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.

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.