Iceland #13 - Day 4: Driving to Djúpavík

My fourth day in Iceland was another long driving day, with not a lot of actual sights planned to stop at along the way. I was heading to the little town of Djúpavík, right up on the Strandir coast, in the Westfjords' north-east, and pretty much the furthest possible place to drive on that side. I had two nights booked at the hotel there, so at least I'd get a full day to explore the following day. I had hoped to finally ride an Icelandic horse on that day, but given the weather-forecast I'd decided to save it for another trip.

I woke up to more rain - it was becoming a bit depressing now. I wanted to see the mountains and fjords with some sunshine (and possibly massive storm clouds), but not just endless rainclouds. That clearly wasn't going to happen today (or over the next two either, according to the forecast, which always deteriorates as time goes on, never improving...). The breakfast at the guesthouse was very disappointing, but I ate some bread to fill me up before packing up to go. First stop was the Arctic Fox Center. You can't visit Suðavík and not have a quick look at this place. Housed in a pretty, typically-Icelandic wood-clad building it included some videos, pictures, taxidermied foxes, and lots of information on every aspect of the creatures, their history, and how they feature in Icelandic culture. I had a good look round, learning about their distribution and genetic colour combinations, among other things. I'd only seen one on my trips to Iceland - on my previous one near Stokksnes. The last stop in the museum was outside, where there were two young rescued foxes living in a pen. One was curled up in a little ball on the grass and the other slept under a little hutch. I couldn't believe how tiny they were! The foxball one eyed me but didn't engage, and the other one got up and tiptoed around a bit. They were very cute.

I took a couple of pictures of an imposing red house and the pretty church before setting off.

The next stop was a brief one, owing to the rain, at the bottom of the Álftafjörður - a valley that was supposed to be rather beautiful, Seljalandsdalur. It was a two kilometre hike to a little area called Valagil, a canyon, but I didn't have the energy to go and explore. Instead I took a few shots of the rain falling in the fjord, a random waterfall in the distance falling down the side of the valley.

I stopped a little further on to capture another farm hut (I do like my farm huts!) - it wasn't nearly as cool as the orange-roofed one, but it would have made an awesome barn conversion (and it gets a little more light in the winter than the other one).

At the end of the next headland I stopped to look back across at a misty Suðavík. It was partially destroyed by an avalance in January 1995, killing 14 people, but was rebuilt a little further away from the dangerous zone. There was an impressive pointy mountain towering above, but it was difficult to capture. To the north I could just make out the Drangajökull icefield on the other side of the fjord - a tiny sheet of the ice visible under thick cloud.

The road turned sharply into the next fjord - Seyðisfjörður (another one) - and soon I passed a pretty church - Eyrarkirkja; a sailboat was passing in the fjord nearby. Iceland certainly knows how to make cute churches!

There was a small pass over a hill before coming down into yet another long fjord - Hestfjörður. This one was pretty narrow and seemed to go on forever, the sides dotted with waterfalls trickling down every slight indent in the hillsides. I passed a car full of women tourists who'd just stopped at the side of the road with their hazard lights on, not making any attempt to even pull off to the side at all. If I get irritated by that I can only imagine what the locals must think (I always try to stop where there is a gravel side-road so I can pull off the main road itself). Soon after I reached the end of the fjord and it turned another very steep bend. Lots of cars were parked at the side of the road, and I realised that there were some seals out on the seaweed. You couldn't get very close, but it's always nice to get a little glimpse.

Nearby was an old delapidated farm hut with a strange sign next to it - I've seen it a few times now and have no idea what it means.

The seals marked the beginning of Skötufjörður, the fourth fjord I'd driven alongside in just over an hour. Again the steep hillsides were striped with delicate waterfalls. I'm sure they were all photogenic in their own rights, but the light wasn't great and I wanted to get a move on, so I didn't bother photographing any of them. When I reached the far side of the fjord I noticed some interesting rock formations along the shore - which reminded me a bit of pancake rocks I'd seen in New Zealand many years earlier. A fortuitous parking area came up, so I parked up and took my camera gear along the beach to where I could see the cool rocks. Then a miraculous thing happened - the sun came out!!

It was only for a few minutes, but it cheered me up a little. The beach was littered with red seaweed, which would have been good to capture with the hired Zeiss macro lens, which I'd barely used yet, but I decided I'd do that on my way back to the car. The weird stacked rocks had caught my eyes instead. The sun was already disappearing, disappointingly. One of the rocks looked a bit like a crocodile - I really do see faces or animals in things all the time!

I didn't even notice at the time, but when I looked at the map afterwards the name of the place I thought I was at (Vigur, as there was a sign where I parked) actually belonged to a low-lying island out in the fjord.

The wind got up a little and the sun completely disappeared behind thickening, dull white cloud, so I wandered back to the car. I took a little detour to capture some fantastically eroded rocks at the edge of the beach, which reminded me a bit of some of the formations at Hjlóðaklettar up in the north-east. Some bits looked like screaming, pained and tortured faces (I had a severe attack of pareidolia). Perhaps they were the skulls of trolls... (sorry for all the photos - but I just love these things!!)

I decided not to bother with any macro shots, but took a couple of quick shots of the seaweed.

I drove on and didn't stop again until I reached the N1 petrol station near the Hotel Reykjanes, also deciding against the detour to the hot pool in the Heydalur area as there were more near where I was headed. I put some petrol in the car (not filling up as they kept charging my account with a full ISK 25,000 if I pressed fylla) and then an American woman pulled up and asked if I knew where a place called Saltverk was. I hadn't heard of it, but pointed her in the direction of the hotel - I'm sure they would have known - there certainly wasn't much else in the vicinity (they made local artisanal salt). She was the only other woman I met who was travelling alone - we're a rare breed!

I carried on, finally leaving the fjords. It had been like tracing fingers on a hand -  there were so many and they were so narrow! It was actually a relief to head uphill again onto another heath. Pleasant as the drive had been it hadn't been very spectacular like the south-western part of the Westfjords. I knew I would pass a few waterfalls, and had planned to stop, but when I reached the one impressive one there was no obvious stopping place and I decided to just continue on. I was hungry, and decided to carry on to Hólmavík to see if I could get something there. By the time I reached the junction which marked the road off to Djúpavík, though, I decided just to continue on up there - no point making a 20km detour to get a crappy burger! The road became a bit more interesting and I looked out for a left-hand-turn that would take me north. I didn't see such a turn and eventually found myself in Drangsnes, which was past where I thought I would turn. It didn't matter, as there's a set of three hot pools along the side of the road, so as I was there I decided to take a dip. It's a rather strange experience to change into your bikini and then walk across the road in the middle of a little town, barefoot, to leave your stuff in the car, and then hobble along the uneven road to the pools, all in the rain. A couple of French women had arrived just before me, so it was nice to have some company to chat to (travelling alone does get a bit lonely, so I talk a lot when I see people!). One of the women was working in Iceland as a tour guide, but was on a week's break with her friend.

The pools were lovely - set on the edge of the Steingrimsfjörður. It was raining gently, which didn't matter given that I was in lovely hot water. I got out at one stage to take a picture of the girls and was suddenly horrified to see that my lovely new silver Orr ring had turned completely gold!! I'd read that one should take off silver jewellery, but hadn't bothered at the last pools (which were untreated) and so forgot here. I wouldn't be making that mistake again. My necklace was also discoloured, but my earrings had been above water level and made it out unscathed.

*iPhoneSE shot of my feet

*iPhoneSE shot looking strangely orange!

By the time I left Drangsnes it was just before 4pm and still raining. I didn't have a great distance to go, but I'd read that the road was a slow one. Before I left I stopped at a little shop to pick up some Skyr for my breakfast for the next two days (didn't fancy spending €17 in the hotel). I also had one to eat there and then as I'd missed lunch and was now very hungry (I tried a caramel one - yum!). It took me just over an hour and a half to finally reach Djúpavík, after a few stops to capture the stunning roads along the way (including the last high pass with views down to the Veiðileysa fjord).

On arrival it was bucketing down, but I had a warm greeting from the hotel staff and one of the two resident dogs (Freya, the sheepdog). The room was simple but nicely decorated, and the view was delightful - over the fjord (another Reykjarfjörður!), with a derelict peer covered in seabirds. Fog clung to the mountains opposite - it was very atmospheric. I went out to take a few shots once the rain dissipated - it was most serene.

I had dinner as soon as the restaurant opened (7pm) as I was starving, having missed lunch again. I had cod, served with rice and salad, and a delicious spicy sauce, washed down with a beer I hadn't tried before - the Einstök Wee Heavy (I hadn't brought my Swiss Army Knife with me - by accident - so no way to easily open my own beers in my room!).

*iPhoneSE shot

I went out again after dinner in the gloaming, and met the other dog - Soley the English Bulldog. Soley and Freya were playing around and Soley then climbed on the rocks along the shore - she was remarkably agile given her frame!

*iPhoneSE shot

*iPhoneSE shot

I took a few hand-held shots with a bit of intentional movement, trying to capture the mysterious atmosphere, and then took a few more from my bedroom, the lights turned off to avoid reflections. I quite liked a couple!

I had an early night, ear-plugs in (again) as my neighbour was a loud snorer and the walls are very thin in these old historic wooden Icelandic buildings, looking forward to a day exploring the nearby area, which I'd discovered had a few small sea stacks dotted about.

Click here for blog from Day 3 - Dynjandi (plus more!)
Click here for blog from Day 5 - Exploring Árneshreppur

Iceland #13 - Day 3: Dynjandi (plus more!)

I've seen pictures of Dynjandi for many years, but as I only ever used to come to Iceland in the winter, it was always out-of-bounds, so I never expected that I'd see it any time soon. Now I come in late summer/early autumn I finally got my opportunity. The day ahead was a busy one, with a considerable amount of driving (although so close as the crow flies!), and not actually much time for sightseeing or photography. The itinerary was to drive from Patreksfjörður to Selárdalur (to see the museum of Samúel Jónsson), then onto Dynjandi, before driving to Ísafjörður for dinner and then on to Súðavík for the night. If I had time, I hoped to fit in a waffle in Þingeyri (apparently there's a place with the best-ever waffles), but time was going to be tight. I also had a hot pool stop planned along the way.

The weather was still dreadful when I woke up (but at least, again, I'd had a good night's sleep and hadn't had to get up for sunrise). I looked out and could spot which visitors had already been to Látrabjarg and which had just arrived off the ferry (why they have white rental cars in Iceland will never cease to baffle me).

* iPhoneSE shot from my bedroom window

I had another delicious breakfast, and more brief chats with the Austrian couple and the Finnish girl. The Austrians told me that they'd washed their car for free at the N1 station down the road, so once I'd packed up I did the same, removing the majority of the dirt from the Mokka. The dirt was sticky, like clay, and took ages to try to remove - hard work with the brush and hose combination! Eventually it was done and I was able to see out of the back window again, and the number plate looked shiny and new! It was just after 10 by the time I left, remembering to take my packed lunch bag out of the fridge.

My first destination was the Samúel Jónsson outdoor sculpture museum in Sélardalur, through the tiny town of Bíldudalur, and then almost at the end of the long and quite stunning Arnarfjörður. The pass out of Patreksfjörður was - not surprisingly - incredible, winding and foggy (as usual)! Even though the passes looked similar in these conditions I still loved them and pulled over when I found a safe spot at the side of the road to pull off. These roads were sealed, so I managed to get myself down to the town in good time.

Bíldudalur houses the Icelandic Sea Monster Museum, which had I had more time I might have visited; I had so much to fit in that I had to give it a miss. The sculptures beckoned. I'd seen from Google Maps that I would pass another sweeping white sandy bay on the journey, and there it was after I turned a corner, with a beautiful backdrop of moody mountains behind and on the other side of the fjord.

The road hugged the coastline, passing endless stretches of sand and turquoise waters. I can only imagine how the colours must look with the help of a little sunshine. The weather had become a little drier, with big clouds visible off into the distance and the odd patch of sun appearing occasionally. The views around every bend were just spectacular, thankfully visibility was good. It was possibly my favourite drive on the whole of the trip. Not a soul around either :)

I passed a couple of houses, one was stark and alone, another was hidden behind trees - a perfect retreat with incredible views. I could imagine living there (in spite of the lack of actual sun for many months of the winter).At just after midday I finally reached my first actual destination (rather than just beautiful stops along the road) - the museum at Sélardalur that was created by Samúel Jónsson to show off his work. It was a strange little place, with an austere little church, a couple of houses (one recently rebuilt, all recently re-painted) and some rather odd sculptures. The grey skies and pointy dark brown mountain behind were certainly a fitting setting. I'd read that Sigur Rós had performed there - what magic that would have been! The place was amazing, and I wandered through the figures, unsure as to what it was all about; a glimpse through the window to his workshop giving me just a little hint...  

It began to rain slightly, so that seemed like a good time to go back to the car (getting my purse from the car to pay the ISK 500 entrance fee (well worth it)), and then I was off, driving back down along the beautiful fjord (so green in places!), my next destination the hot pools. I would love to have explored the valley more, but time didn't allow it.

Obviously I had to stop on numerous occasions as I drove back past the sandbanks, which were now far more visible as the tide was lower. I climbed up a little hill for a better vantage point at one stage - great view of the potholes in the road too!

I'd hoped to pass a petrol station grill bar in Bíldudalur, so I could get a burger for lunch (it was after 1.30pm by the time I got back there so was feeling a bit peckish). There isn't much there and I didn't turn off the "main" road, but instead continued on, leaving my lunch options to chance. After leaving the town I began a long meander around the edge of endless small fjords. At the end of the first, Fossfjörður, was a small waterfall by a bridge. I stopped for a short while and was graced with sunshine - the first glimpse since just before Flatey on my ferry ride two days earlier. The marshy land between me and the fjord's edge glowed almost yellow for a couple of minutes, with the mountains providing a blue backdrop, before a cloud snatched the sunshine away from me again. The waterfall, I found on my map later, is imaginatively named Foss.

A little way up the hill on the way to the next fjord I suddenly slammed on the brakes as I saw the most picturesque hut, with a triangular section with a rectangle attached, covered with a bright orange corrugated iron roof - it shone in another brief patch of sun.

When I looked back at the pictures of this little farm hut I decided that I wanted to buy it and fix it up as a holiday home. I looked at the sunlight in the winter and soon decided that wouldn't be a terribly bright idea...

Around in the next fjord, was Reykjarfjörður (one of the many), with it own little hot pool at the side of the road. There was a small hut with two changing rooms, a large green-painted rectangular pool with strange green water, and a few steps away were some hot pools in the grass. I changed into my bikini and settled down to a quick soak in the more authentic grassy pools. A couple showed up, took a few photos, but didn't join me, and then I wandered across the muddy grass and did a few lengths in the bigger pool, which was also a lovely temperature. I dried myself, got changed, and headed on, Dynjandi beckoning.

* iPhoneSE shot

 

In the next fjord, Trostansfjörður, the road began to climb again - another mountain pass up into the fog! At the top it cleared a bit and I had a fantastic view down to the river valley below.

I didn't stop again until I reached Dynjandi, meeting some rain and keen to get to the big falls. The road surface was unbelievably red - I wish now I'd stopped, even in that rain. As the road passed above the hill that Dynjandi flows down my excitement grew. I passed a couple of very impressive waterfalls, but with that one just around the next corner I guess they got very few visitors. I turned into the road that led to the carpark and as the falls came fully into view in their entirety they actually took my breath away and I noticed a few tears falling. It is very rare that anywhere has that effect on me, but this place sure did!

I was keen to get up to the top of the falls, where the main waterfall cascades down the rock-face, so I rushed up the path, only taking a few handheld shots on my way. Before I set off my empty tummy reminded me that I hadn't had any lunch, so a Nature Valley was wolfed down. It's uphill all the way to the main platform, but not too far. It is an extremely challenging waterfall to capture, however; something I hadn't expected. At the base of the main falls I set up my tripod, wiping spray off the lens between each shot.

I wasn't feeling inspired with the composition, so moved around a little, including up a bit further to the right hand base of the falls. It was extremely wet there, but if I went a little further I managed to avoid most of the spray. The lens was just constantly covered in mist. At one point I changed lenses (away from the water) to get the wide-angle on.

I found an area that I thought might work for self-portraits and took a couple, doing the usual darting around to get in position before the ten seconds was up and then holding very still, as the exposure was pretty slow. It was amazing that the lens wasn't completely covered in water droplets and spray, that the water was smooth and that I was in focus and not moving at all (not all the photos worked quite that well!).

I gave up on that idea and tried to photograph a few visitors to get a sense of scale, but again the spray was difficult and I couldn't get the right view with people in. I chatted to the woman in the orange jacket as she said she'd taken a shot of me and would email it to - I never got it :(

People came and went and then the rain returned, which on top of the spray didn't make the whole experience much fun. I set the camera on the tripod for a bit to try to get some long exposure smooth detail shots. Unfortunately when you're travelling alone you don't have anyone to pose for you and stay still while taking the long exposure shots, so any shots with people in (apart from the ones of me) had to be quick, in order to avoid people motion blur.

It was getting late, and I had to leave by about 5.30pm in order to make my dinner reservation (more on that below!).

I wandered back down the path towards the car, stopping along the way to capture the view from below with people silhouetted against the falls, now too exhausted to get the tripod set up, so just shooting hand-held with a high ISO and fast shutter speed.

When I got back to the car I realised that I hadn't taken any photos of the whole set of falls, so took a quick shot with another filthy car in the foreground.

I stopped again a little further on, when I'd drive to the other side of the nearby Borgarfjörður - the falls can be seen from very far away if you're driving south. I'm glad I approached it from the other direction and got the first breathtaking view so close.

The last part of the journey to Ísafjörður would take me across two more mountain passes and through a long tunnel. Before I reached the first ascent I stopped to capture the most serene view. This photo is straight off the camera - so moody! I loved the little mountain sitting out on its own. You can just make out Dynjandi in the distance, showing where I'd come from.

The first pass - Hrafseyrarheidði - was most definitely one of the most spectacular roads I'd driven on, both on the ascent up from the fjord and the descent on the other side leading down to Þingeyri. I stopped at the top and met the woman in the orange jacket and her companion - they were taking silly selfies at the top. I took one too on the iPhone - grinning madly at the wonderful view (with the hair whipping across my face in the wind). The pictures don't capture the depth of the descent and the sheer splendour of this view.

* iPhoneSE shot

After that stop the road continued to wind up and up, around and around, before finally reaching a plateau and then opening up to another spectacular winding road down into the valley and fjord below. I was blown away, again!

I reached Þingeyri at around 6.20pm, but still had quite a long way to go - around the fjord, across a pass, and the tunnel, so there was absolutely no way I had time to fit a waffle in (it was just as well, as my stomach was empty enough to enjoy the feast that awaited me in Ísafjörður). The rest of the drive was picturesque, although the next pass wasn't as high or windy. The tunnel was an interesting one, and as soon as I was inside I remembered having read about it on a blog while researching the trip - it had a single-lane section for 4km (as well as a junction)! There were passing points every 200m or so, so passing wasn't going to be a problem. Fortunately - and possibly unusually - I didn't pass another car at all until the last section, after the junction heads off to Suðureyri, which has a lane on each side. Soon I was out of the tunnel, back in the light, at the outskirts of Ísafjörður. It was seven on the dot - the time of my reservation at Tjöruhusið, a well-renowned fish restaurant. I had no idea where it was, and I wasn't getting any network on my phone, so I drove around a bit aimlessly for a while. I guessed that it must be down near the harbour so drove down there, but failed to see it. I drove back along the little jutting-out peninsula on which a good part of the town is built, and stopped to ask in a petrol station. It was back where I'd just driven - I just hadn't noticed the red building. I took my camera bag inside with me, not wanting to leave it unattended in the car (now I was in a big, scary town). It was pissing down with rain when I arrived, so it was nice to get into somewhere so cosy and dry. The place was already bustling with atmosphere and people queuing up for their first course of fish soup. I squeezed through and went up to the bar counter, hoping that they'd got my email about the reservation (it had been agreed a month or so earlier, but they'd said to email to reconfirm). The reservation did exist and I was led to a 6-seater picnic-style table, between two couples - one Dutch, one Italian - my camera bag on the opposite bench as my companion! I didn't get the camera out but took a couple of shots on the iPhone.

There is no menu - you get the fish soup to start, then queue up again and pick a selection of salads and vegetables and then there's about 6 or 7 massive frying pans filled with different, imaginative fish dishes. I ordered an Einstök beer and then waited for the queue to subside. I looked around - it was an interesting mix of English-speaking tourists and some locals - obviously the place to be on a Sunday night at the end of the summer in Ísafjörður. As I was the last to arrive I got my soup last, just before the fish dishes came out and everyone began queueing again. The soup was delicious, and I stupidly ate two pieces of bread (I was ravenous), not leaving enough room to do the main course complete justice. I chatted a bit to the couples on either side, before finally getting my own food.

I don't remember how all of the dishes were cooked, or what they were, but I do remember the plaice being one of the most delicious things I'd ever eaten, and the Atlantic catfish in blueberries and bacon and the bacalao were great too. I went back for more plaice, forcing a little more down as it was so divine.

Once I could force no more down I paid up and left (it was about £55, including the pint of beer). Not cheap, but not the most expensive place in Iceland, I'm sure. I didn't have far to drive, but by now it was almost dark; at least the rain had stopped. I'd decided to stay in nearby Suðavik, to shorten the following day's drive a little. I found the address to my little guesthouse (the Fjord) and the friendly staff checked me in. It was a tiny little place, but comfortable. As I set up my laptop I realised that I'd left my reading glasses in the restaurant. I called them up, then called again later and there was a second setting so they didn't want to go through people's tables looking for them. They said that I could go and collect them the following day between 11am and 12pm (if they showed up!), when the chefs arrived. That really messed up my plans for the next day, so I was very relieved when - as I lay in bed feeling annoyed with myself - I suddenly remembered that I had picked them up and put them in the front pocket of my camera bag. I switched on the light, and found them in the pocket. This meant that my plans for the following day wouldn't be ruined. It had been a long day, full of stunning roads, beaches, waterfalls and food. And it had rained for a good part of the day, but up here in the Westfjords you can't let something trivial like the rain dampen your spirits.


Click here for the blog from Day 2 - Exploring the Látrabjarg Peninsula
Click here for the blog from Day 4 - Driving to Djúpavík