Iceland #14 - Day 5 - a Bit of Hvalnes, a Bit of Stokksnes

For some reason I've never gone to Stokksnes for sunrise - I always decide to head a little further east from my cabin to Hvalnes. This is definitely one of my most adored spots in Iceland, partly because the scenery is quite incredible, but also because I'm always alone so can selfishly enjoy it all by myself (I've seen one other car there on many visits). I managed to get up early (it was still after 8am, so not early early) and set off into the magical blue hour. The skies were clear but there were no signs of any lingering morning aurora and it was absolutely freezing (about -10 deg C). I made the mistake of trying to clean the windscreen only to discover that the wipers were completely frozen and wouldn't budge. I managed to clean off the liquid with the squeegee but no chance to clean the glass properly. I set off and it was absolutely magical; it can be difficult sometimes to drive just 17km, when all you want to do is stop and capture everything you see. The lack of pull-outs on the road are probably all that stops me from doing that.

I stopped once, finding one pull-out not covered in too much snow, where I had the most wonderful view back along the icy blue road towards the range of mountains to the east, the crescent moon a little to the south.

I could've stayed in that spot all morning, but I was keen to get to the lighthouse area, so I continued on, stopping again only when I reached the parking area at the side of the road, just before Hvalnes. I ended up staying there for almost an hour, until the sun illuminated various peaks to the north and west. The view just consumed me; the tranquility was sublime.

The sunrise itself wasn't any great shakes, but it began illuminating the peaks to the north as it came in and out of low cloud on the horizon.

I played around with the polarising filter and was intrigued at the difference in the colour of the ice, mountains and sky - it's amazing what a little twist of a piece of glass can do! Here are three shots that show the contrast:

Next stop was Hvalnes. The sun was up and the big mountain looked its usual magnificent self. I took a couple of my silly self-portraits, but no chance of getting the coats off as it was bitterly cold; thankfully windless, so just about bearable! I was very pleased with my new purchase - kept me nice and toasty.

I walked across the marshy grassland, which was like glass in places, so I had to tread very carefully. Mostly there was enough snow to give me some grip, but large patches were large sheets of sheer ice. The waves were crashing with their usual force against the black rocks along the shore in the distance, so I headed down there. I spent two hours just photographing the waves, playing around with long exposures a bit (on tripod and handheld), trying to capture the enormous sprays as the waves hit the rocks. It is mesmerising and captivating, and I only left as my feet were feeling rather frozen (although my new woollen socks were working far better than the old thick non-wool ones I used to wear).

I eventually wandered back towards the car, stopping to photograph some flowers trapped in the ice.

I stopped again to take a couple more shots of the slate cliffs, the sun annoyingly behind me, so it was challenging to get photos without my shadow in. I got round this by putting myself in the shots again. Hundreds of seabirds flew high in the sky over the cliffs above me.

I got back to the car, relieved to be out of the cold; I'd been out by the rocks for over two hours. I drove back to the pull-out overlooking the hut and took a few more shots - there was some ice in the lagoon piling up creating interesting patterns. A set of footprints led down through the snow to the lakeside - they looked too big for a fox but too small for reindeer; I think they must have been from the former (how I'd love to see a wild fox - have only seen one on all of my trips there).

In the frozen ponds on the east side of the road - where last year I found some wonderful ice bubbles for macro shots - there were some strange round ice formations. They were between two and four inches in diameter and looked like broken tumbler glassware - round with jagged edges, filled with snow.

I was absolutely frozen and starving, so headed back to the cottage - it was already 1.30pm, so I'd been out for over five hours! On my way back I witnessed a little magical moment - in the parking area a huge truck had pulled over and the driver was standing at the edge of the rocks taking a picture of the stunning bay. He put his phone down and just stood admiring the view as I drove past. Even truck drivers are blown away but the wonderful views! A little further along the road I stopped at a pull-out when I noticed a couple of cormorants on the snowy surface in the distance. The two of them were the only birds I'd seen, other than the gulls above the cliffs and some geese near my favourite rocks at Steinar. I approached them slowly to get a couple of photos. It looked as if they were having a conversation: "nice weather today, isn't it my friend?"!

As I approached the cabin I stopped as I saw some horses looking beautiful against the backdrop of the Brunnhorn and Vestrahorn mountains in the distance.

It was nice to get back to the warm, cosy cottage and pour tea down me (I'd brought a large cup from home so no problem with small cups this year!). The batteries were nearly flat, so I had to stay a while to recharge those. I spent the next couple of hours going over the hundreds of photos I'd taken of the waves earlier in the day.

I set off again at about 3.30pm - this time the destination was Stokksnes on the far side of the tunnel. I drove a little way in the other direction first to take some pictures of the local horses in the afternoon sun; they are such beautiful creatures! As for the view... it just takes my breath away.

I reached Stokksnes at about 4pm and paid my entrance fee (there's even a barrier now, so no chance to get in without paying - although not sure if it's ever down). I love driving along that stretch of the road, with Vestrahorn to your left and the dunes coming into view. An area has been set aside for parking, and I was pleased to see that there weren't too many cars already there.

I walked down the usual path to reach the shore, passing the little pond. Unfortunately it was frozen and covered in snow and in the shade too - the sun was already pretty low in the sky.

There was a photo shoot going on down on the beach - the same set-up that I'd seen on Jökulsárlón beach, with a woman with long hair and a long flowing hippy dress being photographed and then wrapped in a thick coat between shots. There was quite an entourage, so the Game of Thrones theory seemed likely. I took a few shots from the top of the rocks at the edge of the beach before heading very carefully down the rocks - again, absolutely lethal with sheet ice.

The sun was already very low and western side of the mountain cast pointy shadows across the slopes. There were no clouds in the sky, so a spectacular sunset wasn't on the cards, and the waves were pretty tame and the tide quite far out, so spectacular wave trail shots weren't on the cards either. It was still glorious and great to be back - very different conditions from my previous trip, where I'd had storms and rainbows and misty peaks. I wandered further onto the beach to capture some reflection shots of the whole range, which is only possible when the sand is wet from a sneaker wave (they're not as dangerous here as Reynisfjara, as the beach is so flat; I feel fairly comfortable here if the end of a wave washes over my feet).

I tried a few shots with different filters, as usual, as the sun began to get lower and lower - the 6-stop filter gives a rather red cast, but it kind of works at this time of day, I think.

The light was fading quickly, until there was just a small amount of the easternmost peak illuminated (and the range of mountains in the distance towards Hvalnes). The camera crew had left the beach so it felt a bit more peaceful; there was only me and a couple of other photographers up in the dunes.

After the sun had gone the sky to the east glowed pink in the alpenglow.

I decided that I would stay at the beach to take a few night shots, hoping for some northern lights (although the forecast was for none). I didn't want to have to drive all the way back to the cottage and then back again. Instead I headed back across the dunes (which sadly by this time of day were slightly ruined by footprints), to the car, where I would wait out the twilight. A couple were playing with a drone - the annoying buzz audible now and then and the red object needing to be photoshopped out of the photo below!

I wrapped myself up, reclined the seat and tried to have a little nap to kill time. It didn't really work and I just felt cold, so I put the engine on for the heating and to recharge the battery. Sometimes it seems to get dark immediately but certainly not tonight; the twilight seemed to go on forever! Eventually I saw the first stars come out and so I headed back down to the beach where I was completely alone.

I did feel a little nervous, especially as I allowed waves to come as far as my feet, so I didn't stay near the water's edge for long. There were some great contrasts, even in the near-darkness, from the waves, the black sand and the snow a bit further up the beach. Light clouds had appeared from nowhere, which was annoying for star shots, but they glowed a pretty pink for a while. No sign of any aurora.

I found a composition I quite liked and decided to try some star trail shots. My intervalometer hadn't worked for me the previous night, and I'd mislaid the new Spark remote (acquired via a Kickstarter project), so I had to press the shutter every time the long exposure of 30 seconds was up. A photography group arrived and pottered about slightly behind me. Even with the noise of the gentle waves I could hear chitter-chatter and the peacefulness and tranquility was gone. From time to time a super-powerful torch would be pointed on the snow in front of me, which would result in a lighter shot - nothing I could do about that. I began to get pretty cold so I had an idea, partly to keep myself warm, and partly to kill time while the shutter was open: I danced around on the spot. I must've looked a bit silly, but it was very dark by now, and it definitely worked. Sometimes I just marched on the spot, sometimes I walked backwards, other times I did a little dance move! There were loads of planes flying overhead, and the odd shooting star. The ursa major constellation was dominant in the night sky, and the angle made it look like a giant question mark above Vestrahorn.

The group left after about 40 minutes and then I was alone again, still moving around on the spot, pressing the damn shutter every 30 seconds.

By 8.30pm I was done - it had been a long day of photographing fairly intensely, and in spite of my dancing I was getting cold (and hungry - the fish awaited!).  I walked back up to the car and made the 25km drive home, a little nervous about the iciness of the roads (the tunnel was a couple of km of relief from that). I made it safely, crunching across the frozen track leading to the cottage. Again it was such a pleasure to get into the warm cottage. I managed to fry the fish more successfully, and ate it accompanied by some sautéed potatoes and salad, and washed it down with a ridiculously strong imperial stout. I spent the evening reviewing photos and putting together a little timelapse of the stars' movements. I had taken 100 photos in the same spot, over a period of an hour (with a few seconds' gap between between shots while the photo was recorded and I pressed the shutter again). The thing that struck me the most was the amount of planes. The milky way was nicely visible too, moving across the top of the mountain peaks. Click on the video below but watch it full screen otherwise it's hard to see!

Eventually I dragged myself to bed, with the alarm set for 9am, as the weather forecast was for heavy cloud and snow showers for the morning. It had been another wonderful Icelandic day.

Click here for the blog from Day 4 - East to Hvalnes
Click here for the blog from Day 6 - Lazy Grey Day in Stafafell