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!