-bergs up close on an amphibious bus/boat. The vehicles drove up to a ramp where the tourists boarded. Then they drove off down the shoreline and entered the lagoon. They couldn’t get very far into the lagoon, so each trip lasted less than 20 minutes. However, it must’ve been really cool to get up close and personal with the bergs.
The amphibious bus/boat:
We pressed on, travelling through the Oraefi valley past the turn off to the Skaftafell national park. From there it was a straight shot to Vik, and onwards to our final destination, the Farm Guesthouse Smaratun at Hvollsvollur. Simone was a speeding machine until we got into Vik and she set off what I thought was photo radar. It turned out to be a warning light, thankfully. After gassing up, Simone handed off the keys to me for the final drive to Hvollsvollur.
(Simone here: As we entered the town the posted limit was 50 km so I slowed down accordingly. There was the equivalent of a ‘veloci-meter’ that showed drivers what their speed was as they passed through. I didn’t think anything of it until Rowena exclaimed “It just flashed twice and I think you had your photo taken!” I felt sick. After a whole day of driving (and yes, sometimes over the limit), I was going to get a ticket for doing the 53 km/hr that was on the screen when the flashes occurred. “Poop!” I thought (ok, well not ‘poop’ but you get the idea). It turns out that the ‘veloci-meters’ are merely that - a good visual for drivers to get them to slow down. Phew! It certainly got my heart rate up.)
A few kilometers out of Vik, Simone flipped through the folder where we were keeping the Hostelling Iceland itinerary, various maps, and print-outs of hostel and hotel reservations. Out of the blue, she asked “What day is it?” It was Wednesday the 5th. There was silence for a moment and then she said “It says here that we’re staying in the hostel in Hvoll tonight.” That warranted pulling over for confab.
Sure enough, I’d gotten confused about the date. We were indeed staying at the hostel in Hvoll that night, not at the Farm Guesthouse Smaratun in Hvollsvollur. Unfortunately, we were now a good 200 kms past Hvoll. To make things worse, the reservation sheet for the hostel said that they would only hold our room until 6pm. It was now 4:30pm. I turned the Yaris around and started burning rubber back east toward Vik and Hvoll.
Simone suggested stopping at the Vik hostel to have them call ahead and save our room. Good idea, right? The only problem was that we couldn’t find the hostel. We drove around for a bit and then gave up. Our only option was to speed like we’d never sped before, which we did. We arrived at the hostel in Hvoll a few minutes before 6pm, absolutely wrecked from the long day, which turned out to be longer than necessary.
The hostel turned out to be a large out-building on a working farm. It turned out to be one of the nicest hostels I’ve ever been in, with nice rooms, several private kitchens, and a large communal dining area. Dinner was a camping packet, since we didn’t have time to stop and get supplies in the panic to get to the hostel. We also had some left-over pasta from the previous night. After dinner we headed up to the room. We were shattered and we all hit the sack (or, in this case, bunk) by 8pm.
We had decided the day before that we couldn’t follow the instructions in the Hostelling Iceland itinerary for the east fjords, simply because turning onto the side roads to see the fjords would have added 200+ kilometers to the already outrageous drive we had planned. So, we stuck to the main highway and headed directly south.
The highway was good at first and I was “hauling ass to Hofn” at a good 125 km/hr (the speed limit it 90 km/hr). We were all shocked when we saw a sign that said something like “malbik endar” and we suddenly found ourselves on rough gravel. I drove the Yaris like a rally car around – and sometimes over – the millions of pot holes and ruts. The road continued like that for what seemed like a very long time and we were starting to wonder if we’d taken a wrong turn. Just as we were starting to get concerned the gravel road ended and we were back onto the regular tar road. Shortly after that we entered a small town and the signs confirmed we were still on the main highway.
The dreaded "malbik endar":
We were on and off the tar and gravel roads for another hour or two. Eventually we made it to Breithdalsvik, at the south of the east fjords, and began our drive south west toward the Vatnajokull glacier. We reached Hofn by noon and, with the help of the Lonely Planet, found a nice restaurant where we stopped for lunch.
Taking the Yaris 4x4-ing:
Gorgeous stormy beach along the coast:
Mom enjoying the view and the chance to stretch her legs:
After lunch we continued heading south west through the Myrar valley. At the end of the valley was the Jokusarlon lagoon, where the Breithamerkurjokull finger of the Vatnajokull glacier calves off icebergs that float out to sea. As we turned off the road to the lagoon we knew it would be a major attraction because the parking lot was full of tour buses and cars and people dressed in their finest cold-weather outdoor gear.
Zodiak and bundled-up tourists:
The lagoon was amazing. The mini-bergs were blue on the bottom, white in the middle, and often covered with dirt on the top. It made for a strange sight. I tried to take good pictures but I found that the range of my lens just wasn’t cutting it. I really wished I had a wide-angle or a fish-eye lens so I could capture more of the lagoon in each shot.
Three views of the lagoon:
Some tourists got to see the mini-bergs up close on an amphibious bus/boat. The vehicles drove up to a ramp where the tourists boarded. Then they drove off down the shoreline and entered the lagoon. They couldn’t get very far into the lagoon, so each trip lasted less than 20 minutes. However, it must’ve been really cool to get up close and personal with the bergs.
The amphibious bus/boat:
We pressed on, travelling through the Oraefi valley past the turn off to the Skaftafell national park. From there it was a straight shot to Vik, and onwards to our final destination, the Farm Guesthouse Smaratun at Hvollsvollur. Simone was a speeding machine until we got into Vik and she set off what I thought was photo radar. It turned out to be a warning light, thankfully. After gassing up, Simone handed off the keys to me for the final drive to Hvollsvollur.
(Simone here: As we entered the town the posted limit was 50 km so I slowed down accordingly. There was the equivalent of a ‘veloci-meter’ that showed drivers what their speed was as they passed through. I didn’t think anything of it until Rowena exclaimed “It just flashed twice and I think you had your photo taken!” I felt sick. After a whole day of driving (and yes, sometimes over the limit), I was going to get a ticket for doing the 53 km/hr that was on the screen when the flashes occurred. “Poop!” I thought (ok, well not ‘poop’ but you get the idea). It turns out that the ‘veloci-meters’ are merely that - a good visual for drivers to get them to slow down. Phew! It certainly got my heart rate up.)
A few kilometers out of Vik, Simone flipped through the folder where we were keeping the Hostelling Iceland itinerary, various maps, and print-outs of hostel and hotel reservations. Out of the blue, she asked “What day is it?” It was Wednesday the 5th. There was silence for a moment and then she said “It says here that we’re staying in the hostel in Hvoll tonight.” That warranted pulling over for confab.
Sure enough, I’d gotten confused about the date. We were indeed staying at the hostel in Hvoll that night, not at the Farm Guesthouse Smaratun in Hvollsvollur. Unfortunately, we were now a good 200 kms past Hvoll. To make things worse, the reservation sheet for the hostel said that they would only hold our room until 6pm. It was now 4:30pm. I turned the Yaris around and started burning rubber back east toward Vik and Hvoll.
Simone suggested stopping at the Vik hostel to have them call ahead and save our room. Good idea, right? The only problem was that we couldn’t find the hostel. We drove around for a bit and then gave up. Our only option was to speed like we’d never sped before, which we did. We arrived at the hostel in Hvoll a few minutes before 6pm, absolutely wrecked from the long day, which turned out to be longer than necessary.
The hostel turned out to be a large out-building on a working farm. It turned out to be one of the nicest hostels I’ve ever been in, with nice rooms, several private kitchens, and a large communal dining area. Dinner was a camping packet, since we didn’t have time to stop and get supplies in the panic to get to the hostel. We also had some left-over pasta from the previous night. After dinner we headed up to the room. We were shattered and we all hit the sack (or, in this case, bunk) by 8pm.
5.8.09
AKUREYRI TO SEYTHISFJORTHUR
We hit the road at about 8:30am. Our first stop was the N1 gas station, at the junction of a large bridge that crosses a narrow point on the fjord. From there we headed east toward Lake Myvatn. According to the Hostelling Iceland itinerary our first stop was Gothafoss waterfall. Again, we saw what looked like water vapor in the distance but nearly drove past the waterfall. Actually, thinking back on it, we did have to reverse down the highway a few meters to get back to the road leading to the waterfalls.
The sign for Gothafoss:
Gothafoss Waterfall was amazing. It wasn’t wide or tall, but it was pretty. Like many other attractions, there were no level paths leading to view points or even rails preventing you from going over the edge. Simone climbed across to a fairly large rock overlooking the falls but Mom and I stayed well back and took pictures from afar.
A full view of the falls:
Above the falls:
After the photo op at Gothafoss we got back on the road. We blasted past Lake Myvatn, not realizing that there were only a couple of places where you could pull off to admire it. As we were hurtling down the road at 110 km/h I saw a small sign to the right and managed to read “Dimm...” I slammed on the breaks and turned around. The sign was for Dimmuborgir lava park, the next attraction on the day’s itinerary. We turned the Yaris onto the unassuming dirt road and headed up the hill. As we rounded a corner a large parking lot appeared, along with a large building housing washrooms, a gift shop, and – most importantly – a café that served fresh-brewed coffee. Simone and Mom hadn’t had their morning caffeine fix so they were in desperate need.
After they had their coffee we headed down the trail into the lava park. It was like walking into Mordor. I took so many pictures that I nearly drained my camera battery. We spent about 45 minutes walking around the park. We could have spent hours there, since some paths covered kilometers of the park. However, we had to press on so we returned to the car to continue our journey.
I wish I had a better lens. This just doesn't capture the vastness of Dimmuborgir:
Rock and sky:
Simone sitting on the rock throne:
In the land of Mordor:
Mom was sad because we didn’t stop at Lake Myvatn, so after consulting the map and discussing our schedule, we decided we could afford to turn around and head back to the lake. As we approached the first view point we were absolutely gob-smacked to see 5 tour buses and about 30 cars parked there, and at least 150 people walking around the hills above the lake. That’s when we realized we’d missed another attraction – the Skutustathir pseudo craters which line the banks of the lake. We found a place to park and then headed down the path with all of the other tourists.
I led us slightly astray by taking the right branch of a path instead of the left. We eventually realized we’d passed the crater that we wanted to see and turned back. As we walked up the path to the lip of the crater we mingled with a gaggle of Italian tourists from one of the tour buses. They were absolutely astounded to see me walking along in sandals, shorts, and a t-shirt. They were all bundled up in sub-zero parkas, pants, hiking boots, and toques. I could see how they might need a few more layers because they’re so used to warm temperatures. However, I thought the parkas and toques were overkill.
Tourists standing on the edge of the pseudo-crater:
"Look, rocks!":
By the time we finished touring the pseudo craters we were all feeling a bit peckish. I consulted the map and saw that there was an N1 gas station at the turn off to Egillstathir. We decided to stop there to grab a quick and cheap lunch. However, when we pulled in to the gas station it was clear that it didn’t have the large cafeteria that we were used to. Instead, it had a small supermarket. I wanted something substantial for lunch so I made the executive decision to drive on to the next group of buildings to see if we could find a café. We did find a café, but once inside we vetoed having lunch there because of the outrageous prices.
Back at the supermarket we were inspecting the grim selection of baked goods and pre-packaged sandwiches when I noticed a board on the counter advertising burgers, fries, hot dogs, and paninis. Bingo! I ordered the burger and fries, Simone ordered a panini, and Mom ordered a hot dog – all for less than $20.
According to the Hostelling Iceland itinerary there were no more attractions along the road to Seythisfjorthur. However, when we descended from a mountain pass we saw a huge parking lot full of tour buses and cars, and we knew we needed to stop and take a look.
The parking lot was for the Namafjall geothermal hot springs. These weren’t nice hot springs, but rather boiling mud holes giving off noxious gases. The wind was strong so thankfully the gases were whisked away quickly. I’d hate to visit the site on a windless day. Peee-ew! Nonetheless it was worth the stop and we did get some amazing photos of steaming earth painted yellow and blue by minerals.
Lovely-looking mud hole:
Steam rising from the ground:
We spent the rest of the afternoon burning up kilometers in the Yaris. We made it to Egillstathir around 2:30pm. Egillstathir is the capital of East Iceland. It has about 1,500 inhabitants and is one of the newest cities in the country. We had decided against staying there because it lacked much history or culture. Instead, we had booked a room at the hostel in Seythisfjorthur, an historic fishing and trading village located about 45 km away on the edge of a fjord.
We turned onto the road to Seythisfjorthur and it soon became clear that to get to the village we’d have to drive over a mountain pass. About halfway up the mountain we ascended into a cloudbank. The rest of the ride was somewhat miserable because I could only see 10 m ahead of me at the best of times, the road was twisty, and the inclines were butt-clenchingly steep. I was very relieved to descend into the valley and turn off onto the road leading to the hostel.
The hostel was described on the Hostelling Iceland site as funky and artsy. They forgot to mention that it is also old, with thin walls, and creaky bunkbeds. Oh, well. I liked the somewhat slap-dab look of the place and the homey furnishings.
View from the hostel to the fjord:
Waterfalls and fog on the mountain behind the hostel:
The authors of the Lonely Planet guide books raved about the arts and crafts in Seythisfjorthur, so we were eager to get out and explore the shops in town. We asked when the shops closed and received a somewhat quizzical look before learning that they closed at 6pm. I looked up a couple of shops in the Lonely Planet guide book and we headed off.
I got a bit turned about in town but we eventually found the Skaftafell Cultural Center, which was described as the artistic hub of the community. We discovered that it also had a bistro/café on the ground floor. We walked through the bistro/café to the gallery and were quite taken aback by the crappy installation artwork. I should have taken a picture of the main “piece” – it literally looked like someone had had explosive diarrhea all over the wall, ceiling, and floor.
We left the gallery and drove around looking for other craft shops. We spotted a “handicrafts” sign and pulled in to check it out. The gallery side of the room was okay, with lots of abstract landscape paintings. However, the crafts side of the room was disappointing. Imagine the worst crochet, the ugliest beadwork, and the most old-fashioned knitwear you can. Then add the smell of a second-hand store and the mismatched tables from a church basement, and you’ve got the picture.
Our final stop in town was a small room off a woman’s house. She was actually selling some very sophisticated wool clothing, leather handbags, and silver jewelry. The problem was the cost. Not everyone can afford to spend $300 on a wool jumper.
We hit up the supermarket on the way home and scoped out dinner options. The selection was limited and I ended up buying a small bag of pasta to cook up with a package of Alfredo sauce that Mom brought from home. Back at the hostel we showered, unpacked, and then headed to the kitchen and dining room for dinner. My pasta dinner was rather tasty, and easy to cook in the tiny kitchen.
After dinner Mom and I watched “The Darjeeling Limited” on the computer while Simone read a book. We all hit the sack around 9pm, tired from the long day. We set the alarm for 6:30am because the next day we had to cover 500+ kilometers and we wanted to make sure we had enough time to get to our destination and to visit attractions along the way.
The sign for Gothafoss:
Gothafoss Waterfall was amazing. It wasn’t wide or tall, but it was pretty. Like many other attractions, there were no level paths leading to view points or even rails preventing you from going over the edge. Simone climbed across to a fairly large rock overlooking the falls but Mom and I stayed well back and took pictures from afar.
A full view of the falls:
Above the falls:
After the photo op at Gothafoss we got back on the road. We blasted past Lake Myvatn, not realizing that there were only a couple of places where you could pull off to admire it. As we were hurtling down the road at 110 km/h I saw a small sign to the right and managed to read “Dimm...” I slammed on the breaks and turned around. The sign was for Dimmuborgir lava park, the next attraction on the day’s itinerary. We turned the Yaris onto the unassuming dirt road and headed up the hill. As we rounded a corner a large parking lot appeared, along with a large building housing washrooms, a gift shop, and – most importantly – a café that served fresh-brewed coffee. Simone and Mom hadn’t had their morning caffeine fix so they were in desperate need.
After they had their coffee we headed down the trail into the lava park. It was like walking into Mordor. I took so many pictures that I nearly drained my camera battery. We spent about 45 minutes walking around the park. We could have spent hours there, since some paths covered kilometers of the park. However, we had to press on so we returned to the car to continue our journey.
I wish I had a better lens. This just doesn't capture the vastness of Dimmuborgir:
Rock and sky:
Simone sitting on the rock throne:
In the land of Mordor:
Mom was sad because we didn’t stop at Lake Myvatn, so after consulting the map and discussing our schedule, we decided we could afford to turn around and head back to the lake. As we approached the first view point we were absolutely gob-smacked to see 5 tour buses and about 30 cars parked there, and at least 150 people walking around the hills above the lake. That’s when we realized we’d missed another attraction – the Skutustathir pseudo craters which line the banks of the lake. We found a place to park and then headed down the path with all of the other tourists.
I led us slightly astray by taking the right branch of a path instead of the left. We eventually realized we’d passed the crater that we wanted to see and turned back. As we walked up the path to the lip of the crater we mingled with a gaggle of Italian tourists from one of the tour buses. They were absolutely astounded to see me walking along in sandals, shorts, and a t-shirt. They were all bundled up in sub-zero parkas, pants, hiking boots, and toques. I could see how they might need a few more layers because they’re so used to warm temperatures. However, I thought the parkas and toques were overkill.
Tourists standing on the edge of the pseudo-crater:
"Look, rocks!":
By the time we finished touring the pseudo craters we were all feeling a bit peckish. I consulted the map and saw that there was an N1 gas station at the turn off to Egillstathir. We decided to stop there to grab a quick and cheap lunch. However, when we pulled in to the gas station it was clear that it didn’t have the large cafeteria that we were used to. Instead, it had a small supermarket. I wanted something substantial for lunch so I made the executive decision to drive on to the next group of buildings to see if we could find a café. We did find a café, but once inside we vetoed having lunch there because of the outrageous prices.
Back at the supermarket we were inspecting the grim selection of baked goods and pre-packaged sandwiches when I noticed a board on the counter advertising burgers, fries, hot dogs, and paninis. Bingo! I ordered the burger and fries, Simone ordered a panini, and Mom ordered a hot dog – all for less than $20.
According to the Hostelling Iceland itinerary there were no more attractions along the road to Seythisfjorthur. However, when we descended from a mountain pass we saw a huge parking lot full of tour buses and cars, and we knew we needed to stop and take a look.
The parking lot was for the Namafjall geothermal hot springs. These weren’t nice hot springs, but rather boiling mud holes giving off noxious gases. The wind was strong so thankfully the gases were whisked away quickly. I’d hate to visit the site on a windless day. Peee-ew! Nonetheless it was worth the stop and we did get some amazing photos of steaming earth painted yellow and blue by minerals.
Lovely-looking mud hole:
Steam rising from the ground:
We spent the rest of the afternoon burning up kilometers in the Yaris. We made it to Egillstathir around 2:30pm. Egillstathir is the capital of East Iceland. It has about 1,500 inhabitants and is one of the newest cities in the country. We had decided against staying there because it lacked much history or culture. Instead, we had booked a room at the hostel in Seythisfjorthur, an historic fishing and trading village located about 45 km away on the edge of a fjord.
We turned onto the road to Seythisfjorthur and it soon became clear that to get to the village we’d have to drive over a mountain pass. About halfway up the mountain we ascended into a cloudbank. The rest of the ride was somewhat miserable because I could only see 10 m ahead of me at the best of times, the road was twisty, and the inclines were butt-clenchingly steep. I was very relieved to descend into the valley and turn off onto the road leading to the hostel.
The hostel was described on the Hostelling Iceland site as funky and artsy. They forgot to mention that it is also old, with thin walls, and creaky bunkbeds. Oh, well. I liked the somewhat slap-dab look of the place and the homey furnishings.
View from the hostel to the fjord:
Waterfalls and fog on the mountain behind the hostel:
The authors of the Lonely Planet guide books raved about the arts and crafts in Seythisfjorthur, so we were eager to get out and explore the shops in town. We asked when the shops closed and received a somewhat quizzical look before learning that they closed at 6pm. I looked up a couple of shops in the Lonely Planet guide book and we headed off.
I got a bit turned about in town but we eventually found the Skaftafell Cultural Center, which was described as the artistic hub of the community. We discovered that it also had a bistro/café on the ground floor. We walked through the bistro/café to the gallery and were quite taken aback by the crappy installation artwork. I should have taken a picture of the main “piece” – it literally looked like someone had had explosive diarrhea all over the wall, ceiling, and floor.
We left the gallery and drove around looking for other craft shops. We spotted a “handicrafts” sign and pulled in to check it out. The gallery side of the room was okay, with lots of abstract landscape paintings. However, the crafts side of the room was disappointing. Imagine the worst crochet, the ugliest beadwork, and the most old-fashioned knitwear you can. Then add the smell of a second-hand store and the mismatched tables from a church basement, and you’ve got the picture.
Our final stop in town was a small room off a woman’s house. She was actually selling some very sophisticated wool clothing, leather handbags, and silver jewelry. The problem was the cost. Not everyone can afford to spend $300 on a wool jumper.
We hit up the supermarket on the way home and scoped out dinner options. The selection was limited and I ended up buying a small bag of pasta to cook up with a package of Alfredo sauce that Mom brought from home. Back at the hostel we showered, unpacked, and then headed to the kitchen and dining room for dinner. My pasta dinner was rather tasty, and easy to cook in the tiny kitchen.
After dinner Mom and I watched “The Darjeeling Limited” on the computer while Simone read a book. We all hit the sack around 9pm, tired from the long day. We set the alarm for 6:30am because the next day we had to cover 500+ kilometers and we wanted to make sure we had enough time to get to our destination and to visit attractions along the way.
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