Iceland #19 - Day 7: Rainy Drive to Stafafell

Day six was a complete write-off. I slept in late, woke up feeling quite rough - a little bit of a raised temperature, slightly groggy and headachey and tired. I had the usual coronavirus vs Garun hangover question, but think it was the beer - that stuff just doesn't agree with me any more. I didn't get the DSLR out once, or leave the cabin except to drive around the headland to go into Vík to try the burger at the Smiðjan Brugghús (which was delicious, as were the chips!). I looked out of the window often during the day, and could basically see nothing but rain and the wind blowing the grasses nearby. The cabin can be pretty noisy with wind bashing it, but it's nice and cosy, so a good place to hunker down and wait out the storm. Cars came and went, and I could see people battling the wind as they headed down to the beach. The benefit of having been to this spot on numerous occasions is that I didn't feel compelled to go and see it or take any photos, which would've been pointless and miserable.

So yes, my first ever day in Iceland where I didn't take a single photo (except for one on the iPhone of the burger!). It was so frustrating, as this was supposed to be my day to explore and hike up at Þakgil, a short drive away. Oh well, that is life.

Day seven was better, although it was still windy and rainy when I woke up (so no sunrise trip down to the beach either). I felt much better - no more headache, temperature normal, so didn't feel as if I had the 'rona! It was pretty foggy as I left, stopping for a quick chat with Raggi before heading off. In the day and a half that I'd been there the covid-19 situation had worsened, and they were about to bring in a new regulation whereby tourists visiting from most countries would be required to have a second test, 5 days after their first. It didn't apply to those - like me - who were already there, which was handy, as I didn't want to have to drive out of my way for a second test.

I set off in the drizzle, barely able to see the hillsides of Reynisfjall. When you know how stunning a landscape is it can be infuriating to see it covered up. As I turned right onto the pass around towards Vík there was a slight rise in the clouds. I noticed a motorcyclist that had come off the road, but wasn't hurt - not great driving conditions. I stopped a little further around the big bend to take a couple of shots of the mysterious looking landscape. It was miserable and wet, but atmospheric.

My plan for the day was to drive to Stafafell, stopping for some more food in Höfn, with stops at Lómagnúpur and Jökulsárlón along the way. I drove straight through Vík which seems to have more and more new buildings up on every visit (and no doubt some of the owners will sadly now be bankrupt...). I passed the turn-off up to Þakgil, the road heading off into the fog and murk. I passed the turn-off down to Hjörleifshöfði - could barely see the inselberg in the distance. I drove on and didn't stop again until I reached Foss á Siðu, where I usually stop for a quick snap.

It wasn't too windy, so the waterfall wasn't blowing sideways or upwards, as I've seen it before, but it was still pretty unpleasant with constant drizzle. I next stopped at a little parking area not far from the Fosshotel Núpar, thankful that there was a portaloo there (I suffer so much with a weak bladder, and much of my trips are spent trying to find somewhere to pee!!). The landscape there was pretty too.

I stopped again a little further down the road, as I noticed a couple of upward waterfalls above the turf-roofed houses as Núpsstaður.

Next stop was a brief one at Lómagnúpur, where the cloud had lifted a tiny bit for me, and I was almost able to make out the top. Almost.

To the east I noticed that there was a little break in the cloud cover, and I could just make out a tiny patch of sunshine on a distant glacier - it gave me a little hope for some better weather in my future!

As I got back into the car I noticed that I still had the key to the cottage at Reynisfjara - not the first time I've forgotten to give a door key back, and won't be the last. I was far too far away from there now to turn back, so I sent Raggi an email apologising and promising to pop it back on my return journey the following week. I hoped that he had a spare (he must do!).

I drove on, and stopped at one of the car-parks along the side of the road on the approach to Skaftafell, as there's wonderful views of various glaciers and mountains. I could see both Svínafellsjökull and Skaftafellsjökull; both looking wonderful. With the long lens I was even able to capture some of the detail of the craggy hillsides and glacial ice from there.

I continued on, glad to have some long-distance visibility and views of peaks, and took the left turn towards Svínafellsjökull, which I only visit every few years. I hadn't been since my birthday in Feb 2018, when it had been extremely glassy and slippery. I had thought of hiking around the moraine to the south side, but I could hear some noisy people along there and that put me off. Instead I just walked through the gate and hiked along the path overlooking the edge of the glacier. I was horrified to notice how much it had receded since my first visits. I remembered seeing a couple of guys hiking on the ice in the distance and then below me - now there was no way that you could hike to this side, as the ice no longer reached the side beneath me. I took a few shots of the dirty ice in the distance with the long lens, with no way to understand the size or scale, and then headed back to the car, feeling a little sad.

As I reached the car there were some wonderful undulating clouds overhead to the south-east; I love how quickly the sky changes in Iceland!

I stopped at the petrol station nearby, not having the usual burger on this occasion, since I'd had one the previous night, and I still had enough bread and cheese for my packed lunch instead. I tried to fill the car up, but for some reason it wouldn't allow me to put in enough to fill it up. I stupidly put my credit card back in my trouser pocket on my leg, instead of in the phone wallet (where it usually lived), being rather flustered by the whole not filling up experience, and off I went, next stop Jökulsárlón (yay!!).

As I approached my beloved Jökulsárlón the weather had deteriorated again, and was now raining again, with low cloud obscuring any mountains - wish it wasn't quite that changeable! I crossed the suspension bridge and drove down into the east car-park, got geared up, and headed down to the beach. The rain seemed to be coming in every direction, so it wasn't possible to just take shots away from the rain, which is usually the solution to shooting in crappy weather there! There weren't a huge number of icebergs on the beach, but generally I prefer it that way, so that I can concentrate on one or a group against the black sand and white waves. I wasn't very happy with either the conditions or compositional options, so I took a handful of shots before heading up to the lagoon on foot, under the bridge (I was actually more pleased when I reviewed and processed a couple than I initially thought!).

The lagoon was also murky and the drizzle wasn't letting up. I was surprised to see that the beach along the edge of the water was no longer there - the water level was obviously about a metre higher than it is in winter (or autumn, for that matter). As a result the options were to walk along the ridges overlooking the lagoon. There was a real mish-mash of icebergs in the lagoon, and I couldn't even see the glacier in the distance as visibility was so poor. There were some blue icebergs but my favourite was one that was rather dirty and looked like a bar of Toblerone, with jagged chunks.

I wandered back to the car, stopping to take one last shot with my iPhone. 

I got back to the car, and for some reason noticed that I didn't have my credit card. I checked every pocket about 5 times, and inside the car, under all the seats, etc... I walked back up to the spot where I'd taken the iPhone shot, as that was the first time I'd taken my phone out since the petrol station, hoping that maybe it had fallen out there. No sign of it anywhere. I got back to the car, checked inside the car yet again, and then phoned the petrol station to see if anyone had handed it in: definitely no sign of it anywhere. So I sat in the car, at the edge of Jökulsárlón beach, cancelling my nice credit card with no foreign transaction fees - grrrr! At least I had a couple of other cards, so wasn't stuck (always carry more than one!!).

I drove off, unbelievably annoyed with myself for being so careless, and headed towards Höfn, passing lots of favourite places (the tree line, the wonky tree) but not stopping until I got to the supermarket in the town centre. The new rules in place didn't make a great deal of difference - just had to use hand sanitiser on arrival at the shop. I know my way around the supermarket now, and picked up some salmon fillets, fresh salad leaves, tomatoes and avocados, and then off to the dairy section for some fresh milk and Skyr for cereal. And then I was back off in the car, and on the last bit of the journey towards my yellow cottage, my home away from home. As I left Höfn I noticed an old man with a sheepdog, who was dragging the man forward excitedly. I soon realised why - there was a puddle and as soon as the dog reached it he went mad, jumping around in the water like a puppy. It was an adorable sight; I smiled as I drove past, the man smiled back. I don't think this was the first time the dog had enjoyed such a simple, fun pleasure.

I continued on, with the weather still dire, with no visibility at all - no point making a detour to Stokksnes, as I wouldn't see a thing. I hoped that maybe coming out of the tunnel I'd suddenly be greeted to clearer skies, but alas no, still rubbish! 

I arrived at Stafafell and was greeted by Sigurdur and we chatted briefly about "the situation". He hadn't bothered to open the hostel this year, but had still had plenty of business in the cottages, which I was pleased to hear. I got to the cottage and took a shot on the iPhone to show how miserable the weather was before settling in and making myself some tea.

One benefit of travelling to Iceland in the summer is that the days are long, which gives you more opportunity to for the weather to change during the day. This, at least, is the hope on days like these! Sadly on this particular day the drizzle was set in, so I just had to lump it. The other benefit is that even if the weather's rubbish, there are still more hours of daylight in the day, so at 7pm off I went to Skútafoss, a little waterfall nearby that I've visited on a few occasions. On the way there, I noticed a police car parked at the Hrafnavellir guesthouse, which was strange - I'd never seen a police car on the stretch of road east of Höfn. I got to the waterfall and hiked up there, hoping that given that there was a cave at least I'd get some shots without having rain on the lens after every shot. The water was raging - far heavier than I'd seen this waterfall before. The turquoise stream of the waterfall and the pool into which it falls was still there. Above I could see little trickles of waterfalls coming out from the foggy hills.

I had to clamber over a few rocks to get into the cave, whereas usually the water level is lower and there's no barrier. I felt nervous that the water might be rising even higher, so kept a close eye on it while I was in there. It's a tricky spot to take photographs from, and when I set my tripod up I realised that the knob that tightened the panning mechanism had fallen off. This had happened in Costa Rica too, but I'd seen it lying by the car and tragedy was narrowly avoided. Not so lucky this time - the knob was most likely long gone (and I'd already checked under the car seats for the credit card and nothing had appeared). I could still use the tripod, just had to hold it steady, which kind of defeats the purpose of a tripod! 

After awkwardly trying a few shots in the cave I then headed up onto the rocks above, where I hadn't thought to photograph before. It was great to get a different perspective, but the rain was problematic, so I didn't last long.

The rain began to get heavier, so I called it a day, walking back down to the car. On the drive home I was interested to see that the police car was now in a lay-by near the guesthouse, waiting to nab speeding drivers going past. Fortunately I was driving less than 90kmph as it was so wet and miserable, but often I do go a little over that. There were so few tourists or locals on the road it seemed a little odd for them to be doing it, but then the penalties are quite good, so maybe it's worth it for a little extra police revenue...

I got back home and diced up and fried a chunk of the salmon and served it with salad and washed it down with two divine sour beers (especially the Dr. Schepsky's Passion Fruit Sour - divine!). 

The forecast for the following day was also poor, with more rain, or at least cloud cover all day. It wasn't windy at least, but still annoying. I had a full day there, so hoped to visit Stokksnes, Hvalnes and maybe Skútafoss again if the weather improved. I was also looking forward to the lovely swan lake, Lónsfjörður, although in this weather it was unlikely to be as amazing as usual.

Click here for my blog from Day 5 - Red Volcano and Dark Canyon
Click here for my blog from Day 8 - A Wet Day Around Stafafell

Iceland #17 - Day 7: Exploring Arnarfjörður

The day started with more of the fog that had spoiled my northern lights-viewing chances the previous night. I was glad for the extra sleep, and had a delicious breakfast around the communal table - there were even cooked eggs; Árni went to a lot of effort to look after his guests. After breakfast some of the guests were leaving and I heard some voices outside. I looked out and found that Árni had an arctic fox on a lead, and everyone was taking photos of little Maria! I could just make out the tops of the hills across the fjord, otherwise hidden by the morning fog.

I headed off along the fjord, my destination for the day being Selárdalur, the site of the strange museum celebrating the works of Samúel Jónsson. I soon got out of the fog that had covered the house all night, but it still lingered across the fjord and on the hills to the south. A patch of blue sky allowed the sun to peek through briefly.

On the far side of the fjord to the north I could see the sunshine on the mountains reflected in the water, even though the hills themselves were still obscured.

I drove on and stopped again just before reaching Dynjandi, as the fog rising created some gorgeous patterns as it clung to hillsides, and the views were reflected in the still water.

Dynjandi is a difficult waterfall to capture at the best of times, but on this morning the sun had just risen above the hills above the top falls, and was coming in and out of clouds. Fog nearly obscured the main falls, but you could just make them out. I didn't stop for long, but took a few shots of the slightly eerie view.

After Dynjandi the road climbs up a long winding road, passing another couple of waterfalls on the right. There aren't many places to stop, but I found one where I got a nice view of the falls (Gyrðisfoss). 

Fog still clung to the fjord below me.

I continued onwards and upwards, where the road takes you up above the Dynjandi falls - although it's not possible to see them from above. I stopped a couple of times overlooking the fjord - the view was spectacular.

The dusty red road meanders around the top of the heath for a while, and shortly another wonderful fjord below comes into view, again filled with fog. Geirþjofsfjörður not only has an amazing name but is also extremely stunning. A few spots along the road allowed me to pull over safely and capture the beautiful fjord.

Another few kilometres and I took a right hand turn that took me above Trostansfjörður, where I'd stopped on my previous visit two years earlier, admiring the view of the meandering river below. On this morning it was just sublime.

The road then came down to the edge of the fjord and hugged the hillside, winding around Reykjarfjörður and then Fossfjörður. The fjords were still and mirror-like providing wonderful reflections.

I continued on until I reached the cute little triangular farming hut with the orange roof. As the fog had lifted and the sun was now far higher in the sky the light had become a little dull and flat. The red leaves on the landscape helped to lift the scene a little.

As I approached Bíldudalur I passed a few farms, but there was very little else on that stretch. The roads aren't supported in winter, which clearly discourages anyone from living along there. I drove past the local airport - another strip of land along the road side, at the edge of the fjord - landing there would be quite fun!

I passed straight through the town, which has a ridiculously slow speed limit, and carried on around the south side of Arnarfjörður. The first beach I reached was Vaðall - which is a wide and deep sandy estuary. The sky was a mix of white overcast and blue with patchy and wispy clouds, and there was a good deal of sunshine to help things along.

I drove on to the far side of the beach as it looked a little easier to get onto the white sand. I found a spot to pull off the road and went for a little hike; there were some interesting patterns and channels.

The brown mountains on the northern shore of the fjord reminded me of a bar of Toblerone!

After my little stroll on the beach I continued on my journey west, stopping a few times along the way to capture the beautiful views. It was very different from my last visit, when it was cloudy, rainy and generally miserable, although a bit more atmospheric. It was truly stunning.

The road meanders along the fjord, with small beaches and headlands dotted along the coastline, wide valleys to the south and big eroded mountains towering above. I stopped on another little beach, with nice patterns in the sand, as well as bird and fox footprints.

The sun was coming in and out, and when it was out the scenery was just glorious. I found a wonderful viewpoint above Brimnes beach, where the hillside rolling down to the coast was covered in boulders.

The end of this wonderful stretch of road brings you to the weird and wonderful Samúel Jónsson museum. The museum is built on his old farm, and contains a church, a couple of houses, and a selection of rather odd sculptures. I paid my small donation and had a little look around, taking a few photographs of the oddities.

Feeling a little bemused by the place I headed back, retracing the same route (obviously) as I'd just driven. It was already 3pm by the time I left, and I had a long drive ahead of me (95km on winding, gravel roads, although only 28km as the crow flies). I had to stop at a few of the spots I'd liked along the way, but didn't do much more walking.

The light was becoming more golden as I reached Bíldudalur. As I drove slowly through the little town I noticed an old couple sitting on a bench, enjoying the rather balmy September afternoon. I smiled at the man, and he waved his stick at me and smiled back. As I drove across the spit towards the airport having witnessed this little moment of human connection I began to cry. I don't often cry tears of joy in Iceland, but occasionally I just become overwhelmed at the loveliness of it all; this was one of those moments. And the drive continued to get better!

Soon I could see the orange-roofed triangular hut in the distance, blending in nicely with the landscape.

Obviously I had to stop again when I got there - the light was not dissimilar from the morning, but the sky was a little bluer.

I stopped again when I saw what was probably the loveliest sight on my whole trip. Fortunately I was able to pull over and stop - it was one of those things that I usually don't stop for and then endlessly regret it. But this time I stopped. It was such a simple but glorious view - a little whooper swan family swimming in a line in the fjord below, creating a ripple line behind them.

I watched them swim gracefully across the fjord for a few minutes, still feeling a little tearful. I continued on, stopping to take a few shots of the hot pool nearby before the road climbs up to the heaths with the incredible views.

I reached the same viewpoint that I'd stopped at on the morning drive, overlooking the Norðdalsá river meandering below. The light was superb, with cute little wispy clouds dotted around.

I stopped a little further on when I noticed another spectacular view; another of my favourites from the whole trip. I could see all of the hills that I'd driven in front of earlier going off into the distance; it was magical.

The wind had started to pick up, and suddenly it became very windy and chilly when I stopped. I stopped again on the pass above Dynjandi, as clouds were building above me; the calm warm weather was over.

I passed Dynjandi - which of course was in the shade by now, so didn't stop - and continued on the narrow bumpy gravel road to Laugaból. I stopped to photograph three sheep which would skittishly run away from me and then stop, pose, and then run a little further away and repeat.

The wind was crazy by now - up to usual Icelandic standards, so I took a few shots of the grasses being blown around, combining a few into one shot in processing.

I watched the sky darken and clouds move and morph, eventually becoming illuminated as the sun set. The clouds often look like animals to me; I saw a dancing woman and a galloping horse. Eventually the light was disappearing and I was too cold and hungry, so I continued the last few kilometres to my home for the night.

I was greeted by Árni offering me supper - he'd cooked up some fish for all the guests, as well as some potato salad - it was delicious, and I was very glad to not have to cook after a rather long day! I chatted to him and a few other guests for a while before heading up to my room to download and review photos, call the hubby and check the weather forecast. Although there was a chance of northern lights the clouds now completely covered the sky. I didn't plan to set off too early the following day, although I had quite a lot planned before my ferry back to Snaefellsnes Peninsula for the night. It had been a really fabulous day, completely remote and alone in the most wonderful landscapes. Ah Iceland :)

Please click here for my blog from Day 6 - The Long Drive from Heydalur to Laugaból
Please click here for my blog from Day 8 - Leaving the Westfjords Behind