Iceland Day 4

Jeri created one of her famous savory breakfasts as I heated up coffee in the shared kitchen. This was to be our last day in Iceland, and as per our modus operandi we got a late start with only superficially researching our destination. Adventuring on this trip was very flexible as we made it up on the fly. The spirit of exploration guide our efforts, and we let the Tao do the rest.

Thursday, November 2

This day was full of beautiful contrast. We encountered intense rain as we drove across the Ölfusá River — so bad that visibility was restricted to those moments when the the windshield wipers slapped the downpour out of the way for a half second. Thor had truly split the clouds this morning.

Suddenly the rain stopped, and the remaining droplets in the sky, joined with the low angle of the sun, to display a multitude of rainbows for the entire rest of the day — seven fully visible, incredibly bright rainbows on our last foray in the Southern Region of Iceland.

Krýsuvík

A Geothermal Area

With the rain out of the way, blue sky began peeking through the clouds, and rays of sunshine spot-lighted environmental fascinations as we gain elevation on Reykjanes, the southwestern tip of the peninsula. Kleifarvatn, the largest lake on the peninsula, distinguished itself from the surrounding reds and browns of the caustic vista by emanating a blue-green color that broke through the scarred features of the Mid-Atlantic Ridge.

Looking northeast from Krýsuvík towards Kleifarvatn.
— a local legend claims that a worm-shaped monster, the size of a whale, lives in the lake; and with no above ground water ways leading in or out, the monster would be stuck, however an earthquake at the beginning of the millennia caused a fissure that began draining the lake, which has reduced the lake’s surface area was reduced by more than 20%, and may have let the monster loose.

The ancient and worn landscape gave way to the bubbling, erupting, and scalding pools of new sulphuric activity.

It's a different kind øf renewal — the harsh rebirth øf fumarøles, mud pøts, and sølfataras.

Muted colors erupted as the clouds and the sun played games in the sky.

A network of wooden planks and gravel paths connect the park's elements. We ventured through the stench of rotten eggs, which sulfur is known for and with that in mind, I joked with my partner in crime — #jerifarted, which at the time was hilarious.

Sulfurous vapors engulfed the boardwalk as we snaked through the devilish playground.

Mineral-rich hot spring cascaded down to fill the stench bogs. The scalding water ran quickly in spots, and trickled in others. Investigating the colorful deposits took caution and agility. Offense fumes were quickly found when approaching any attractive looking photo op.

A beautiful place

#jerifarted

After wrapping up at the geo-park, we headed to the airport — rainbows guided us through karst landscape to our destination on the western end of the peninsula. We dropped off the rental car with plenty of time to catch our plane back to the states.

We left the ground as the setting sun dipped towards the horizon, creating a tapestry of cotton-candy colored clouds that lasted the entire 7.5 hour flight home, which put an exclamation point on this exciting, early chapter of our journey together.

With lots of love, and a bright future. XO!

Iceland Day 3, Heading South - Part 2

We continued our adventure towards the southern most village on the the island — Vík. As we advanced east, the low lying sun dipped towards the horizon bringing warm yellows, oranges and pinks; we knew we were in for a treat on the black sand at Reynisfjara Beach.

Little did we know that the igneous formations that crept out of the sea would draw our attention as much as the alluring sunset. With light fading fast, we gobbled as many views as we could before watching the celestial body disappear behind the curve of the earth.

Reynisfjara Beach

The Reynisfjara Beach exit off of the highway put us onto a winding road that cut through a valley towards the open view of the ocean As the vista opened onto the beach, we came to a parking lot with a little gift shop and hot beverages, and a bunch of people reinforcing the idea that we were in a special place.

Black sand carpeted the beach in an enchanting way. The minuscule, dark crystals of worn rock caught flickers of the fading light to bring our gaze towards the activity. Tourists inspected all aspects of the shoreline, including ominous spires rising from the crashing waves.

Reynisdrangar, the sea stacks, have a grand legend about trolls pulling a ship ashore. They also offer insight into the battle of rock vs water. The vertical rock formations pierce the water’s surface to be consistently hammered by powerful waves of the frigid North Atlantic.

Neighboring the sea-fairing formations, one main cave off the waters edge, is another focal point of explorers. The cavity rests at the foot of a cliffs edge, and dramatically exposes the textures of ancient volcanic activity.

With the cave to our backs, we glimpsed westward to see the warming light fade as the Sun’s chariot dipped towards the horizon.

Cold air off of the ocean quickened our desire for the comfort of the car, and we took one last breathe before leaving the captivating coast.

We reach the village of Vik quite quickly after leaving Reynisfjara Beach, and the full moon offered a picturesque view of the hillside church.

There’s no way that my phone’s camera could capture the incredible scene properly.

Iceland Day 3, Heading South - Part 1

The morning came quick as we rose from the Oddsson. The sun crested the horizon to illuminate the North Atlantic bay outside our window, so we decided to venture out into the brisk oceanic air to find fuel, in the form of breakfast.

Heading South

after coffee.

Wednesday, November 1

We had an extraordinary time walking along the old harbor. While strolling down the docks, we saw tour boat captains with empty vessels as they prepped for the day’s excursions. A quaint coffee house and bakery at the end of the dock caught our attention. Inside the cozy seaside café, we picked up a croissant and hot coffee before continuing to the grocery store.

Bonus is an Icelandic grocery store that sports a piggy bank as its mascot, and is by-far is the most economical place to buy anything edible. After combing through Icelandic meats, cheeses, chips, drinks, breads and Skyr (the best damn yogurt I’ve ever had), a trip to the gas station on our way out of town provided a breakfast hot dog for yours truly (*the beard)— Icelanders love their hot dogs, just like most Nordic countries, so when in Reykjavík…

View across the harbor showed a spit of land with a lighthouse on the end

Our full day’s adventure took us 185 miles from Reykjavík across the southern part of the island to Vik, the southern most village in Iceland; then back to the Riverside Guest House for the night. The road trip was broken up with a quick stop in Hella to drop off gear and check out the accommodations.

We then hopped back onto the highway in search of waterfalls. Seljalandsfoss was the main attraction, and in about 40 minutes, we turned off of HWY 1 onto the service road. Tour buses, vans and cars increased in density — this was a true tourist destination, and included a tremendous parking lot and restroom building.

The cold wind ripped between the vehicles with incredible intensity, and shook the car as we gathered our coats for exiting our mobile shelter.

From the parking lot there were a few different options that led to the viewing areas, and people seemed to be traversing in all directions, so we chose to view the first aquatic feature in a clockwise direction — which allowed us to climb a frozen staircase, rather than descend it.

(The pictures make it look nice and cozy, but in reality, the windchill was about 17° F.)

Atop the stairs, the path curved as it led us behind the waterfall. Jeri took the front, and advanced onward, to conquer the frozen spray that stung our cheeks. We soon found ourselves protected from the elements, beneath several tons of rock, in a concave space that peered through the glacier-fed downpour.

The sounds of crashing, splashing water magnified and distorted our senses as we explored the igneous formation. We followed the trail and upon exiting the experiential loop, we endured — to the one who lives in the canyon.

Gljúfrabúi

One who lives in the canyon

Gljúfrafoss, or Gljúfrabúi as it is also know, is only a few hundred yards from its larger sibling, and hides something special. Obscured by the outcropping rocks, this slender cascading feature lives up to its moniker, translated as “one who lives in the canyon”. The elegant formation plummets into a small pool behind the boulders.

Scouting the area showed that this character had many facets to investigate. Each one offered a level of intimacy that could not be found around Seljalandsfoss.

Looking out to the west after climbing up to see the top of the falls

The valley is expansive, frigid, and dramatically sun-kissed.

Subsequently, we examined the rest of the man-made facilities, and returned to the car for the windbreak it offered. Some snacks, and then back on the road to Vik, but before we get there — sunset on black sand beaches.