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.
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