Iceland #14 - Flight There & Day 1

And so I returned to Iceland for my fourteenth trip in February....

I sometimes wonder if I'll tire of the place, and occasionally I have moments of "perhaps I should explore somewhere else?" - when I hear the excruciating whine of a drone above me, see groups of Chinese drive off in a blizzard, people walking across pristine sand in front of my camera, etc... but those thoughts soon pass, I move away from the crowds, look around me and know that I'll be back again and again.

I found myself flying to Iceland a few weeks earlier than planned after a rather annoying cock-up with the screening process for a new job. I had made an inadvertent mistake in submitting some bits and pieces online and the result was that my start-date for the new job was pushed back until 3 days before I was due to fly out to Iceland for 12 days - not ideal. I'd booked the Iceland trip back in May 2017; I never usually book until 1-3 months before, but I wanted to make sure I got the best value flights and the accommodation I wanted (and early March seems to be particularly popular with photography tours block-booking the places I might want to stay). When the new start-date presented itself to me it crossed my mind that perhaps I might be able to go to Iceland earlier and just start the new job once the trip was out of the way. This meant that my counting down the days until my trip went down from 31 to 6 days. It also meant losing a couple of hours of daylight each day, a little bit of money for BA flights booked on Avios, extra car-hire cost (minimal, thankfully), the possibility of losing a pre-paid hotel booking at a posh hotel, and the possibility of harsher weather. I managed to re-book everything, and only ended up being about £120 out of pocket (plus it cost me a few extra Avios spent to fly back in Club Europe, which was the only flight available on the day I wanted to travel on BA - all the other airlines had bumped up their prices last-minute). The posh hotel let me change my booking, which made me very happy.

The other last-minute panic was clothing. Usually I borrow a very warm Rab down jacket from my dad, which keeps me warm on the coldest of Icelandic nights, standing outside waiting for those pesky aurora to appear, but I didn't have time to go back to pick it up from my parents. I wanted to get a new jacket of my own anyway, so used this as an excuse to do so, did a bit of research and decided on a 66 North (Icelandic) one, to be purchased on my first morning there. I also invested in a couple of bits of Arcteryx clothing the day before I left.

And so I headed off to Iceland via City Airport, where BA now flies from, at a leisurely 1pm on a Sunday afternoon at the beginning of Feb. As I'd rebooked only a few days earlier, and had been busy finishing at my old job, having leaving lunches and drinks, I hadn't really spent the usual time obsessing about the upcoming weather-forecast, but I was a little nervous about a storm on my first couple of days there, so didn't book the second night's accommodation - deciding that I'd wait and see how far I could safely get, heading east.

We took off a little late - the toilet on the tiny plane wasn't flushing initially, but they managed to fix it. We flew out of grey London but soon I got my first glimpse of snowy hills over the Lake District, before noticing the bridges near Edinburgh in the distance. We soon reached the snowy highlands of Scotland. I was able to spot the landmarks on google maps when I got home - these are the River Forth at Alloa and Loch Monar!

Unfortunately even though I was right at the back, way behind the engine, there was still a fair amount of jet trail to distort any photos with the camera remotely pointed downwards, so shots towards the horizon worked the best. The windows were a bit scratched too, but I managed to get some shots I liked, even if they're not technically brilliant. The plane was pretty empty, so I was able to move from one side to the other, taking plenty of shots of the surreal aerial landscape. I managed to identify a few more places that I passed over (again, via google maps) - Portree Harbour and the Sound of Raasay (first photo), and the tiny little pointy stack in the portrait picture below is the one at the southern end of Talisker beach (on the Minginish Peninsula), where I spent an hour back in 2012! The light out of the west side of the plane was stunning in the afternoon light - the sea glowed a brilliant gold.

Eventually we left Scotland behind us and headed towards Iceland - the layers of clouds, shadows, weird light and the golden sea below me just mesmerising!

Some of the clouds looked like rolls of cotton wool.

I kept checking out of the right hand side windows to see if Iceland was coming into view, but the cloud was dense. On the other side, though, the view was just spectacular the whole way - with an enormous halo and sun-dogs around the sun at one point (shame about the filthy windows!), and orange glowing clouds.

We started to descend and soon were in the cloud, which went on and on; we only came out of it a minute or so before touching down at Keflavík where it was absolutely pissing down with rain.

The usual formalities at the airport ensued - picking up some Borg beer at the duty free shop (they had a special selection of the Sutur imperial stouts which would do me for the week), finding the backpack at the outsized luggage place (it was actually on the conveyor belt this time), and then heading to the car rental place. After my last-minute change through Auto-Europe (I have to give them a shout out - what a freaking fantastic company they are!) my rental was with Budget, whose counter was at the airport (it was the first time in years that Pro Car hadn't been the cheapest). I did all the paperwork and then headed out into the rain to locate my white Dacia Duster - the same model I'd had all those years ago (well, 6) on my first solo photography trip to the island. The rain was pelting down, so I packed the bags onto the back seat, got in, was unable to find the back window de-misting button, and set off towards Alftanes, unable to see anything behind me through the rear-view mirror.

This journey must be so disheartening to some people - along a tedious stretch of road, surrounded by stark volcanic black nothingness, in the rain, past factories and billboards, fast food joints and signs telling you that this is the home of elves, and then that this is the home of the Vikings, not really knowing what it's trying to tell you, before finally arriving in pretty downtown Reykjavík. To me it wasn't depressing at all, though, as it was the beginning of the my journey back to the south-east, to a couple of my dear favourite places in the world. And also I just wanted to get to Sigrún and Johannes's in time for a delicious welcoming supper!

I had the usual warm greeting (even though Johannes had come down with flu), with Sigrún having laid on a massive spread, including divine home-made tomato soup and finished off with a rather special peanut butter cake. It's always lovely to catch-up, and watch their children (and my favourite cat in the world, Jökull) grow. I checked the weather and it looked fairly mixed the following day, but not too windy - and certainly not windy enough for road closures - so I decided it was safe to book somewhere further west to stay. Sigrún's brother runs a guesthouse in Hrifunes, between Vík and Kirkjubæjarklaustur - the Glacier View - which he has just extended with ten lovely cabins, so she texted to see if he had any availability. He had one room left, so they booked me in there. I'd stayed at their neighbour's guesthouse a couple of years earlier (when a massive storm had come in overnight) and had always wanted to stay at her brother's place, but they'd only recently opened during winter, so finally I had my opportunity. We had a fairly early night and I checked the weather and aurora forecasts again (the former mixed, but generally okay, the latter fairly inactive). I googled how to de-mist the window on the Duster, and discovered that I'd just been completely blind - there was a little button to press (having said that, the lighting was terribly designed so I couldn't actually see it).

I got up fairly early and chatted to Johannes, who wasn't feeling any better and was staying off work. It had snowed overnight, so everything looked far prettier than the night before. I eventually set off (able to see out of the back of the car), my first stop being the 66 North shop, not far away in Garðabær - obviously I got a little bit lost but eventually found it (it is a lot easier these days with roaming not costing extra, so I can stop and look up on google maps at any time now, instead of waiting until I'm somewhere with wifi!). I'd decided which jacket I wanted to buy - a ridiculously expensive 3-in-1 combo of a thick very waterproof shell and a very warm down, which could be warn zipped together or separately. I tried on a few - boiling instantly, as I had thermals on - but eventually decided on the one I'd originally planned to buy. I got some light woollen gloves too, having left my other pair behind in London. Feeling a lot poorer I headed out, next stop shopping for some basics for the week. After that my next stop was obviously an important one - the obligatory stop to see my wonderful jeweller, Orr. I'd had a disaster a few months earlier - the front of one of my earrings had come off one morning and I spent the following morning walking along the Kings Road for half an hour looking intently at the pavement to see if the street cleaners might have missed it - no sign :( I parked at a metered spot outside a hotel around the corner, put enough money in the metre so I wasn't too rushed and headed to the shop. It was already 10.30am by the time I arrived - a little later than planned. I gave the remaining earring back to Orr and asked if it was possible to replace it - they'd see what they could do. I didn't go as mad as I have done sometimes, picking up a couple of pendants for gifts and one new necklace for me. Oh, and some new earrings. Okay, it was a little mad. It was an end-of-job treat for myself. Feeling all Orr-ed up I headed off, beginning my journey and adventure.

The weather was fairly miserable, with steely blue-grey skies. At least the snow overnight had made the landscape look a lot less bleak. I headed across the Hellisheiði pass, stopping at the viewpoint for a quick shot. It's a great spot to just stop and admire the landscape beyond - a few geothermal plumes visible in one direction, various mountains in another, and the flat plains towards the sea beyond. The sun was struggling to peak out, but not quite managing.

It was pretty nippy so I hopped back in the car and continued on down the massive winding hill. Next stop was Hvolsvöllur for a loo stop, my first gas-station burger of the trip, and a cheeky trip to the Vínbúðin opposite, to get a few other beers to provide me with an alternative to the stouts, should I so desire.

iPhoneSE shot of Hvolsvöllur burger - tasty!

iPhoneSE shot of graffiti in the toilets at the Hvolsvöllur petrol station

I continued on, not stopping until a pull-out not far from Seljalandsfoss, with the jumbled little peaks of Vestmannæjyar just visible on the horizon under the dark, ominous clouds. I could just see the braided rivers that ran between me and the sea and wished I was up in the air to look down on the striations.

Again, I didn't stay out long, although my new jacket was toasty, and continued on, not bothering to pull in to see Seljalandsfoss (with its ISK700 parking fee!). My first proper stop (with tripod, parked up) was at my favourite rocks. The water surrounding them was frozen and they looked fairly grim, but still striking. I do love them, I don't know why! (probably because the first time I ever saw them was in sunshine after three days of gloom and I drove on by without stopping and regret it to this day!). Near the rocks was a massive number of geese which from time-to-time would fly a little around and back - unfortunately no great goose murmurations for me!

I continued on, disappointed with the miserable conditions, not really in the photographing zone yet, feeling a little grumpy. I drove on for a while, pulling into the road opposite Skógafoss for a quick shot or two. It too looked pretty dreadful - the water an ugly dirty grey, the surrounding fields and hills only just covered with enough snow to hide the horrid yellowy winter grass, and the skies an overcast white-grey meh!

I continued on and hoped that the weather might improve a bit for me to visit one of the headlands or beaches around Vík, but no, it worsened! I drove through light snow with almost no visibility as I passed the turn-offs to Dyrholaey and Reynisfjara, and drove straight through the ever-expanding town of Vík. No point stopping if there's nothing to see, I decided, and a warm welcoming guesthouse and cabin awaited me a little further up the road.

I did make one little diversion, to an area on the sandur that had some interesting pointy low hills. I'd driven down that same road a couple of years earlier, again with menacing skies above me. This time I stopped on the other side of the road and took a few shots of the funny little peaks to the east. A sign showed me that this was the site of a Benedictine monastery from the 12th Century (or something - I didn't take a picture and cannot find anything online about this!). I noticed that I could also see my beloved Lómagnúpur mountain in the distance, not to mention the Vatnajökull ice-cap.

I continued on, and as I took the turn-off up to Hrifunes the weather started to improve slightly, with the sun managing to break the mass of nasty clouds briefly. I'd remembered from my previous trip there that the sides of the roads were dotted with small ponds and grasses and black rocky bits. It was quite pretty, in spite of being just a few ponds, grasses and rocky bits! For a moment there was a nice glow in the sky and I felt happy to be back in Iceland, in the middle of the nowhere, surrounded by big skies and a black road heading off in both directions.

I arrived at the guesthouse to a friendly welcome from Sigrún's brother Borgar (I'd texted him to tell him my approximate arrival time, as the roads weren't exactly clear, so he at least would know if I hadn't made it safely!) and his wife. He showed me to my cabin, which was absolutely lovely - one of a series of ten blackened-wooden cabins with beautiful simple decor inside and lovely bathroom and windows on both sides to enjoy the views. I decided to go for a little walk and ventured out down a slight hill - the guesthouse sits atop a river valley, and I could see the river braiding out towards the coast. One of these days I'll fork out for a sightseeing flight to capture those incredible braids.

It began to snow and get a bit blizzardy, so I headed back to my cabin to warm up. Again, I was glad for my excellent new coat, keeping me warm and dry.

iPhoneSE shot of the Glacier View Guesthouse new cabins

Borgar texted again to make sure I wasn't still out in the blizzard (I was enjoying the warmth of the cabin and was very safe!). Later on I went up to the house where dinner was served to guests around two communal tables. I chatted to a young Austrian couple, who were very much in love (!), an older French couple, and a Chinese couple - quite an eclectic bunch. We shared stories of Iceland and travel. The food was divine - endless courses and delicious - and I washed it down with a few local beers (can't remember the names - one was Freyja, I think). The snow continued, so no chance for any night photography, so I had a reasonably early night in my cosy cabin, hoping I might get my phojo (photography mojo) back the following day.

Click here for the blog from Day 2 - my birthday!