Iceland - Part 2

Day Seven:

A big travel day. 320km from Seydisfjordur to Lake Myvatn via an inland route which took us close enough to see some of the country’s highest peaks and past Iceland’s highest working farm. The cloud had lifted from the mountain so we could see what we had missed the day before as we climbed back up out of the fjord. Dettifoss waterfall was the first planned destination. Reputed to be the highest volume falls in Europe, it is impressive as it thunders over the edge. An unexpected highlight was a grand view of the Jokulsarglufur canyon just downstream with it’s deep gorge and coloured lakes. Decided we had better also view the falls from the west, so we headed north to Asbyrgi and back down to Dettifoss, covering over 100km in the process and dropping in for a pleasant stroll through stunted birch forest in the Asbyrgi gorge. Worth the extra trip because the view of Detifoss from the west side is more impressive. 

Then it was a short hop to Lake Myvatn where we cooked delicious salmon and mash potato in the camp kitchen. There was a guy chatting in the kitchen who Sue said reminded her of one of our fellow Odyssey travellers from the African trip. Nah, couldn’t be! Not more than a few minutes later she saw a guy who looked like him as well and said “That guy looks like Caolan” to which I replied “It is Caolan” and chased after him. Imagine the chances of bumping into someone you met in Africa 3 years later in Iceland. A few beers later and we had renewed friendships like old times. Amazing!

This is what we missed going down into Seydisfjordur

Traversing the high country. Quite barren and cold and windy!!

Getting to grips with Dettifoss from the east side

Dettifoss

and a bit closer, but not too close to the edge for obvious reasons

One hundred kilometres later and it's Dettifoss from the west side

Downstream from Dettifoss is Hafragilfoss in a beautiful deep gorge

What a small world - catching up with Caolan, who we first met on our African Odyssey in 2011. Just before midnight at Lake Myvatn with a faint pink glow from the 'sunset'

Day Eight:

Lake Myvatn (pronounced Mee-va) to Reykir (on the Skagi peninsula but not on our map??)

Woke again to sunshine and deep blue skies. T-shirt weather, woohoo. Brekky with Caolan and his partner Anka before heading our separate ways. Look out! Who knows who we’ll run into next. Lake Myvatn is full of bird life and surrounded by geothermal activity and lava fields, some as young as 1984 (just a baby in geological time terms). Fascinating colours and bizarre landforms abound, made all the more strange with blasts of steam escaping into the air accompanied by a roar not unlike a jet engine.

Just before leaving Lake Myvatn we called into the lava tube region and Höfdi nature reserve, with one of Iceland’s only forests before moving on to Godafoss (waterfall of the gods and so called, as the story goes, because an early chieftain threw several icons of pagan gods into the falls and in the process declaring himself to be a Christian). 

Akureyri, second largest town in Iceland was just a fuel and provisions stop before heading  south to a quaint little church at Grundarkirkja before turning north again to Reykeri, a well-kept secret spot 20km up a dirt road which may or may not exist, depending on which map you are looking at but highly recommended by Caolan and Anka whoi had been there 2 nights previously. Any way, with an open paddock, natural hot springs, a small café and, the piece de resistance, a turf roofed dunny, how could one resist? On the way we stopped at a lighthouse near the tip of the Trollaskagi peninsula. It’s bright orange colour was beckoning and drew us down a steep road for a closer look. As we pulled up a farmer, on whose property the lighthouse stood, came out for a chat. Very friendly fellow. Mid fifties. Three kids. Born on the farm. Injured on the farm and will no doubt die there one day tending his flock of sheep 600 strong in the summer and 300 in the winter. When he heard we were from Australia he said “Ah, you’re upside down then!”

We found the little haven at Reykeri exactly as described and settled in for dinner, a hot tub and a night cap.

Brekky in the sun with Caolan and Anka before heading separate ways

Typical lava field at Krafla (Lake Myvatn)

New lava (1984) is almost black and much darker than the old

Pipes from 17 separate geothermal bores run to the power station

Godafoss: difficult to photograph with the sun shining!

Grundarkirkja: reputed to be one of the most beautiful churches in Iceland. Unble to see inside so will have to reserve judgement

 Saudanes Lighthouse on the Trollaskagi peninsula sits on this farmer's land

Reykir campsite

Organising stuff on the computer at Reykir, on the only available power point.

Day Nine:

Reykir to Reykhalo (in the Western Fjords).

After a peaceful night with nothing but sea birds (and a few French hikers and German bikers) it was off to see the Vatnsnes peninsula as it was reputed to be pretty. Firstly we arrived at Glumbær Farm, one of Iceland’s oldest turf-roofed farms dating back to circa 1100 AD. It was picture postcard stuff. After working up an appetite photographing the entire place from every angle we enjoyed some traditional hot chocolate and cream filled crepes. (Yes, my waist line is getting bigger).

Onto the Vatnsnes and there was a nice rock formation on the beach at Hvitserkur and the western side is home to the storyline behind the book Burial Rites. We had a to-die-for bowl of fish soup at a small restaurant in the heart of the area. By now we were pretty confident that we would have enough time to see some of the Western Fjords and pressed on for another big day of around 300km in total. 

Finally pulled up in Reykhola at the bottom of the Western Fjords, well poised to see some of the region. Don’t tell the locals, but Reykhola doesn’t have a lot going for it but there is a new sea salt factory - so now we have some pure Arctic Sea salt. There’s also a seaweed factory… but we didn’t need any. They could use a wind farm that’s for sure. 

A bit of entertainment in the form of the televised travelling roadshow that is “Iceland’s Strongest Man!” was there to greet us at the local pool/campoing complex. We got there just in time to see them packing up but, luckily, the TV crew (who we met at the salt factory) told us we were they heading for the same town as we were for the next instalment. A windy, windy night and wet. We found a small shelter on the side of a building for our drinks and dinner. The strong men were amused!

Glumbauer Farm

Checking the recipe for the crepes

Hvitserkur arch was a long way down

from the beach

For Burial Rites readers, this is the church and cemetery in which Agnes Magnusdottir is now buried, the remains having been relocated from where she was initially buried after execution. It's now a part of Tjorn farm on the Vatnsnes peninsula.

An Icelandic strong man

Where to cook out of the wind at Reykhola, at the camping ground beside the swimming pool and gymnasium

Buying pure Arctic Sea salt direct from the factory in Reykhola

making the stuff. Sea water is concentrated in large vats using geothermal heat. Green as it gets, environmentally speaking.

Typical Western Fjord scenery as viewed through the windscreen. Mountainous, windy roads. Very green and completely overcast.

The long and winding road...

Day Ten:

Reykhola to Talknafjordur 

Steep, winding climbs and descents (up to 16%), in and out we drove past lots of fjords. Beautiful! On to a shipwreck, a museum and Iceland’s famous Raudarsandur (red sand beach) - actually we would call it yellow, the sort of thing common to us but rare here in a land of predominantly black beaches.) There was a cute little church overlooking Raudarsandur which begged to be photographed. Finally, a couple of fjords later we pulled into the well protected little village in Talknafjordur. Lo and behold, the strong men were there carrying barrels of water half the length of the local heated pool and generally posing for the cameras in front of an adoring audience (pretty much all the townsfolk were there, well a couple of dozen anyway).

First stop, the Garda BA 64 - Iceland's oldest steel ship. Built by Norewegians, run aground by Icelanders.

The Raudisnadur (red sand) beach 

Quaint little Saurbaejarkirkja church at Raudisandur. Try saying that with a mouth full. It was designed with reference to the golden ratio popular in ancient Greece so they say.

More boats aground, this time at the Hnjoti museum en route to Talknafjordur

Day Eleven:

Talknafjordur to Flatey

Dynjandi Falls was the prime attraction we wanted to see before leaving the Western Fjords. At 100m high and comprising seven smaller sub-falls it was quite spectacular. We spent a couple of hours there, had lunch and made a brew just in time to share with a cold, wind-blown cyclist from Belgium. Down to Brjanstekur to take the 7:00PM car ferry south across Breidafjordur to Stykkisholmur on the Snæfellsnes Peninsula with a special treat being an overnight stopover on the little island of Flatey. Inhabited since the 11th century. It has been a one time busy trading centre (since 1589) but now has only two permanent farms and summer houses. The first ever library in Iceland is on the island and we found a church more beautiful than Grundarkirkja, at least inside. Beautiful frescoes cover the ceiling depicting the bearded one in Viking garb administering solace or whatever to farmers and fisherman. The timber houses their original appearances.

Just moseying back to back fjords, this one being the Arnafjordur

This was our objective - Dynjandi falls. Seven falls in all and 100m from top to bottom.

One of the lower falls, the name of which is irrelevant

The village on Flatey Island

No cars, just tractors.Old Massey Ferguson in fact

Lovely summer homes

The village from Lundaberg (literally puffin mountain) which, at 16 metres above sea level is not too hard to climb.

Low tide in the harbour

Another ship run aground: The Ghost Ship on Flatey

Crafty lads on their way to a fortune selling painted stones. We bought a couple naturally. The paint was still wet too.

Day Twelve:

From Flatey to Olafsvik

Took the luchtime ferry south across the remaining Breidafjordur to Stykkisholmur, on the north coast of the Snæfellsnes Peninsula. Picked up the car and headed west towards Grundafjordur where we found a cruise ship sitting at anchor under one of the most beautiful mountains in Iceland, Kirkjufell which we naturally photographed before moving further along the coast to Olafsvik to set up camp. Here we were relentlessly attacked by nervous Arctic Terns whilst attempting to photograph more horses. Probably the prettiest campsite so far, under a mountain side with pine forest and waterfalls, horses, birds and waves on the shore.

Flatey's church

Arctic Tern

A Flatey puffin. Much bigger than the Faeroe Island puffins but hard to get close to. Must come back with a telephoto!

Sue photographing me photgraphing dive bombing Arctic Terns

This one nearly got me.

Day Thirteen:

Olafsvik to Fossatun (not far from Reykjavik)

Straight to the bakery because there was one (at last). Then off to a golden sands beach followed by a 'sublime' black beach. No sand, just stones varying in size from pebbles to 154kg. How do we that, because the sign said so. Fisherman had to be able to lift certain sized stones before they were allowed to row the boat.

Wanted to walk along the coast from Hellnar to Arnastapi but weather was more conducive to coffee and driving. By the time we got to Arnastapi it had cleared and we enjoyed spectacular cliffs and bird life. No puffins though. Then on to the Raufdfelldsgja (a canyon) and another church, the black Budakirkja and finally to Fossatun where, because it was raining heavily, we again took the soft option of a beautiful room overlooking the Troll waterfalls, somebody else's cooking and music by Men at Work, genuine vinyl edition played on an old turntable.

Golden sandy beaches

154kg - yeah right!

Testing the Arctic waters

genuine Viking lifting stones

The coast line at Arnastapi

Raudfelldsgja canyon with cloud covering the top

Budakirkja

the inscription reads "This church was built in 1847 without the help of our spiritual fathers"

Ready for dinner at the Troll falls 

After the luxury of Troll Falls, with its washing machine and soft comfy bed, we headed for Reykjavik via Glymur, the highest falls in Iceland with a 198m cascade. On the way, we stopped for some more cute horsey pics.

Photo bombing??

Damn wind plays havoc with the hair-do

Psst, did you hear the one about...

The last laugh

At last, a non-blurry one of those pesky terns.

Getting to Glymur Falls was a tough hike, especially with a big camera pack on the back.

So we called it quits here and took this shot, reasoning that the view from higher up was not going to be any better.

Lots of lupins

We stand in front of the iconic Reykjavik cathedral and under Leifur Ericsson, first European to sail to America.

with Dora outside her favourite cafe

Hot dog stand. Bill Clinton had one here.

Next stop Norway.