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!
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Day 2 - Driving from Reynisfjara to Jökulsárlón
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