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Travelogue | |
On this first jet-lagged day we picked up our cars and explored the peninsula south of Reykjavik, the Blue Lagoon thermal baths, and ate Icelandic hot dogs. Next day, Pingvellir National Park and Lake Pingvallavatn (the P actually has a 'th' sound, but is written closer to a P) where we stood on the place where the American and European tectonic plates touch in a “sprunga” (if you don't know Icelandic, it’s a fissure). Nearby, in Almannagja , we saw the site of Iceland’s first parliament (begins about the year 930) in the rain.
On to the geysers, which smell of sulfur, some are very high, others just steam; the whole landscape reminds me of paintings of hell. A fabulous waterfall--Seljalandsfoss: the water has eroded a hollow at the back of the cliff and you can walk behind the fall. Gullfoss is one of the best waterfalls I have seen and photographed in the rain, actually two falls, one in a long canyon. Foss means waterfall, of course.
July 18: Rain. We leave Reykjavik and drive south and east, along beach roads and villages, over “sandur”, that is, waterlogged moors and black gravel deposits from volcanoes, in an area of the longest lava flow ever. Beautiful foss (remember the word?), actually one wide and four narrow fosses. We then take an unpaved road to see Eyjafjallajokull, an icecap, and Gigjokull, a glacial lagoon with icebergs. The road wasn’t just unpaved; we had to drive across rivers, but stopped short of going across a deep one when we saw a high-clearance Nissan van whose wheels had all but disappeared in the water. We did get to the lagoon finally and saw one lonely iceberg--it was perhaps 8 inches in diameter. Another foss: 200 ft. high Skogarfoss.
Back to Jokulsarlon, a lake with many colored icebergs--blue, green, gray, brown, some white--where we had stopped (and nearly frozen to death) the day before. This time we took a boat ride among the icebergs, which separate from Vatnajokull and then swim in the lake.
On to the most desolate and isolated place in eastern Iceland, Husey Farm. We saw two infant seals playing in the grass, they had been abandoned by their mother and taken to the farm. There they have adopted the farmer and come to believe him to be their mother. When he came off his tractor, the seals barked with joy and waddled towards him. He picked them up, hugged them, and put them in an old car for the night.
July 24: Namafjall Hverir: Steam coming out of mud pools--this looked like the cauldrons at a witches’ convention. Went to waterfalls named Dettifoss, Selfoss, Hagalirfoss, all in Joculsa Canyon National Park. Rain. All of us want to return there on a sunny day. To Lake Myvatn and Drummigor with its fantastic sculpted lava. Basalt stacks at the lake. Our next destination is Akureyri, a big city in the north.
Shopping in Akureyri next day. Lots of hand-knitted wool sweaters, but also lots of Viking tchochkes. Big bookstore. We look at books by photographer Paul Stephanson, whose color prints we admired in Icelandair magazine, and at books by Iceland’s Nobel Prize winner, Halldor Laxness.
July 26: Longest ride of our trip, 263 miles to Olafsvik on Snaefellsnes peninsula in the northwest. We stopped at a museum of old houses, A-shaped, with turf on their roofs. Best weather yet--a real summer day. Down to one layer and no longjohns. We saw a large inland sea, “Hop,” and a humanoid-looking sea stack, “Hirtserkur,” said to be a petrified troll. On to Olafsvik through a landscape of craters, some black, some pink, and many with light green moss growing on their lower third. Blue skies lead us to assume weather will be good from now on and some of our group plan to go on a whale watching trip.
What was the funniest thing that happened? After Ronnie hurt her ankle while photographing horses, Caroline Flynn, our resident nurse, prescribed ice compresses. Victor went into a farm house to get ice cubes. The farmer had no cubes but offered Victor a package of about seven large frozen trout. Ronnie used them on her ankle and when they began to thaw we gave them to the cook in our hotel.
Apologies to all Icelanders for my misspellings--they are only partly due to my keyboard’s lack of Icelandic characters--and to my fellow travelers for inaccuracies, omissions or slights.
Watch the next Newsletter for a test on the meaning of sandur, foss, and jokull!
*(Helen Cooper told me it was a song and my granddaughter Anthea identified it as sung by the hip-hop band “Vanilla Ice”)
The following is based on my notes, but is not a complete account of a wonderful two weeks, beginning on July 15 in Reykjavik, at 6 a.m. (our time 2 a.m.).
Back to Reykjavik and our comfortable Hotel Loftleidir, run, as many hotels, by Icelandair. We ate at Loekjarbrekka, good food but we couldn’t pronounce it right. “Fiskur dags” means day’s special. On July 17 we stayed in Reykjavik because it rained, and explored museums and parks. One museum advertised a Viking exhibit, with Viking skeletons which had suffered sword wounds, ugly statues of Vikings living in ugly dwellings; the exhibit was assembled in England and the anti-Viking, or anti-Icelandic, attitude was obvious.
Then on to an entirely different landscape near the town of Vik, in Dyrholaey, south of Myrdalsjokull (here’s another word for you: jokull means ice cap, the j is pronounced as y). Dyrholaey has huge sea stacks called Renisdrangar, or Troll Rocks, inhabited by sea birds who nest there in the summer, and has weird Arizona-like rock formations. We drive in an amphibian vehicle over the sandur (see above) for view of the sea stacks, and tall arches in the water. Exotic arctic birds, like wimbrel and snipe, skua and puffin birds frolic in bright sunshine: the first day that I wear only 5 instead of 7 layers of clothing. Lighthouse on the sea stack but, as all Icelandic lighthouses, not attractive. Moon-like landscape along highway, all black sand and rocks, evidence of the lava flow. Near Vik is the site of a monastery, Pykkvabaejarklaustur, destroyed 500 years ago and mentioned here only because of the length of its name.
July 21: Drove past Vatnajokull, the biggest jokull (see above) in Europe, toward Hoefn. We stop at Skaftafell National Park and climb a trail to an extraordinary waterfall surrounded by basalt columns. The design of Iceland’s National Theater is said to be based on this scene. Hotel Edda is a boarding school with very simple accommodations but the best food we’ve so far eaten in Iceland. Next day we went on a hay wagon ride over the bumpy sandur in Ingolshoefdi, and climbed a black dune to a large sea stack. Its top was grassy and mossy, it was very windy, but the best puffin sightings so far.
July 23: We drove to a fjord, Borgarfjorder Eystri, on the northeast coast, saw a mountain of rhyolite, which is an acidic form of lava. We collected stones on the beach and bought some more at a store. A birding highlight of the trip: Near a town, Hafnarholmur, a staircase led up a sea stack, and we were within spitting distance of puffins and kittiwakes nesting. Puffins are cute, especially when they come in from the sea, sometimes with a mouthful of sardines, landing with their red feet with their red legs stretched out.
We took a ferry to Hrisy Island from the town of Arskogssandur and walked around there, 25 miles south of the Arctic circle. Sunshine! Back on the mainland we search for a scene I had wanted to photograph ever since we had left Reykjavik but one or two of the component parts I wanted in the picture were always lacking. This was the scene I wanted: (1) mountains in the background, (2) sunshine, (3) hay bales wrapped in light green plastic, and (4) irregularly placed on a field. Finally we saw my scene! And more: While we photographed, tractors bunched the hay together, made bales, and a third tractor picked up each bale and wrapped light green plastic around it.
July 27: Rain and gale-force winds. Whale watching is canceled. Hotel people speak of an “18 meter wind” so seriously we think they mean it’s a hurricane. Intrepid photographers we are, however, and we try to drive up to Snaefelljokull (you got it right--it’s another icecap) but have to turn back because of very thick fog. We drive along the shore instead, where terns sit motionless on the road, some already killed by cars. The terns don’t move for cars, but when Victor’s cap was blown off by the “18 meter wind” and carried about ten yards away, all the birds panicked, most likely perceiving Victor’s cap as a predator. Despite the weather, we saw fantastic shapes of craters and much grey-green moss covering black lava stones.
All in all, this was an excellent trip despite the occasional rain. As always, Chuck’s and Helen’s research was exhaustive, their selection of sites just right. We saw the best Iceland had to offer in landscapes, especially waterfalls and jokulls, in animal life, especially Icelandic horses (smaller and prettier than ours) and lots of puffins, kittiwakes and skuas, and we ate the best fish and herring. The cars functioned well and walkie-talkies kept the three drivers in communication at all times.
I felt that the experience of Iceland was enhanced by being part of a group of photographers who were always considerate, cooperative, helpful, concerned, willing to consult on film, lenses, F-stops and bracketing, as well as sharing food, clothing, and umbrellas. I could have stayed in Iceland much longer and hope to travel with them again.