Iceland #16 - Day 1: A Rainy Drive to Reynisfjara

My journey to Iceland for my sixteenth trip was the usual one - hectic day working from home trying to finish a few things off, tube to Heathrow, fish and chips in the divine Perfectionist restaurant in the lovely Terminal 2, followed by a smooth dark plane ride (on a 737 Max 😮), sitting next to a sweet Australian girl who was on the last leg of a very long flight. I picked up a 6-pack of Garun in duty free, grabbed my backpack, picked up my rental Dacia Duster (which I nearly crashed in the car park by pressing the accelerator instead of the break, having seemingly forgotten how to drive a manual car), and drove to Alftanes, where the lovely little Jökull cat greeted me - his face at the cat flap looking somewhat freaked out that I was there.

The following morning it was rainy and grey and I had a quick catch-up with Sigrún and Johannes - and a couple of espressos - before heading off into Reykjavik where I was meeting a new Twitter buddy, a fellow Icelandophile photographer, Annelies Barentsen. It was already raining, and I ran from the car to the meter and back to the car and down to the café, where I ordered the most expensive cup of tea ever (I was still buzzing from the coffee earlier so no more coffee for me). Annelies arrived and we spent about an hour chatting about our mutual love of Iceland - she was taking it further and actually learning the language, something I've ashamedly made no effort whatsoever to do. We said our goodbyes and I headed to Orr, of course, to pick up a new piece or two (or three, actually). Next stop was a branch of Vinbuðin which stocked a couple of interesting-sounding beers that I wanted to try, followed by a supermarket run to stock up on food for the week (I'd be self-catering every night on this trip). And then the journey began - a long, dull drive in heavy rain!

My first brief stop was at a road called Dímonarvegur, just before Seljalandsfoss, where I noticed a small patch of light to the north.

Other than that, though, there was pretty much nothing to see. Soon I was approaching my favourite rocks and was shocked to find that they had gone! A bunch of rocks sticking out in a lagoon could not just disappear, but they had. There were only two possible options - someone had moved them (extremely unlikely), or it was a particularly high tide, higher than any other time I'd driven past before. I stopped and took a couple of photos, and noticed that the strange bra collection was getting bigger. Hopefully the rocks would reappear on my return.

I drove on, not stopping at Skógafoss, continuing for another half an hour until I saw some nice river braids (there are a lot!) just near Pétursey. It was absolutely pissing it down by this point, and fairly windy, so any photography was rather challenging, and being out of the car extremely unpleasant.

I soon reached my home for the night - a tiny little cottage right next to the entrance to Reynisfjara beach. I'd booked to stay there the previous March but had had to cancel as I'd changed my trip dates and they were full when I went earlier, in February. It was a cute little place, just big enough for a kitchen, sofa-bed, table and tiny shower-room - but perfect for one! I hung out in the cottage for a while, drinking tea (there was no kettle so I had to boil water on the stove - my only criticism of the place!), before getting kitted up and heading out in the rain. At least when the weather is rubbish there aren't as many people out and about on the beach - there was only one couple braving the storm. It was pretty late by now - 6pm - and with no sunset there wasn't much for people to see. I wandered along the beach a tiny bit, but my feet were quickly getting wet from the heavy rain (I hadn't unpacked my wellies yet). I took a few handheld shots of the waves, which were as incredible, dangerous and mesmerising as usual. I experimented a bit with some ICM (intentional camera movement) as the light faded and the rain got heavier. The weather was so ghastly, that I only managed to be out for fifteen minutes before heading back to the cosy cabin for the night.

I cooked some tuna pasta, cracked open one of the beers, downloaded the photos, recharged the batteries, called the hubby, all the while listening to the rain bashing against the roof and windows and the wind whistling and raging outside. It's nice to be in a cabin listening to a storm, although I imagine it would be a bit scary if it was one of the really wild storms that batter the area from time to time. It had been a really disappointing first day, apart from my coffee date and jewellery purchase, but the forecast for the following morning was good, so I set my alarm early enough to be out on the beach before sunrise - a lot easier when you're right there!

Click here for my blog from Day 2 - Driving from Reynisfjara to Jökulsárlón

Iceland #15 - Day 4: Out and about near Jökulsárlón

One of the reasons I wanted to drive all the way along the south coast as far as I do in winter, was to be able to explore the areas a little more, without the limits of the snow cover. I love my winter visits to Jökulsárlón very much, but I do find I'm pretty limited in where I can go - especially if there's a lot of snow on the ground. Stopping at the pullouts and side roads to go and explore just isn't possible most of the time - especially when you travel alone and just cannot risk getting the car bogged down in the middle of nowhere! But I knew that Jökulsárlón wasn't the only glacial lake in the area (I'd already visited a couple of others) and so I wanted to see what else the area had in store for me.

The morning was a very lazy one as it was raining heavily outside, with no visibility. I'm happy to go out in the rain (well, not exactly happy), but if it's pissing down and there's nothing to see then I'd rather stay indoors. On these trips I try to cram so much in that I hope for a bit of crap weather, so that I can catch up on sleep (always a problem, wherever I am!) and review the previous day's photos and process a few. Very important to post a couple of images to social media, of course... So I had a leisurely morning, drinking cups of tea, waiting for the rain to stop, although I didn't rush out as soon as it did.

Eventually I got up the energy to go out and headed down the pretty driveway onto the road down to the beach. I love that stretch of road - the anticipation of what the beach will offer me building as I turn the bend on the last straight. The weather had cleared quite suddenly and the sun was out. It was pretty cold - not dissimilar to winter temperatures, and the wind was incredible. The Icelandic wind never ceases to surprise me. As I wasn't able to park on the east side of the beach I parked near the café and then had the extra walk under the bridge to get to the beach. It wasn't too far or too much of a pain, and at least it gave me a chance to look at the icebergs in the lagoon, which were quite impressive. The place was chock-full of massive ones, many with black stripes from the moraine.

As I walked along the river - which was pouring out towards the sea at a hectic speed - a couple of bergs were being tossed around, over and over by the current. It was quite mesmerising to witness, but I was keen to get to the beach to see if the massive bergs that I'd seen emerging at moonrise in the low tide were now nicely placed on the shoreline for me to photograph. Someone had put a stencil graffiti on the side of the bridge - not sure why people do this...

It was 1.45pm by the time I got there, so only a few hours left until sunset (well, ages actually)! The iceberg situation wasn't great, with scattered bits and pieces strewn along the beach, but nothing remarkable immediately obvious. The waves smashed them relentlessly. There were only a couple of tourists there, unusually - perhaps the distance from the new car-park was putting people off this side of the beach (hurray!). Actually it's often pretty quiet in the middle of the day as the light's a bit harsh for most photographers and tourists are off elsewhere.

It wasn't long before I put the filters on - slowed things down a little...

Leaving the icebergs aside for a bit I did my usual thing of playing around with combinations of filters and settings in order to get some interesting wave movement.  For some I used the tripod, but mainly these were handheld. Sorry there's so many, but I could just watch those waves for hours. And I do!

I wandered up the beach a bit towards a black iceberg that kept getting hit by massive waves crashing against it. It was difficult to get a shot of it not blurred, as the waves moved it almost continuously. I hate a blurred iceberg, so it can be pretty challenging. A big miss rate on these shots!

The freezing wind was whipping at my back, and covering the scattered bergs on the beach in brown sand (it's not very black with the sun shining on it!). I was very glad that I'd decided to take my new heavy-duty 66° North jackets - both the raincoat and warm down jacket were coming in handy. 

The wind blew onto this little iceberg and stuck in the scalloped ridges, making it look like a beached fish (to me)

The wind was making things very challenging. I wanted to use the telephoto lens, but with a filter or two on it and a reduced shutter speed I was also suffering from a little camera shake, in spite of my extremely heavy and sturdy old Manfrotto tripod. Most of the shots I got were slightly blurred, which wasn't surprising. The sun came in and out as some storm clouds approached. There were some interesting shaped icebergs as I wandered further up the beach, some looking like birds or animals, as usual.

Definitely some kind of bird

A Henry Moore?

A swan taking off

A torso :(

A push me-pull you?!

The patterns on the sand were quite cool tool - that wind can whip up some nice patterns!

I looked behind me and noticed a massive snow storm coming towards me. I don't know what it is about that particular beach, but I've seen so many massive snow storms coming towards me there over the years! Always awe-inspiring, until they reach you...

A woman ran down the beach to take a few pictures before scarpering back up the slope.

The storm looked more and more menacing, so I made my way back along the beach a bit. I always stop though, so it always takes me forever to leave! Normally in these conditions I see a wedding photoshoot going on, with the poor bride trying to act as if she's enjoying herself as the biting wind freezes her exposed flesh, before the photographer's assistant wraps her up in a coat between shots. There weren't any out today.

Before I turned up towards the bridge I looked out to sea and noticed a few gannets flying around. I was pretty chuffed with that - I've never seen gannets in Iceland before. A couple of seals were playing around in the waves too. I like this place :) The storm passing to the south was also pretty amazing to see, and thankfully wasn't coming directly overhead as it usually does!

Gannets!

As I reached the bridge the wind was just ridiculous. The edge of the lagoon was packed with visitors, all trying to stay upright and protect their faces from sand being whipped into their eyes! The conditions were very similar to those in winter, so I was surprised to see a Zodiac boat sailing among the icebergs in the distance - it can't have been much fun.

The boat gives a sense of scale of the size of the icebergs - it's actually pretty difficult to see how big they are otherwise in the vast lagoon ahead of you.

Spot the troll!

The place was packed. The new car-park was full, and people milled about everywhere. I guess better here than down on the beach.

I remember the days when there were only....

It was 4.15pm by the time I left - not bad going for me, only two and half hours there - I've been known to spend six! I decided to explore nearby, rather than just hanging around and coming back for sunset, which might or might not happen anyway. I'd researched another glacial lake called Kvíarjökull, which was just around the headland of Oræfi, so I headed west. It was about a half hour drive, but I did one stop along the way to capture the view. When the landscape is covered in snow it is hard to see the glaciers, but now they were in full view.

This is Hrútárjökull, if my google maps identification is correct...

There is a turn off the road up to Kvíarmyrarkambur, with a small car park a few metres up the hill. This is usually inaccessible in winter, but fingers crossed I'll be able to revisit in March, because I loved this place! As soon as you start walking from the car-park you get a fantastic vista of the glacier in front of you, seeping between mountains. This is the view; I was quite blown away (physically and emotionally - it was windy up there!):

I walked down the hill; the other couple turned around and went back to the car, so I had the place to myself (bonus!). I reached the lake and walked along the western side. It was very different to the other glacial lakes nearby - different-sized icy bits floating around, very tranquil and little movement of the muddy, brown water. 

The weather began to deteriorate and I felt a few spots of rain. I continued on, though, as I could see some interesting brown hills in the distance. I eventually reached a point where the face of the glacier was ahead of me. I could see that I could get a little closer to the brown hills at the edge, so I continued on. The rain was holding off mainly, with the odd spot here and there.

I reached the small brown hills, to discover that they were indeed icebergs. But brown icebergs, from the moraine. I was in love. An odd thing to fall in love with, but I was in love. They were just so cool!

I carried on walking across some piles of muddy rock to discover a little lake alongside a line of these brown icebergs. The sky ahead of me darkened by the second - it was only a matter of time that the rain I could see ahead would come for me!

Nice to have the mountain with the hole in the top behind; I've seen it driving past on numerous occasions and believe it is called Stadarfjall

Muddy iceberg hills, my new favourite thing!

The rain began to fall so I turned back (I also couldn't go any further!). I kept on stopping to take more photos though, as I was just transfixed with the place.

That rain came and got me!

It was a lovely hike, but I was glad to get back to the car. The wind and rain were not very pleasant. It was now getting towards sunset time and I had that usual panic of where I was going to be. I decided to drive a little further, towards the colourful tree at Sandfell. As I drove I it rained and the sun shone brightly again and I noticed an intense rainbow in my rear view mirror. By the time I found somewhere that I could pull over it had gone, which was annoying! It was still raining a bit when I reached Sandfell, but the sun also came out from time to time. The sun was setting behind clouds in the distance, with the distant beloved Lómagnúpur just visible.

A bit of googling later on informed me that the tree was a rowan, and had been Iceland's "Tree of the Year 2015"! It was planted in 1923. So I've no idea how come I only noticed it for the first time on the trip in February. I will look out for it, and maybe pay it a visit again some time. I drove back home to Reynivellir as it got dark, and went through the usual rituals (downloading and reviewing the hundreds of photos I'd taken, cooking some pasta, speaking to hubby, drinking a beer, checking weather forecast). The forecast for the night and all the next morning was for cloud and rain, so I was able to forego getting up early again (hurray!). It had been a great day, even if it had started very late. It was so satisfying to discover a new glacier to explore, especially knowing that there's so many more too!

My route on Day 4

Click here for the blog from Day 3 - Hrífunes to Jökulsárlón
Click here for the blog from Day 5 - Jökulsárlón to Stafafell