Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Two with everything
Morning came quickly to Borgarnes. Our light-block shades worked wonders (after Katie turned off her head lamp). We had a lovely breakfast at Bjarta and begrudgingly left. We took the ring road through the tunnel and back to Reykjavik.
We booked a boat tour to see puffins (and were impressed by our Spanish-speaking guide, Jorge). I got some amazing shots of the amazing birds. Jorge is a Marine Biologist. He pointed out different species, recalled now extinct birds and gave us great insight into the remarkable adaptations of the puffin. It can dive down to 60 meters, is a very fast swimmer and a great fisherman.
We wandered the streets of Reykjavik and brought the trip full circle with hotdogs (two with everything) at the same famous hotdog stand (Bill Clinton even had a dog there once!) We enjoyed a slice of delicious chocolate cake at the Laundromat - a hip hangout. Then we bedded at the 1912 Guesthouse - clean and charming.
This morning (day 11) we are boarding our plane - having driven over 2100 kilometers. Iceland has been a great host and teacher. We both seek to return one day to the land of the midnight sun.
We booked a boat tour to see puffins (and were impressed by our Spanish-speaking guide, Jorge). I got some amazing shots of the amazing birds. Jorge is a Marine Biologist. He pointed out different species, recalled now extinct birds and gave us great insight into the remarkable adaptations of the puffin. It can dive down to 60 meters, is a very fast swimmer and a great fisherman.
We wandered the streets of Reykjavik and brought the trip full circle with hotdogs (two with everything) at the same famous hotdog stand (Bill Clinton even had a dog there once!) We enjoyed a slice of delicious chocolate cake at the Laundromat - a hip hangout. Then we bedded at the 1912 Guesthouse - clean and charming.
This morning (day 11) we are boarding our plane - having driven over 2100 kilometers. Iceland has been a great host and teacher. We both seek to return one day to the land of the midnight sun.
We need an explanitator
We awoke in Saudarkrokur and realized at breakfast why it was so desolate at night - we were the youngest people staying at the guest house by 4 decades! I would venture a guess that our fellow travelers were in bed by 9pm.
We filled up on a darn good breakfast and headed out. We drove back through horse country (we stopped to get Katie some face time with our equine pals) and stopped a couple of hours later at a roadside cafe.
Kaffi Munadarnes was on a path off the main road, facing a valley between snowcapped mountains. We were greeted by two 7-11 year old blond haired, blue eyed girls. They gave us a menu and we sat outside in the sun. We then realized that the entire menu was in Icelandic. I went inside to ask someone to "explanitate" it to me (Katie's new word). The woman of the house (it was a family-run operation) translated the crepes portion of the menu - that was all we needed. We ordered two and they were delicious! The chef (man of the house) brought out our meals then advised us on the remaining portion of our trip. He was a handsome man with a laugh that harkened to his Viking forefathers.
Then we started talking with a couple who were there with their three small kids. The father is from Illinois, the mother from Iceland and they are all living in Burbank, California now. They were kind and generous with their stories and advice. She regaled us with stories about trolls and elves. This is a good time to tell you that more than half the Icelandic people believe in trolls or elves. Roads are routed around their communities. Rocks that are obstacles to government projects remain undisturbed by civil engineers. When humans don't work around elf communities, there is always trouble - bad luck, repeated car accidents, etc.
She was also kind enough to explain what the massive rock piles were originally intended for - they were markers before the roadways were built. Otherwise, in an intense snow storm, you would NEVER find your way back!
We left with happy bellies and heads full of fun stories. Our final stop was Borgarnes. Having not researched the last half of the trip, it was done by sight and our Lonely Planet Guide to Iceland. We found a great place called Bjarta. It used to be a farm and is now a clean, elegant guesthouse that is efficiently run by two women. It is situated on the bay amongst wildflowers, with views of snowcaps. It was a wonderful place - we highly recommend it!
Our dinner at the Settlement House restaurant was great, topped off by Dillon cake with caramel sauce - reminiscent of sticky toffee pudding - yum!
It may sound odd, but one of our most treasured moments of the day was when Katie drew the light-block curtains at the guesthouse - it was truly dark - we hadn't had a traditional dark night's sleep all trip. What a treat! We celebrated the dark - reveled in it, really - like thirsty hikers finding a glacial lagoon. I am sure we were both dancing, though I couldn't see Katie...
The moment we got into bed, I heard a click, then the brightest light imaginable shone from Katie's headlamp - she opened her book and began to read by a light brighter than the sun.
Oh well...
We filled up on a darn good breakfast and headed out. We drove back through horse country (we stopped to get Katie some face time with our equine pals) and stopped a couple of hours later at a roadside cafe.
Kaffi Munadarnes was on a path off the main road, facing a valley between snowcapped mountains. We were greeted by two 7-11 year old blond haired, blue eyed girls. They gave us a menu and we sat outside in the sun. We then realized that the entire menu was in Icelandic. I went inside to ask someone to "explanitate" it to me (Katie's new word). The woman of the house (it was a family-run operation) translated the crepes portion of the menu - that was all we needed. We ordered two and they were delicious! The chef (man of the house) brought out our meals then advised us on the remaining portion of our trip. He was a handsome man with a laugh that harkened to his Viking forefathers.
Then we started talking with a couple who were there with their three small kids. The father is from Illinois, the mother from Iceland and they are all living in Burbank, California now. They were kind and generous with their stories and advice. She regaled us with stories about trolls and elves. This is a good time to tell you that more than half the Icelandic people believe in trolls or elves. Roads are routed around their communities. Rocks that are obstacles to government projects remain undisturbed by civil engineers. When humans don't work around elf communities, there is always trouble - bad luck, repeated car accidents, etc.
She was also kind enough to explain what the massive rock piles were originally intended for - they were markers before the roadways were built. Otherwise, in an intense snow storm, you would NEVER find your way back!
We left with happy bellies and heads full of fun stories. Our final stop was Borgarnes. Having not researched the last half of the trip, it was done by sight and our Lonely Planet Guide to Iceland. We found a great place called Bjarta. It used to be a farm and is now a clean, elegant guesthouse that is efficiently run by two women. It is situated on the bay amongst wildflowers, with views of snowcaps. It was a wonderful place - we highly recommend it!
Our dinner at the Settlement House restaurant was great, topped off by Dillon cake with caramel sauce - reminiscent of sticky toffee pudding - yum!
It may sound odd, but one of our most treasured moments of the day was when Katie drew the light-block curtains at the guesthouse - it was truly dark - we hadn't had a traditional dark night's sleep all trip. What a treat! We celebrated the dark - reveled in it, really - like thirsty hikers finding a glacial lagoon. I am sure we were both dancing, though I couldn't see Katie...
The moment we got into bed, I heard a click, then the brightest light imaginable shone from Katie's headlamp - she opened her book and began to read by a light brighter than the sun.
Oh well...
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Huffin and puffin
We awoke in our little cabin on the edge of the lake in Myvatn, ready for a good breakfast. We rolled up our sleeping bags, packed the car and headed back to the Cowshed Cafe. The greeter at the restaurant informed us that there was only 15 minutes left of the buffet. This instilled anxiety in Katie.
A normal breakfast at a buffet for me is a couple of pieces of toast, a palm sized amount of fruit, 1-2 piece of cheese and a slice or two of meat. And coffee, of course. Katie doubles my meal, then adds a yogurt, 2 bowls of cereal and a glass of milk or fruit juice. It is a sight to behold.
After filling our bellies and admiring a rainbow, we were off to the northwestern portion of Iceland - I admit that I had researched the last about that area, as the original plan was to only drive the south coast. We, once again, ran smack into a dense fog on the snowcapped mountains.
Once out of the fog, we entered another fiord valley. This time a wonderful little city was nestled within. Akureyri is like "little-Reykjavik", with great restaurants, shops and a charming and accessible feel for tourists. We really liked the feel of this town. We wondered what its population is - you see, Iceland is home to 300,000+ people. It is a small country in sq miles and in population. Well, it turns out that Akureyri is home to approximately 18,000. It certainly feels like a more bustling spot!
We were off into the mountains again. This time, our descent into horse country reminded us much of Ireland. We visited a croft house near our destination, Saudurkrokur. That is a home made of earth/turf. Surprisingly, it felt homey inside, as it protected us from the wicked wind.
When we got to our destination, we were wowed by the color of the fiord water - a wonderful robin's egg blue that eased into darker tones in the center. In the distance we could see two islands. Apparently, they are uninhabited - one of them is due to a curse that makes wives disappear after a decade - I figure any couple who lives in seclusion on an island is bound to have a "disappearance" after too much time together...
We had dinner at a local pub/restaurant and I ordered puffin - it was a cross between a bird and a fish, in taste. A good experience, but probably my last puffin meal.
We bedded at a mid-sized guesthouse. It wasn't our favorite town or hotel. But that is saying a LOT because of the high success rate we've had. Both the town and accommodations were desolate feeling - odd for a country that, to this point, had shown us very friendly people at every stop. On a Saturday night, we saw 5 people out (during our 1-hour walk). Most establishments were closed. I wonder if it is a bedroom community - people work, then go home to eat and sleep - little socialization.
I nodded off to sleep after beginning Independent People by Halldor Laxness - a great read!
A normal breakfast at a buffet for me is a couple of pieces of toast, a palm sized amount of fruit, 1-2 piece of cheese and a slice or two of meat. And coffee, of course. Katie doubles my meal, then adds a yogurt, 2 bowls of cereal and a glass of milk or fruit juice. It is a sight to behold.
After filling our bellies and admiring a rainbow, we were off to the northwestern portion of Iceland - I admit that I had researched the last about that area, as the original plan was to only drive the south coast. We, once again, ran smack into a dense fog on the snowcapped mountains.
Once out of the fog, we entered another fiord valley. This time a wonderful little city was nestled within. Akureyri is like "little-Reykjavik", with great restaurants, shops and a charming and accessible feel for tourists. We really liked the feel of this town. We wondered what its population is - you see, Iceland is home to 300,000+ people. It is a small country in sq miles and in population. Well, it turns out that Akureyri is home to approximately 18,000. It certainly feels like a more bustling spot!
We were off into the mountains again. This time, our descent into horse country reminded us much of Ireland. We visited a croft house near our destination, Saudurkrokur. That is a home made of earth/turf. Surprisingly, it felt homey inside, as it protected us from the wicked wind.
When we got to our destination, we were wowed by the color of the fiord water - a wonderful robin's egg blue that eased into darker tones in the center. In the distance we could see two islands. Apparently, they are uninhabited - one of them is due to a curse that makes wives disappear after a decade - I figure any couple who lives in seclusion on an island is bound to have a "disappearance" after too much time together...
We had dinner at a local pub/restaurant and I ordered puffin - it was a cross between a bird and a fish, in taste. A good experience, but probably my last puffin meal.
We bedded at a mid-sized guesthouse. It wasn't our favorite town or hotel. But that is saying a LOT because of the high success rate we've had. Both the town and accommodations were desolate feeling - odd for a country that, to this point, had shown us very friendly people at every stop. On a Saturday night, we saw 5 people out (during our 1-hour walk). Most establishments were closed. I wonder if it is a bedroom community - people work, then go home to eat and sleep - little socialization.
I nodded off to sleep after beginning Independent People by Halldor Laxness - a great read!
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Moo-ving right along
It was a king's breakfast at Hotel Aldan. We filled our bellies with delicious meats, cheeses, fruits and homemade breads. The bread in Iceland is always good. Then we checked out and went to the lagoon to meet our kayaking guide. He paddled up with two Canadians, as they ended their tour. He warmly greeted us and got us set up. We each wore a spray skirt, a life preserver and gloves. We then got a crash course on paddling and using the rudder on the boat. Then we put in the water and headed out.
It was dry and overcast. Thank goodness the overnight rain had stopped. We paddled out of the lagoon and into the fiord. Our handsome guide flirted with us the entire time... What a charmer! He gave us a brief history of the area, which has had success as a wildly abundant source of herring.
At one point, as we crossed the center of the fiord, we could smell oil. Our guide told us it was from a tanker that was sunk by German warplanes in WWII. It rests at the bottom under 45 meters of water. The oil still comes out of it sometimes. We could see the slick on the water.
We paddled back, enjoyed bone-warming mushroom soup and were on the road. We hauled petutee out to Myvatn. The 3-hour drive provided ever changing views. There were waterfalls and sheep farms to start. Followed by snowy mountains in fog. Then black desert-like wastelands. I photographed the stone piles arranged like sentinels on the undulating blonde grasses. Finally we arrived at the red clay mountains of Myvatn.
Before stopping at the nature bath, we pulled of at a series of steam vents. It wreaked of sulphur - much more intense an odor than the hot showers here. You see, Icelandic households are able to heat their houses and water using geothermal systems - taking advantage of what the earth here has to offer. It is an eco-friendly process. Sometimes the hot water smells of sulphur, which is apparently abundant under this top layer of the earth's crust.
So, when we walked up near the steam vents, we were bowled over by the sulphur. According to the sign, sulphur used to be harvested/mined here to make gun powder. We were taken by the color of the vents and of the dirt - bright red (the color of fresh blood) appeared underneath the thin top layer of orange clay.
It was very chilly, so after a few minutes, we opted to drive the short distance to the nature bath. This is a low key, low tech version of the Blue Lagoon. There were far fewer people. The facility was still nice and the waters were still calming.
After that, we tried to book a room at a couple of hotels via phone to no avail. We decided to ride into town to see if there were any small cabins available - we'd been seeing them along the way and Katie had been commenting about how cute they are.
We found a campsite with cabins and booked the last one. These are very similar to the cabins that my brother and I rented in Wyoming and Montana. These had a better heating system, though (and, Kyle, our cabin was marked "K1" on the key chain - K is for Kabin?)
Then we went to dinner at the Vogafjos Cafe - which I believe means the Cowshed Cafe. It is a nondescript farm building from the outside and a rustic-ish log cabin look on the inside, but fully modernized. It is situated in lush, green farmland on the edge of Myvatn Lake. I chose a table by the window while Katie harassed - no - patted some cows.
Our dinner was delicious! We had crepes, followed by a waffle with jam for Katie and a geysir bread icecream for me. The waitress explained, as I was pondering options, that it was a house specialty and invention. It was amazing! And, of course, we had a taste of milk that had just been squeezed from a cow - "fresh from a cow's teat," Katie said and she downed the warm, frothy milk. But, then she was instantly grossed out by the concept. I thought it was creamy, sweet and would be perfect with a shot of espresso!
After dinner, we met a nice couple who live in Ontario, but were originally from Sri Lanka. The woman had been bucked by a cow as a schoolgirl. She laughed as she told the story and said old friends still ask her to tell the story. Katie man-handled - no - visited with the cows who were now feeding inside. I made her clean up her hands before getting into the car. But the smell was still quite strong since the calves tried to eat parts of her jacket and pants, leaving behind green grass stains that smelled like a grassy fart. My odiferous companion was grinning from ear-to-ear about her cow visit.
We went back to the cabin where I wrote for a few minutes before crashing. I was exhausted!
Now I am finishing this blog entry at 1:00am to the sound of crickets. It is bright out, but still they know it is night... very interesting.
It was dry and overcast. Thank goodness the overnight rain had stopped. We paddled out of the lagoon and into the fiord. Our handsome guide flirted with us the entire time... What a charmer! He gave us a brief history of the area, which has had success as a wildly abundant source of herring.
At one point, as we crossed the center of the fiord, we could smell oil. Our guide told us it was from a tanker that was sunk by German warplanes in WWII. It rests at the bottom under 45 meters of water. The oil still comes out of it sometimes. We could see the slick on the water.
We paddled back, enjoyed bone-warming mushroom soup and were on the road. We hauled petutee out to Myvatn. The 3-hour drive provided ever changing views. There were waterfalls and sheep farms to start. Followed by snowy mountains in fog. Then black desert-like wastelands. I photographed the stone piles arranged like sentinels on the undulating blonde grasses. Finally we arrived at the red clay mountains of Myvatn.
Before stopping at the nature bath, we pulled of at a series of steam vents. It wreaked of sulphur - much more intense an odor than the hot showers here. You see, Icelandic households are able to heat their houses and water using geothermal systems - taking advantage of what the earth here has to offer. It is an eco-friendly process. Sometimes the hot water smells of sulphur, which is apparently abundant under this top layer of the earth's crust.
So, when we walked up near the steam vents, we were bowled over by the sulphur. According to the sign, sulphur used to be harvested/mined here to make gun powder. We were taken by the color of the vents and of the dirt - bright red (the color of fresh blood) appeared underneath the thin top layer of orange clay.
It was very chilly, so after a few minutes, we opted to drive the short distance to the nature bath. This is a low key, low tech version of the Blue Lagoon. There were far fewer people. The facility was still nice and the waters were still calming.
After that, we tried to book a room at a couple of hotels via phone to no avail. We decided to ride into town to see if there were any small cabins available - we'd been seeing them along the way and Katie had been commenting about how cute they are.
We found a campsite with cabins and booked the last one. These are very similar to the cabins that my brother and I rented in Wyoming and Montana. These had a better heating system, though (and, Kyle, our cabin was marked "K1" on the key chain - K is for Kabin?)
Then we went to dinner at the Vogafjos Cafe - which I believe means the Cowshed Cafe. It is a nondescript farm building from the outside and a rustic-ish log cabin look on the inside, but fully modernized. It is situated in lush, green farmland on the edge of Myvatn Lake. I chose a table by the window while Katie harassed - no - patted some cows.
Our dinner was delicious! We had crepes, followed by a waffle with jam for Katie and a geysir bread icecream for me. The waitress explained, as I was pondering options, that it was a house specialty and invention. It was amazing! And, of course, we had a taste of milk that had just been squeezed from a cow - "fresh from a cow's teat," Katie said and she downed the warm, frothy milk. But, then she was instantly grossed out by the concept. I thought it was creamy, sweet and would be perfect with a shot of espresso!
After dinner, we met a nice couple who live in Ontario, but were originally from Sri Lanka. The woman had been bucked by a cow as a schoolgirl. She laughed as she told the story and said old friends still ask her to tell the story. Katie man-handled - no - visited with the cows who were now feeding inside. I made her clean up her hands before getting into the car. But the smell was still quite strong since the calves tried to eat parts of her jacket and pants, leaving behind green grass stains that smelled like a grassy fart. My odiferous companion was grinning from ear-to-ear about her cow visit.
We went back to the cabin where I wrote for a few minutes before crashing. I was exhausted!
Now I am finishing this blog entry at 1:00am to the sound of crickets. It is bright out, but still they know it is night... very interesting.
Friday, June 17, 2011
What the fog?
Our morning view from Bolti was gorgeous. The sun was out (no surprise). But this time it brought a beautiful blue sky.
We grabbed breakfast at the visitors center and were on our way. The first stop was a lagoon about which the Fulbright scholar had told us. It was a desolate, bumpy road out to a quiet lagoon with icebergs in it. We hiked carefully down to the shore, as the hills were covered in brittle volcanic rock. We've learned to count on some sliding with each step. Only one other person was at the base.
We then headed to the more famous lagoon at Jokulsarlon. It was otherworldly. Huge icebergs floated lazily, then broke apart, causing waves - I actually caught this on video and had to scamper up the hill to avoid getting soggy shoes from the waves. We saw a few seals and lots of different kinds of birds, including a skua - a large, aggressive hunter.
We then followed the scholar's advice and drove to the beach. This black sand beach is at the mouth of the lagoon, where it empties into the ocean. The exiting icebergs get pushed back onto the shore, where you can touch them. It was amazing!
We left that site and drove the 370 kilometer trek to Seydisfjordur. Along the way, we saw stunning mountains, lakes, wild reindeer and LOTS of sheep. The last part is hard for Katie, who wants to snuggle all animals. Sheep in Iceland ALWAYS run away... ALWAYS. But this doesn't stop her from trying.
We had lunch in Hofn (pronounced like a hiccup). It is famous for its lobster and I can attest to why that is - sweet, tender and delicious!
The last leg of the trip was the most spooky. We had already scaled steep mountains on gravel roads during the preceding kilometers - an anxiety-producing feat for the driver. But this was another story entirely. We climbed to the top of the mountain in a pea-soup fog. There were feet of snow all around. I pulled off the road to play in the snow and had to use 4 wheel drive to get back on the road. As we descended, we had about 25-50 feet of visibility. It was white with snow or fog all around us. We would hear rushing water and then a waterfall would appear. There were many waterfalls. Kevin told us there would be.
The fog finally lifted. We arrived in town - the most lovely little fishing village with multicolored wooden houses and a charming baby blue church. We'd reserved a room by phone during lunch. The desk attendant at Hotel Aldan was very friendly and funny. She recommended a bistro down the street and warned us (sarcastically) about the woman working there.
Bistro Skaftfell is in the basement of an old building, has an adjoining gallery and epitomizes the bohemian culture of Seydisfjordur. The woman working there was, in spirit, the twin of our good friend, Asia Kepka - full of energy and confidence. We had great food, joked with the Icelandic Asia, and left with full bellies.
Our hotel room was cozy and had a spectacular view of the lagoon, some waterfalls and the kayaks that we reserved for the morning.
We drifted off to sleep once more in broad daylight.
We grabbed breakfast at the visitors center and were on our way. The first stop was a lagoon about which the Fulbright scholar had told us. It was a desolate, bumpy road out to a quiet lagoon with icebergs in it. We hiked carefully down to the shore, as the hills were covered in brittle volcanic rock. We've learned to count on some sliding with each step. Only one other person was at the base.
We then headed to the more famous lagoon at Jokulsarlon. It was otherworldly. Huge icebergs floated lazily, then broke apart, causing waves - I actually caught this on video and had to scamper up the hill to avoid getting soggy shoes from the waves. We saw a few seals and lots of different kinds of birds, including a skua - a large, aggressive hunter.
We then followed the scholar's advice and drove to the beach. This black sand beach is at the mouth of the lagoon, where it empties into the ocean. The exiting icebergs get pushed back onto the shore, where you can touch them. It was amazing!
We left that site and drove the 370 kilometer trek to Seydisfjordur. Along the way, we saw stunning mountains, lakes, wild reindeer and LOTS of sheep. The last part is hard for Katie, who wants to snuggle all animals. Sheep in Iceland ALWAYS run away... ALWAYS. But this doesn't stop her from trying.
We had lunch in Hofn (pronounced like a hiccup). It is famous for its lobster and I can attest to why that is - sweet, tender and delicious!
The last leg of the trip was the most spooky. We had already scaled steep mountains on gravel roads during the preceding kilometers - an anxiety-producing feat for the driver. But this was another story entirely. We climbed to the top of the mountain in a pea-soup fog. There were feet of snow all around. I pulled off the road to play in the snow and had to use 4 wheel drive to get back on the road. As we descended, we had about 25-50 feet of visibility. It was white with snow or fog all around us. We would hear rushing water and then a waterfall would appear. There were many waterfalls. Kevin told us there would be.
The fog finally lifted. We arrived in town - the most lovely little fishing village with multicolored wooden houses and a charming baby blue church. We'd reserved a room by phone during lunch. The desk attendant at Hotel Aldan was very friendly and funny. She recommended a bistro down the street and warned us (sarcastically) about the woman working there.
Bistro Skaftfell is in the basement of an old building, has an adjoining gallery and epitomizes the bohemian culture of Seydisfjordur. The woman working there was, in spirit, the twin of our good friend, Asia Kepka - full of energy and confidence. We had great food, joked with the Icelandic Asia, and left with full bellies.
Our hotel room was cozy and had a spectacular view of the lagoon, some waterfalls and the kayaks that we reserved for the morning.
We drifted off to sleep once more in broad daylight.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Microclimb-ates? (okay - that was hokey)
We awoke to a cool and windy morning in Steig and wandered to breakfast - no croissants. But it was lovely. There were French, German and American guests. Katie got a few good snuggles in with the sheep dog who, at 35 lbs, thinks she's a lap dog. I eavesdropped on the hostess telling some Germans about how during last year's eruption, guests were stranded for weeks - ash closed the road on one side and the road was dismantled on the other side to relieve flood waters. That story gave us ALL a little pep in our step - off we go!
Our first stop of the day was an amazing moonscape, punctuated with knee-high piles of rocks all around. Turns out the piles are an Icelandic tradition that is supposed to bring good luck to travelers. We opted to try it. We were freezing our petutees off - a German tourist told us that it snowed here last week!
The next stop was a gully that has been hollowed out of volcanic rock by water. It is covered in undulating silvery mosses. It was darn cold there, too.
As we drove along side several active volcanoes, we began to notice that the road in some areas was showing signs of recent ash drifts. As we stopped to view a glacial valley, we could see ash build up of 4-12 inches. It is a fine, black, soft sand. It was kind of warm there. We were now experiencing what we'd heard about Iceland - microclimates.
We drove another 80 kilometers to an amazing sculpture of twisted steel girders. This had been part of a bridge that was once a section of the ring road. A major eruption in 1996 melted an ice cap and sent water, bus-sized icebergs and debris flowing at top speed down the valley and out toward the ocean. It wiped out the bridge and the ring road for months. The twisted girders are all that remain.
We continued along to the foot of the largest glacier in Europe, and I believe, the largest outside of the polar icecaps. We stopped near Skaftafell to try a hike along the edge of the glacier on a mountainside. From the car to the glacier was a 10-20 degree difference. We had a minor rockslide above us - no injuries - but, we then knew to be aware of more. The glacial flow is mostly covered in ash from the most recent eruption in May. Warning signs cautioned us to remain on the path or on loose gravel, as icebergs melting over ash and mud can cause quicksand. We minded the rule. The trail head had a simple memorial for two German hikers (our age) who have been missing since 2007. That was enough to make us cautious.
Next, we had lunch at the Skaftafell visitors center. Sitting outside at the foot of the mountain, we had a great view of the glacier. We enjoyed the sun and a nice cool breeze.
We then headed to find the Bolti farmhouse. The steep, winding drive brought us to a plateau approximately 300-400 feet above the road. The lady of the house greeted us. She told us she had lived here since 1953 and had animals on the farm until her husband died in 1992. She has seen 10 eruptions in her time here. At probably 80 years old, she walks with a cane, but has a youthful way about her.
It had become quite windy and cold. We decided that the best defense was a good offense and we opted for a hike. We followed well-marked trails along a river until we found one of Iceland's most picturesque waterfalls, Svartifoss. The narrow falls are set in a curved cathedral-like bank of hexagonal basalt columns. It was breathtaking!
At the base of the falls, we met a couple of young people who live in Massachusetts. She works at UMass Amberst, her alma mater. He graduated from Harvard and is a Fulbright Scholar, studying geothermal energy in Iceland for 9 months. They were very nice and had a few tips of what to see.
We separated from them and headed back to the car, eager to find a good dinner spot. An arctic fox was by the car enjoying his dinner. What a treat for us!
On the advice of the farmhouse owner's helper, we chose the Foss Restaurant. Our meals were delicious - Katie opted for the lamb shank, and I for the farm-raised Atlantic char. You may or may not be surprised that Katie was still hungry enough after dinner to want to explore dessert options at the truck stop across the street. I obliged.
One of the advantages of endless daylight is round-the-clock hiking. So, at 8pm, we decided to hike to a different part of the glacier. The mountain's fragility was once again exposed as a new trail was being made to bypass a major rock slide that sent 6 foot by 6 foot rocks down the mountain. The birds were out in force and the winding trail took us to two glacial lagoons. In addition to cautions about quicksand, this sign warned that swimming in these lagoons would result in hypothermia, as the water is only 2 degrees Celsius - 35 degrees Fahrenheit. The smaller lagoon was a lovely blue/green, which I suppose could entice visitors to attempt a swim. There were few white icebergs visible in the larger lagoon, but it was still a stunning sight to see black icebergs lazily floating like ships.
We drove back to the farmhouse, grabbed our sleeping bags and claimed two unused bunks in the shared facility. The other beds were occupied by two kids from France and one from South Korea.
After beating Katie at 3 rounds of Boggle, it was time to call it a night. I am the last to fall asleep, as I type this to the sounds of multinational snoring.
Our first stop of the day was an amazing moonscape, punctuated with knee-high piles of rocks all around. Turns out the piles are an Icelandic tradition that is supposed to bring good luck to travelers. We opted to try it. We were freezing our petutees off - a German tourist told us that it snowed here last week!
The next stop was a gully that has been hollowed out of volcanic rock by water. It is covered in undulating silvery mosses. It was darn cold there, too.
As we drove along side several active volcanoes, we began to notice that the road in some areas was showing signs of recent ash drifts. As we stopped to view a glacial valley, we could see ash build up of 4-12 inches. It is a fine, black, soft sand. It was kind of warm there. We were now experiencing what we'd heard about Iceland - microclimates.
We drove another 80 kilometers to an amazing sculpture of twisted steel girders. This had been part of a bridge that was once a section of the ring road. A major eruption in 1996 melted an ice cap and sent water, bus-sized icebergs and debris flowing at top speed down the valley and out toward the ocean. It wiped out the bridge and the ring road for months. The twisted girders are all that remain.
We continued along to the foot of the largest glacier in Europe, and I believe, the largest outside of the polar icecaps. We stopped near Skaftafell to try a hike along the edge of the glacier on a mountainside. From the car to the glacier was a 10-20 degree difference. We had a minor rockslide above us - no injuries - but, we then knew to be aware of more. The glacial flow is mostly covered in ash from the most recent eruption in May. Warning signs cautioned us to remain on the path or on loose gravel, as icebergs melting over ash and mud can cause quicksand. We minded the rule. The trail head had a simple memorial for two German hikers (our age) who have been missing since 2007. That was enough to make us cautious.
Next, we had lunch at the Skaftafell visitors center. Sitting outside at the foot of the mountain, we had a great view of the glacier. We enjoyed the sun and a nice cool breeze.
We then headed to find the Bolti farmhouse. The steep, winding drive brought us to a plateau approximately 300-400 feet above the road. The lady of the house greeted us. She told us she had lived here since 1953 and had animals on the farm until her husband died in 1992. She has seen 10 eruptions in her time here. At probably 80 years old, she walks with a cane, but has a youthful way about her.
It had become quite windy and cold. We decided that the best defense was a good offense and we opted for a hike. We followed well-marked trails along a river until we found one of Iceland's most picturesque waterfalls, Svartifoss. The narrow falls are set in a curved cathedral-like bank of hexagonal basalt columns. It was breathtaking!
At the base of the falls, we met a couple of young people who live in Massachusetts. She works at UMass Amberst, her alma mater. He graduated from Harvard and is a Fulbright Scholar, studying geothermal energy in Iceland for 9 months. They were very nice and had a few tips of what to see.
We separated from them and headed back to the car, eager to find a good dinner spot. An arctic fox was by the car enjoying his dinner. What a treat for us!
On the advice of the farmhouse owner's helper, we chose the Foss Restaurant. Our meals were delicious - Katie opted for the lamb shank, and I for the farm-raised Atlantic char. You may or may not be surprised that Katie was still hungry enough after dinner to want to explore dessert options at the truck stop across the street. I obliged.
One of the advantages of endless daylight is round-the-clock hiking. So, at 8pm, we decided to hike to a different part of the glacier. The mountain's fragility was once again exposed as a new trail was being made to bypass a major rock slide that sent 6 foot by 6 foot rocks down the mountain. The birds were out in force and the winding trail took us to two glacial lagoons. In addition to cautions about quicksand, this sign warned that swimming in these lagoons would result in hypothermia, as the water is only 2 degrees Celsius - 35 degrees Fahrenheit. The smaller lagoon was a lovely blue/green, which I suppose could entice visitors to attempt a swim. There were few white icebergs visible in the larger lagoon, but it was still a stunning sight to see black icebergs lazily floating like ships.
We drove back to the farmhouse, grabbed our sleeping bags and claimed two unused bunks in the shared facility. The other beds were occupied by two kids from France and one from South Korea.
After beating Katie at 3 rounds of Boggle, it was time to call it a night. I am the last to fall asleep, as I type this to the sounds of multinational snoring.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
"My raven shit on me..."
We awoke to a beautifully sunny day at the Vatnsholt farm. From our room we could see islands and volcanoes very clearly. We could also see what would become a pattern on day 3 - small villages and their churches.
Breakfast was delicious, though there were no croissants for Katie, thus ending her amazing 3-day, 9-croissant streak. We hung out with the staff and owners of the farm as we fed on various meats, cheeses, bread, jam and waffles.
Turns out it was the calf's breakfast time as well. The owner offered to let Katie feed the calf - I thought she was going to jump out of her skin with excitement! The owner prepared a large plastic jug of warmed formula with a nipple on the end. Katie held on for dear life as the calf punched at the jug with its mouth - just as he would to stimulate milk in his mother's teats. When the jug was finished, he wasn't. He chased Katie around, punching her legs and ass when he could catch her. In an effort to relieve Katie, I took the jug and distracted him - so now I was the target of his hungry instincts! He punched at anything his head's level, which made me quite vulnerable. When I was watching him carefully, I could dodge most of his attempts. But when I was distracted by discussion or the menagerie of animals that surrounded us, I was pummeled. The ensuing interplay between me and the calf led to a collection of lude jokes that made us all laugh out loud.
So, the aforementioned menagerie included a raven, a silky blue and white chicken, an arctic fox cub, a nearly hairless dog and a minpin named "Cleopatra" who oversaw the entire bunch as its self-appointed queen... Not to mention the various dogs that we'd met the day before. The most silly part was that there was a sense of respect at each point of the food chain, though Cleo was inordinately interested in the silky chicken - perhaps she had a yen for scrambled eggs. At one point the farm's owner announced, "My raven shit on me, so I will go change my pants." Who could argue with that??
By the time we left, we felt like we'd made many new friends. If you are ever in Iceland, consider staying at the Vatnsholt guesthouse. Perhaps Elvis the goat will dance for you, just as he did on Icelandic national TV - go ahead, look it up on YouTube...
We were on the road again (a la Willie Nelson). Our first stop of the day was Seljalandsfoss waterfall. This is where I noticed that "foss" means "waterfall". We hiked up the side and down the slippery and muddy rocks that led just behind the falls. It was misty and cool, and not for a safety nut. I found it difficult to keep my balance with my camera bag, while my glasses misted over. But the view and thunderous sound were worth it!
From the front, we could see two other falls along the deep-green, grass and moss covered mountain. A drive off the ring road toward Porsmork (that name makes me giggle) provided views of caves and rock arches, as well as a feasting ferret.
Next stop? Skogafoss. If you guessed that this is another set of falls, you are correct! This was a much more intense waterfall in terms of size and volume. The mosses around the falls were stunning yellows, greens and reds. There was a staircase that went to the top, but neither Katie nor I were ready for THAT much walking.
As we rejoined the ring road, we could soon see the ocean to our right and the Eyjafjallajokull glacier to our left. This is the glacier covering one of the many active volcanoes. Specifically, we we driving next to Hekla and Eyjafjallajokull, which was responsible for last year's month long eruption that interrupted European air travel.
This is where this tourist was reminded of the "fire and ice" history of Iceland. A volcano eruption in this region will melt the glacier on top of it, resulting in flash floods. It will spew poisonous gasses, killing nearby sheep. In a coastal area like this, there is also a history of volcanic-earthquake tidal waves that can wipe out an entire village. We are very aware that we are at Mother Nature's mercy here. But, we are equally enchanted by her beauty. I am convinced that this land was the inspiration for Lord of the Rings - all at once lush and barren; soothing and punishing.
We continued along the coast to the rock arch at Dyrholaey. The road quickly became dirt and gravel as we wound out toward the sea and up to the rocky promontory that juts out of the black sand beach on one side of a small bay. Several hundred feet in the air atop the arch, we were afforded views for miles in each direction. This spot is closed each year for the nesting season of puffins.
Reynisfjara was on the other side of the bay. Instead of climbing upward, this time we drove straight out to the beach. This side of the bay gave us a grass-covered mountain, built atop pipe organ-like basalt columns and toothy caves that shimmered with golden flecks. This is a great puffin sighting area - I saw one returning to its nest.
Very hungry from walking, driving and sightseeing, we drove a short distance to Vik (god bless 3-letter town names). At one time last century, Vik was wiped out by a tidal wave. It was rebuilt as a lovely beachside area with views of a hilltop village and its church. The little white church reminded me of a New England schoolhouse, with a red roof. It was situated atop a rolling green hill with purple flowers. We had a great dinner at a small restaurant next to the visitors center and then drove to our accommodations at Steig guesthouse.
Situated at the foot of a mountain, with a view of the ocean, Steig is a quiet spot accessible by dirt road. They have sheep and dogs. Once I heard the lulling sounds of the babbling brook next to our room, I was out cold.
Breakfast was delicious, though there were no croissants for Katie, thus ending her amazing 3-day, 9-croissant streak. We hung out with the staff and owners of the farm as we fed on various meats, cheeses, bread, jam and waffles.
Turns out it was the calf's breakfast time as well. The owner offered to let Katie feed the calf - I thought she was going to jump out of her skin with excitement! The owner prepared a large plastic jug of warmed formula with a nipple on the end. Katie held on for dear life as the calf punched at the jug with its mouth - just as he would to stimulate milk in his mother's teats. When the jug was finished, he wasn't. He chased Katie around, punching her legs and ass when he could catch her. In an effort to relieve Katie, I took the jug and distracted him - so now I was the target of his hungry instincts! He punched at anything his head's level, which made me quite vulnerable. When I was watching him carefully, I could dodge most of his attempts. But when I was distracted by discussion or the menagerie of animals that surrounded us, I was pummeled. The ensuing interplay between me and the calf led to a collection of lude jokes that made us all laugh out loud.
So, the aforementioned menagerie included a raven, a silky blue and white chicken, an arctic fox cub, a nearly hairless dog and a minpin named "Cleopatra" who oversaw the entire bunch as its self-appointed queen... Not to mention the various dogs that we'd met the day before. The most silly part was that there was a sense of respect at each point of the food chain, though Cleo was inordinately interested in the silky chicken - perhaps she had a yen for scrambled eggs. At one point the farm's owner announced, "My raven shit on me, so I will go change my pants." Who could argue with that??
By the time we left, we felt like we'd made many new friends. If you are ever in Iceland, consider staying at the Vatnsholt guesthouse. Perhaps Elvis the goat will dance for you, just as he did on Icelandic national TV - go ahead, look it up on YouTube...
We were on the road again (a la Willie Nelson). Our first stop of the day was Seljalandsfoss waterfall. This is where I noticed that "foss" means "waterfall". We hiked up the side and down the slippery and muddy rocks that led just behind the falls. It was misty and cool, and not for a safety nut. I found it difficult to keep my balance with my camera bag, while my glasses misted over. But the view and thunderous sound were worth it!
From the front, we could see two other falls along the deep-green, grass and moss covered mountain. A drive off the ring road toward Porsmork (that name makes me giggle) provided views of caves and rock arches, as well as a feasting ferret.
Next stop? Skogafoss. If you guessed that this is another set of falls, you are correct! This was a much more intense waterfall in terms of size and volume. The mosses around the falls were stunning yellows, greens and reds. There was a staircase that went to the top, but neither Katie nor I were ready for THAT much walking.
As we rejoined the ring road, we could soon see the ocean to our right and the Eyjafjallajokull glacier to our left. This is the glacier covering one of the many active volcanoes. Specifically, we we driving next to Hekla and Eyjafjallajokull, which was responsible for last year's month long eruption that interrupted European air travel.
This is where this tourist was reminded of the "fire and ice" history of Iceland. A volcano eruption in this region will melt the glacier on top of it, resulting in flash floods. It will spew poisonous gasses, killing nearby sheep. In a coastal area like this, there is also a history of volcanic-earthquake tidal waves that can wipe out an entire village. We are very aware that we are at Mother Nature's mercy here. But, we are equally enchanted by her beauty. I am convinced that this land was the inspiration for Lord of the Rings - all at once lush and barren; soothing and punishing.
We continued along the coast to the rock arch at Dyrholaey. The road quickly became dirt and gravel as we wound out toward the sea and up to the rocky promontory that juts out of the black sand beach on one side of a small bay. Several hundred feet in the air atop the arch, we were afforded views for miles in each direction. This spot is closed each year for the nesting season of puffins.
Reynisfjara was on the other side of the bay. Instead of climbing upward, this time we drove straight out to the beach. This side of the bay gave us a grass-covered mountain, built atop pipe organ-like basalt columns and toothy caves that shimmered with golden flecks. This is a great puffin sighting area - I saw one returning to its nest.
Very hungry from walking, driving and sightseeing, we drove a short distance to Vik (god bless 3-letter town names). At one time last century, Vik was wiped out by a tidal wave. It was rebuilt as a lovely beachside area with views of a hilltop village and its church. The little white church reminded me of a New England schoolhouse, with a red roof. It was situated atop a rolling green hill with purple flowers. We had a great dinner at a small restaurant next to the visitors center and then drove to our accommodations at Steig guesthouse.
Situated at the foot of a mountain, with a view of the ocean, Steig is a quiet spot accessible by dirt road. They have sheep and dogs. Once I heard the lulling sounds of the babbling brook next to our room, I was out cold.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Croissants come to those who wait
When we went down to the lobby this morning for breakfast at 9am - the normally vacant breakfast area was full of Swedes! Katie ran to the croissant basket only to find a few pieces of white bread and one piece of rye. She was visibly shaken. I then looked to see a Swedish septuagenarian wrestling with the coffee machine... I became shaken as well. Turned out the lack of coffee was due to user error and croissants were in the oven - thank god!
We got on the road and headed northeast toward Geysir. We stopped along the way at Laxnes Horse Farm. Unwilling to take a 9 hour trek, I approached the farm's owner, introduced myself and asked if we could pay for some time patting the horses. He threw his head back and laughed, "Oh, no - just go in there. They are very docile and won't bite or kick. They might appreciate a good scratch!"
We took him up on it and found the Icelandic horses to be as warm and mild-tempered as the guidebooks say. They followed us around like puppy dogs.
On the way to Geysir we started running low on gas and found an N1 station. I managed to figure out how to use the self-filling pump without the benefit of an advanced degree - it involved math, language translation and a little mechanical maneuvering. I definitely filled the tank. I may also have transferred 6380 kronur into a Swiss bank account - the latter remains to be seen...
Then on to Geysir - You can imagine what this town is famous for. The hot springs were visible from the road. We parked in the visitors' lot and walked 100 meters off the road, following the overflow from the springs. Most of the bubbling caldrons had a name next to them and all warned of 100 Celsius temps. The largest one had the largest audience. We all stared at it as it began to breathe. The rising and falling of the meniscus was reminiscent of the rising and falling belly of a sleeping giant. After a few minutes, the water expanded upward in a bubbling tower about 30-50 feet in the air! We all shouted in excitement. Then it burst twice more before Katie and I left to grab lunch at the roadside cafeteria.
It came as no surprise to me that Katie opted for a ham and cheese croissant for lunch, followed by a chocolate croissant for dessert - her third and fourth croissants of the day. I think she has confused Iceland with France.
So, on the road again to Gulfoss. This spot is home to a raging waterfall - but you'd never know it from the road. It looks like the steam behind the visitors' center might be from another hot spring. Instead, as you hike along the trail, you can hear a distant rumble, which becomes a thunderous roar. The steam is actually mist from the frothing torrent. It is two layers of waterfalls. The first appears to be a 30-50 foot drop. The next looks to plummet about 100-200 feet into a deep river canyon. The side of the canyon has green moss on the ledges of deep brown and gray volcanic rock.
Next, we drove toward Selfoss. The ride was full of horses, goats, sheep and swans. Our inn is a bit off the main road and for the second time today, we left the smooth ride of pavement for the rocky terrain of gravel.
As we wound toward the Vatnsholt farm and guesthouse, we saw the many animals who would be our co-hosts. Our human hosts warmly greeted us, pointed out the volcanoes and islands on the horizon and introduced us to their newest addition - a calf whose mother abandoned him due to a birth defect. He now thinks he is a dog because the dogs have been raising him. I agreed to take our our bags to our stunningly renovated accommodations while an exhuberant Katie chased the calf around the field (poor calf).
Our hosts asked us for our preferred dinner time. We gave ourselves 90 minutes to develop an appetite. To prepare, I butchered Katie at ping pong and foosball. Alright, perhaps "butchered" is too strong a word. Perhaps "had my ass handed to me" is slightly more accurate... I mean she IS an athlete! Hey - who's writing this damn story, anyway???
Dinner was made just for us. We had homemade vegetable soup with homemade bread. Then lamb with vegetables for a main course and chocolate fondant for dessert. I embarrassed myself by inhaling it all. Katie took the more polite and leisurely approach. Until I noted that, though it is light out all night, the animals may have a bedtime. She bolted out of the dining room.
I am enjoying a quiet moment in this surprisingly sleek, modern home on the edge of a rustic farm. It is just after 9pm which is just about the time of the day that the summer sun appears to be its brightest and I begin to fade.
We got on the road and headed northeast toward Geysir. We stopped along the way at Laxnes Horse Farm. Unwilling to take a 9 hour trek, I approached the farm's owner, introduced myself and asked if we could pay for some time patting the horses. He threw his head back and laughed, "Oh, no - just go in there. They are very docile and won't bite or kick. They might appreciate a good scratch!"
We took him up on it and found the Icelandic horses to be as warm and mild-tempered as the guidebooks say. They followed us around like puppy dogs.
On the way to Geysir we started running low on gas and found an N1 station. I managed to figure out how to use the self-filling pump without the benefit of an advanced degree - it involved math, language translation and a little mechanical maneuvering. I definitely filled the tank. I may also have transferred 6380 kronur into a Swiss bank account - the latter remains to be seen...
Then on to Geysir - You can imagine what this town is famous for. The hot springs were visible from the road. We parked in the visitors' lot and walked 100 meters off the road, following the overflow from the springs. Most of the bubbling caldrons had a name next to them and all warned of 100 Celsius temps. The largest one had the largest audience. We all stared at it as it began to breathe. The rising and falling of the meniscus was reminiscent of the rising and falling belly of a sleeping giant. After a few minutes, the water expanded upward in a bubbling tower about 30-50 feet in the air! We all shouted in excitement. Then it burst twice more before Katie and I left to grab lunch at the roadside cafeteria.
It came as no surprise to me that Katie opted for a ham and cheese croissant for lunch, followed by a chocolate croissant for dessert - her third and fourth croissants of the day. I think she has confused Iceland with France.
So, on the road again to Gulfoss. This spot is home to a raging waterfall - but you'd never know it from the road. It looks like the steam behind the visitors' center might be from another hot spring. Instead, as you hike along the trail, you can hear a distant rumble, which becomes a thunderous roar. The steam is actually mist from the frothing torrent. It is two layers of waterfalls. The first appears to be a 30-50 foot drop. The next looks to plummet about 100-200 feet into a deep river canyon. The side of the canyon has green moss on the ledges of deep brown and gray volcanic rock.
Next, we drove toward Selfoss. The ride was full of horses, goats, sheep and swans. Our inn is a bit off the main road and for the second time today, we left the smooth ride of pavement for the rocky terrain of gravel.
As we wound toward the Vatnsholt farm and guesthouse, we saw the many animals who would be our co-hosts. Our human hosts warmly greeted us, pointed out the volcanoes and islands on the horizon and introduced us to their newest addition - a calf whose mother abandoned him due to a birth defect. He now thinks he is a dog because the dogs have been raising him. I agreed to take our our bags to our stunningly renovated accommodations while an exhuberant Katie chased the calf around the field (poor calf).
Our hosts asked us for our preferred dinner time. We gave ourselves 90 minutes to develop an appetite. To prepare, I butchered Katie at ping pong and foosball. Alright, perhaps "butchered" is too strong a word. Perhaps "had my ass handed to me" is slightly more accurate... I mean she IS an athlete! Hey - who's writing this damn story, anyway???
Dinner was made just for us. We had homemade vegetable soup with homemade bread. Then lamb with vegetables for a main course and chocolate fondant for dessert. I embarrassed myself by inhaling it all. Katie took the more polite and leisurely approach. Until I noted that, though it is light out all night, the animals may have a bedtime. She bolted out of the dining room.
I am enjoying a quiet moment in this surprisingly sleek, modern home on the edge of a rustic farm. It is just after 9pm which is just about the time of the day that the summer sun appears to be its brightest and I begin to fade.
Fly me to the lagoon
Day 2 - Iceland
Yesterday, we decided to drive to the Blue Lagoon. We got up, Katie had her customary 2 croissants and I had my customary 2 cups of coffee, and we were off.
We followed a general directional sense and a simple map in the southwest direction. There are so few roads that it is difficult to make a mistake - granted, the town names are routinely 15-20 letters long. We kept the ocean on our right and the volcanic moonscape on our left.
Suddenly, distant steam plumes played against steep mountainsides. Upon closing in, we realized the plumes were from the lagoon. We took a narrow road off the 2 lane highway and snaked through basalt and moss toward the facility. In the last 1/4 mile, we got out fist sight of the milky white and blue water next to the road.
The facility is top notch. Wrist bands have microchips that act as credit card, access keys and locker combinations. We rented towels and robes and headed for the dressing rooms. You are required to take a nude shower before donning your bathing suit and entering the lagoon - this is where you can easily spot the Americans - waiting in line for the private shower stalls.
After showering, we walked down to the picturesque lagoon. It is a giant azure steam bath, surrounded by black volcanic rock. We waded into the soothing water and relaxation began to penetrate every muscle. I wandered to the bar in the lagoon and ordered a cocktail - completing my relaxation.
We found one of the silica mask dispensers and lathered the white butter onto our faces, shoulders and arms. It was a cooling sensation. Rinsing it off revealed the softest skin I've had since I was an infant.
After spending 20 minutes in the lagoon, I found it tough to carry my weight on my legs. I found a deck chair, shielded myself from the sun with my robe, and fell asleep. The rest I got was amazing!
I felt more deeply relaxed than I have felt in years. I thought the lagoon would be a fun touristy thing to do - I didn't realize it could be considered so therapeutic.
We wanted to have dinner close to the water. So, we drove back to Reykjavik and went to a hotel that I originally thought was ours. When I'd left it 2 days ago, I saw that it had a restaurant called Panorama on the top floor. When we arrived via elevator, the view was breathtaking. The menu prices were a bit steep and we didn't have reservations. So, we negotiated the best table by offering to be out in 30 minutes. We ordered a cream of mushroom soup, a lobster soup and mojito. Reykjavikurs love their mint cocktails. All 3 items were fabulous - how fabulous? It was SO good that not even Michael Bolton singing "Fly me to the Moon" on repeat could ruin it!
Then we went down to the water to visit the Viking ship sculpture and watch the Atlantic terns bomb the water for THEIR dinner. A perfect day.
Yesterday, we decided to drive to the Blue Lagoon. We got up, Katie had her customary 2 croissants and I had my customary 2 cups of coffee, and we were off.
We followed a general directional sense and a simple map in the southwest direction. There are so few roads that it is difficult to make a mistake - granted, the town names are routinely 15-20 letters long. We kept the ocean on our right and the volcanic moonscape on our left.
Suddenly, distant steam plumes played against steep mountainsides. Upon closing in, we realized the plumes were from the lagoon. We took a narrow road off the 2 lane highway and snaked through basalt and moss toward the facility. In the last 1/4 mile, we got out fist sight of the milky white and blue water next to the road.
The facility is top notch. Wrist bands have microchips that act as credit card, access keys and locker combinations. We rented towels and robes and headed for the dressing rooms. You are required to take a nude shower before donning your bathing suit and entering the lagoon - this is where you can easily spot the Americans - waiting in line for the private shower stalls.
After showering, we walked down to the picturesque lagoon. It is a giant azure steam bath, surrounded by black volcanic rock. We waded into the soothing water and relaxation began to penetrate every muscle. I wandered to the bar in the lagoon and ordered a cocktail - completing my relaxation.
We found one of the silica mask dispensers and lathered the white butter onto our faces, shoulders and arms. It was a cooling sensation. Rinsing it off revealed the softest skin I've had since I was an infant.
After spending 20 minutes in the lagoon, I found it tough to carry my weight on my legs. I found a deck chair, shielded myself from the sun with my robe, and fell asleep. The rest I got was amazing!
I felt more deeply relaxed than I have felt in years. I thought the lagoon would be a fun touristy thing to do - I didn't realize it could be considered so therapeutic.
We wanted to have dinner close to the water. So, we drove back to Reykjavik and went to a hotel that I originally thought was ours. When I'd left it 2 days ago, I saw that it had a restaurant called Panorama on the top floor. When we arrived via elevator, the view was breathtaking. The menu prices were a bit steep and we didn't have reservations. So, we negotiated the best table by offering to be out in 30 minutes. We ordered a cream of mushroom soup, a lobster soup and mojito. Reykjavikurs love their mint cocktails. All 3 items were fabulous - how fabulous? It was SO good that not even Michael Bolton singing "Fly me to the Moon" on repeat could ruin it!
Then we went down to the water to visit the Viking ship sculpture and watch the Atlantic terns bomb the water for THEIR dinner. A perfect day.
Saturday, June 11, 2011
A hitchhiker's guide to Iceland
We arrived after midnight in Reykjavik with dusk settling in... Or so we thought. What I assumed would be darkness for two hours is more like dusk - that IS Icelandic darkness in spring. So, I guess the 22 hours of purported daylight are more like 24 hours.
The sleekly designed Reykjavik airport was a welcome sight to weary travelers - some connecting to other parts of Europe. We were one of the few for whom this is the final destination.
We found the desk for our rental car company and waited for the customer ahead of us to decide if she wanted ash insurance. Because of the recent volcanic eruption in the south, some cars are returning with paint and glass damage from the pumice dust.
A young man approached us, carrying two bags. "Are you headed into Reykjavik? Can I give you gas money for a ride? The bus is $35."
Katie and I looked at each other and said, "Sure." It was 2:00 am, still sunny, we were about to decide if we wanted ash insurance... might as well pick up a bright-eyed hitchhiker.
Kevin is from Long Island and is on a barely planned trip. He made his flight reservations in a daze after being enthralled by his last visit here in February. He ONLY made flight reservations.
During the 25 minute ride into town, Kevin gave us his version of a traveler's guide to Iceland... Deftly pronouncing 20-letter town names he had visited. His plans this time include hitchhiking and eating a cube of spoiled shark, an Icelandic delicacy. Whether or not I join him in this endeavor remains to be seen...
We drove him approximately to his destination - he couldn't find the scrap of paper that included his friend's address and phone number - but had a general idea of the building's location. We exchanged emails and Katie and I left.
Reykjavik was hopping with bar-crawlers. Our night desk clerk said the bars are open til 5:00 or 6:00. We slept.
Refreshed, we are enjoying a lovely breakfast and will decide the day's plan.
The sleekly designed Reykjavik airport was a welcome sight to weary travelers - some connecting to other parts of Europe. We were one of the few for whom this is the final destination.
We found the desk for our rental car company and waited for the customer ahead of us to decide if she wanted ash insurance. Because of the recent volcanic eruption in the south, some cars are returning with paint and glass damage from the pumice dust.
A young man approached us, carrying two bags. "Are you headed into Reykjavik? Can I give you gas money for a ride? The bus is $35."
Katie and I looked at each other and said, "Sure." It was 2:00 am, still sunny, we were about to decide if we wanted ash insurance... might as well pick up a bright-eyed hitchhiker.
Kevin is from Long Island and is on a barely planned trip. He made his flight reservations in a daze after being enthralled by his last visit here in February. He ONLY made flight reservations.
During the 25 minute ride into town, Kevin gave us his version of a traveler's guide to Iceland... Deftly pronouncing 20-letter town names he had visited. His plans this time include hitchhiking and eating a cube of spoiled shark, an Icelandic delicacy. Whether or not I join him in this endeavor remains to be seen...
We drove him approximately to his destination - he couldn't find the scrap of paper that included his friend's address and phone number - but had a general idea of the building's location. We exchanged emails and Katie and I left.
Reykjavik was hopping with bar-crawlers. Our night desk clerk said the bars are open til 5:00 or 6:00. We slept.
Refreshed, we are enjoying a lovely breakfast and will decide the day's plan.
Three days in one
After we ate a hearty breakfast of fruit, croissants, fish, pickles, beets and coffee, we wandered in a light mid-morning rain. We visited the brand new music performance center on the bay, with its sleek, honeycomb window design. We walked past the building in which the cold war was ended with a peace accord. Then we drove up to the Pern building on the hill for a spectacular view of Reykjavik. Afterward we napped (our second nap in 12 hours).
When we awoke, we drove for lunch to Cafe Loki in the shadow of the big church (I won't attempt the name). The menu included fish in many forms, dried, in a paste and "strong tasted shark". This shark beckons me. But, I opted for smoked trout.
So, the Icelandic tradition is to catch and kill a Greenland shark, bury it in the ground for months, occasionally douse it in urine and then, when it is perfectly putrid, eat it. The smell is horrendous, the taste is okay, and the aftertaste is revolting - so, you chase it with a somewhat gross liquor... Of course.
I can't wait.
We visited the church and took the elevator to a breathtaking view at the top of the spire. Then we sat in a pew for a musical performance on the massive pipe organ, with its 5000+ pipes. We then walked the streets, perusing shops and talking with locals.
After sufficient sightseeing, we went back to the hotel for another nap (our third). We awoke at 9:30pm to the brightest sunlight of the day. It was totally disorienting - after all, for us it felt like our third day and it was fewer than 24 hours after our arrival!
Thoroughly dazed and caught in a time warp, we opted for what anyone would; one of Iceland's favorite national foods: hotdogs. We went down to the bay to Bæjarins beztu for two with everything. Delicious!!! Of course, we decided to follow those with dinner at Cafe Paris. The staff was wonderful, as was the food! I enjoyed a Gull beer, native to Iceland. A very drunk man came over to be friendly, the staff escorted him politely elsewhere. When we left, they smiled warmly.
The streets at 11pm were filling up with partiers and musicians. We wandered down toward the rosey dusk on the shore and admired the boats in the shipyard. The maritime vista was stunning in the night sun with its long shadows.
Now we are back at the hotel, only 24 hours after landing and full of admiration for this vibrant city.
When we awoke, we drove for lunch to Cafe Loki in the shadow of the big church (I won't attempt the name). The menu included fish in many forms, dried, in a paste and "strong tasted shark". This shark beckons me. But, I opted for smoked trout.
So, the Icelandic tradition is to catch and kill a Greenland shark, bury it in the ground for months, occasionally douse it in urine and then, when it is perfectly putrid, eat it. The smell is horrendous, the taste is okay, and the aftertaste is revolting - so, you chase it with a somewhat gross liquor... Of course.
I can't wait.
We visited the church and took the elevator to a breathtaking view at the top of the spire. Then we sat in a pew for a musical performance on the massive pipe organ, with its 5000+ pipes. We then walked the streets, perusing shops and talking with locals.
After sufficient sightseeing, we went back to the hotel for another nap (our third). We awoke at 9:30pm to the brightest sunlight of the day. It was totally disorienting - after all, for us it felt like our third day and it was fewer than 24 hours after our arrival!
Thoroughly dazed and caught in a time warp, we opted for what anyone would; one of Iceland's favorite national foods: hotdogs. We went down to the bay to Bæjarins beztu for two with everything. Delicious!!! Of course, we decided to follow those with dinner at Cafe Paris. The staff was wonderful, as was the food! I enjoyed a Gull beer, native to Iceland. A very drunk man came over to be friendly, the staff escorted him politely elsewhere. When we left, they smiled warmly.
The streets at 11pm were filling up with partiers and musicians. We wandered down toward the rosey dusk on the shore and admired the boats in the shipyard. The maritime vista was stunning in the night sun with its long shadows.
Now we are back at the hotel, only 24 hours after landing and full of admiration for this vibrant city.
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