Iceland #14 - Flight There & Day 1

And so I returned to Iceland for my fourteenth trip in February....

I sometimes wonder if I'll tire of the place, and occasionally I have moments of "perhaps I should explore somewhere else?" - when I hear the excruciating whine of a drone above me, see groups of Chinese drive off in a blizzard, people walking across pristine sand in front of my camera, etc... but those thoughts soon pass, I move away from the crowds, look around me and know that I'll be back again and again.

I found myself flying to Iceland a few weeks earlier than planned after a rather annoying cock-up with the screening process for a new job. I had made an inadvertent mistake in submitting some bits and pieces online and the result was that my start-date for the new job was pushed back until 3 days before I was due to fly out to Iceland for 12 days - not ideal. I'd booked the Iceland trip back in May 2017; I never usually book until 1-3 months before, but I wanted to make sure I got the best value flights and the accommodation I wanted (and early March seems to be particularly popular with photography tours block-booking the places I might want to stay). When the new start-date presented itself to me it crossed my mind that perhaps I might be able to go to Iceland earlier and just start the new job once the trip was out of the way. This meant that my counting down the days until my trip went down from 31 to 6 days. It also meant losing a couple of hours of daylight each day, a little bit of money for BA flights booked on Avios, extra car-hire cost (minimal, thankfully), the possibility of losing a pre-paid hotel booking at a posh hotel, and the possibility of harsher weather. I managed to re-book everything, and only ended up being about £120 out of pocket (plus it cost me a few extra Avios spent to fly back in Club Europe, which was the only flight available on the day I wanted to travel on BA - all the other airlines had bumped up their prices last-minute). The posh hotel let me change my booking, which made me very happy.

The other last-minute panic was clothing. Usually I borrow a very warm Rab down jacket from my dad, which keeps me warm on the coldest of Icelandic nights, standing outside waiting for those pesky aurora to appear, but I didn't have time to go back to pick it up from my parents. I wanted to get a new jacket of my own anyway, so used this as an excuse to do so, did a bit of research and decided on a 66 North (Icelandic) one, to be purchased on my first morning there. I also invested in a couple of bits of Arcteryx clothing the day before I left.

And so I headed off to Iceland via City Airport, where BA now flies from, at a leisurely 1pm on a Sunday afternoon at the beginning of Feb. As I'd rebooked only a few days earlier, and had been busy finishing at my old job, having leaving lunches and drinks, I hadn't really spent the usual time obsessing about the upcoming weather-forecast, but I was a little nervous about a storm on my first couple of days there, so didn't book the second night's accommodation - deciding that I'd wait and see how far I could safely get, heading east.

We took off a little late - the toilet on the tiny plane wasn't flushing initially, but they managed to fix it. We flew out of grey London but soon I got my first glimpse of snowy hills over the Lake District, before noticing the bridges near Edinburgh in the distance. We soon reached the snowy highlands of Scotland. I was able to spot the landmarks on google maps when I got home - these are the River Forth at Alloa and Loch Monar!

Unfortunately even though I was right at the back, way behind the engine, there was still a fair amount of jet trail to distort any photos with the camera remotely pointed downwards, so shots towards the horizon worked the best. The windows were a bit scratched too, but I managed to get some shots I liked, even if they're not technically brilliant. The plane was pretty empty, so I was able to move from one side to the other, taking plenty of shots of the surreal aerial landscape. I managed to identify a few more places that I passed over (again, via google maps) - Portree Harbour and the Sound of Raasay (first photo), and the tiny little pointy stack in the portrait picture below is the one at the southern end of Talisker beach (on the Minginish Peninsula), where I spent an hour back in 2012! The light out of the west side of the plane was stunning in the afternoon light - the sea glowed a brilliant gold.

Eventually we left Scotland behind us and headed towards Iceland - the layers of clouds, shadows, weird light and the golden sea below me just mesmerising!

Some of the clouds looked like rolls of cotton wool.

I kept checking out of the right hand side windows to see if Iceland was coming into view, but the cloud was dense. On the other side, though, the view was just spectacular the whole way - with an enormous halo and sun-dogs around the sun at one point (shame about the filthy windows!), and orange glowing clouds.

We started to descend and soon were in the cloud, which went on and on; we only came out of it a minute or so before touching down at Keflavík where it was absolutely pissing down with rain.

The usual formalities at the airport ensued - picking up some Borg beer at the duty free shop (they had a special selection of the Sutur imperial stouts which would do me for the week), finding the backpack at the outsized luggage place (it was actually on the conveyor belt this time), and then heading to the car rental place. After my last-minute change through Auto-Europe (I have to give them a shout out - what a freaking fantastic company they are!) my rental was with Budget, whose counter was at the airport (it was the first time in years that Pro Car hadn't been the cheapest). I did all the paperwork and then headed out into the rain to locate my white Dacia Duster - the same model I'd had all those years ago (well, 6) on my first solo photography trip to the island. The rain was pelting down, so I packed the bags onto the back seat, got in, was unable to find the back window de-misting button, and set off towards Alftanes, unable to see anything behind me through the rear-view mirror.

This journey must be so disheartening to some people - along a tedious stretch of road, surrounded by stark volcanic black nothingness, in the rain, past factories and billboards, fast food joints and signs telling you that this is the home of elves, and then that this is the home of the Vikings, not really knowing what it's trying to tell you, before finally arriving in pretty downtown Reykjavík. To me it wasn't depressing at all, though, as it was the beginning of the my journey back to the south-east, to a couple of my dear favourite places in the world. And also I just wanted to get to Sigrún and Johannes's in time for a delicious welcoming supper!

I had the usual warm greeting (even though Johannes had come down with flu), with Sigrún having laid on a massive spread, including divine home-made tomato soup and finished off with a rather special peanut butter cake. It's always lovely to catch-up, and watch their children (and my favourite cat in the world, Jökull) grow. I checked the weather and it looked fairly mixed the following day, but not too windy - and certainly not windy enough for road closures - so I decided it was safe to book somewhere further west to stay. Sigrún's brother runs a guesthouse in Hrifunes, between Vík and Kirkjubæjarklaustur - the Glacier View - which he has just extended with ten lovely cabins, so she texted to see if he had any availability. He had one room left, so they booked me in there. I'd stayed at their neighbour's guesthouse a couple of years earlier (when a massive storm had come in overnight) and had always wanted to stay at her brother's place, but they'd only recently opened during winter, so finally I had my opportunity. We had a fairly early night and I checked the weather and aurora forecasts again (the former mixed, but generally okay, the latter fairly inactive). I googled how to de-mist the window on the Duster, and discovered that I'd just been completely blind - there was a little button to press (having said that, the lighting was terribly designed so I couldn't actually see it).

I got up fairly early and chatted to Johannes, who wasn't feeling any better and was staying off work. It had snowed overnight, so everything looked far prettier than the night before. I eventually set off (able to see out of the back of the car), my first stop being the 66 North shop, not far away in Garðabær - obviously I got a little bit lost but eventually found it (it is a lot easier these days with roaming not costing extra, so I can stop and look up on google maps at any time now, instead of waiting until I'm somewhere with wifi!). I'd decided which jacket I wanted to buy - a ridiculously expensive 3-in-1 combo of a thick very waterproof shell and a very warm down, which could be warn zipped together or separately. I tried on a few - boiling instantly, as I had thermals on - but eventually decided on the one I'd originally planned to buy. I got some light woollen gloves too, having left my other pair behind in London. Feeling a lot poorer I headed out, next stop shopping for some basics for the week. After that my next stop was obviously an important one - the obligatory stop to see my wonderful jeweller, Orr. I'd had a disaster a few months earlier - the front of one of my earrings had come off one morning and I spent the following morning walking along the Kings Road for half an hour looking intently at the pavement to see if the street cleaners might have missed it - no sign :( I parked at a metered spot outside a hotel around the corner, put enough money in the metre so I wasn't too rushed and headed to the shop. It was already 10.30am by the time I arrived - a little later than planned. I gave the remaining earring back to Orr and asked if it was possible to replace it - they'd see what they could do. I didn't go as mad as I have done sometimes, picking up a couple of pendants for gifts and one new necklace for me. Oh, and some new earrings. Okay, it was a little mad. It was an end-of-job treat for myself. Feeling all Orr-ed up I headed off, beginning my journey and adventure.

The weather was fairly miserable, with steely blue-grey skies. At least the snow overnight had made the landscape look a lot less bleak. I headed across the Hellisheiði pass, stopping at the viewpoint for a quick shot. It's a great spot to just stop and admire the landscape beyond - a few geothermal plumes visible in one direction, various mountains in another, and the flat plains towards the sea beyond. The sun was struggling to peak out, but not quite managing.

It was pretty nippy so I hopped back in the car and continued on down the massive winding hill. Next stop was Hvolsvöllur for a loo stop, my first gas-station burger of the trip, and a cheeky trip to the Vínbúðin opposite, to get a few other beers to provide me with an alternative to the stouts, should I so desire.

iPhoneSE shot of Hvolsvöllur burger - tasty!

iPhoneSE shot of graffiti in the toilets at the Hvolsvöllur petrol station

I continued on, not stopping until a pull-out not far from Seljalandsfoss, with the jumbled little peaks of Vestmannæjyar just visible on the horizon under the dark, ominous clouds. I could just see the braided rivers that ran between me and the sea and wished I was up in the air to look down on the striations.

Again, I didn't stay out long, although my new jacket was toasty, and continued on, not bothering to pull in to see Seljalandsfoss (with its ISK700 parking fee!). My first proper stop (with tripod, parked up) was at my favourite rocks. The water surrounding them was frozen and they looked fairly grim, but still striking. I do love them, I don't know why! (probably because the first time I ever saw them was in sunshine after three days of gloom and I drove on by without stopping and regret it to this day!). Near the rocks was a massive number of geese which from time-to-time would fly a little around and back - unfortunately no great goose murmurations for me!

I continued on, disappointed with the miserable conditions, not really in the photographing zone yet, feeling a little grumpy. I drove on for a while, pulling into the road opposite Skógafoss for a quick shot or two. It too looked pretty dreadful - the water an ugly dirty grey, the surrounding fields and hills only just covered with enough snow to hide the horrid yellowy winter grass, and the skies an overcast white-grey meh!

I continued on and hoped that the weather might improve a bit for me to visit one of the headlands or beaches around Vík, but no, it worsened! I drove through light snow with almost no visibility as I passed the turn-offs to Dyrholaey and Reynisfjara, and drove straight through the ever-expanding town of Vík. No point stopping if there's nothing to see, I decided, and a warm welcoming guesthouse and cabin awaited me a little further up the road.

I did make one little diversion, to an area on the sandur that had some interesting pointy low hills. I'd driven down that same road a couple of years earlier, again with menacing skies above me. This time I stopped on the other side of the road and took a few shots of the funny little peaks to the east. A sign showed me that this was the site of a Benedictine monastery from the 12th Century (or something - I didn't take a picture and cannot find anything online about this!). I noticed that I could also see my beloved Lómagnúpur mountain in the distance, not to mention the Vatnajökull ice-cap.

I continued on, and as I took the turn-off up to Hrifunes the weather started to improve slightly, with the sun managing to break the mass of nasty clouds briefly. I'd remembered from my previous trip there that the sides of the roads were dotted with small ponds and grasses and black rocky bits. It was quite pretty, in spite of being just a few ponds, grasses and rocky bits! For a moment there was a nice glow in the sky and I felt happy to be back in Iceland, in the middle of the nowhere, surrounded by big skies and a black road heading off in both directions.

I arrived at the guesthouse to a friendly welcome from Sigrún's brother Borgar (I'd texted him to tell him my approximate arrival time, as the roads weren't exactly clear, so he at least would know if I hadn't made it safely!) and his wife. He showed me to my cabin, which was absolutely lovely - one of a series of ten blackened-wooden cabins with beautiful simple decor inside and lovely bathroom and windows on both sides to enjoy the views. I decided to go for a little walk and ventured out down a slight hill - the guesthouse sits atop a river valley, and I could see the river braiding out towards the coast. One of these days I'll fork out for a sightseeing flight to capture those incredible braids.

It began to snow and get a bit blizzardy, so I headed back to my cabin to warm up. Again, I was glad for my excellent new coat, keeping me warm and dry.

iPhoneSE shot of the Glacier View Guesthouse new cabins

Borgar texted again to make sure I wasn't still out in the blizzard (I was enjoying the warmth of the cabin and was very safe!). Later on I went up to the house where dinner was served to guests around two communal tables. I chatted to a young Austrian couple, who were very much in love (!), an older French couple, and a Chinese couple - quite an eclectic bunch. We shared stories of Iceland and travel. The food was divine - endless courses and delicious - and I washed it down with a few local beers (can't remember the names - one was Freyja, I think). The snow continued, so no chance for any night photography, so I had a reasonably early night in my cosy cabin, hoping I might get my phojo (photography mojo) back the following day.

Click here for the blog from Day 2 - my birthday!

Iceland #13 - Day 1: Finally Visiting the Westfjords!

Iceland greeted me with a vague green bow across the sky that I could just see if I pressed my face against the plane window and blocked out the reflecting light with my black top. Soon we dipped into the low cloud and the sight was gone and I landed at an ever-increasingly busy Keflavík. I went through the normal routine of picking up some Borg beer (the Garún) and waiting at the belt for my luggage for 10 minutes before remembering that backpacks are now delivered at a separate area. I headed out and looked for the car rental guy - finally seeing him and following him out into the parking area (where the cool silver statue with the men looking up has been reinstated), only to find that his minibus was full and I'd have to wait for him to come back. I wandered back inside to pick up some milk for Sigrún and then waited outside for ages. Eventually after about 20 minutes a different guy returned and I felt a bit pissed off that my bag went in to the back first, thinking that I'd get it out last and be at the back of the queue at the car rental desk. As it was, when we got there I rushed out, some others were getting their bags out so I was able to grab mine and get to the front of the queue. I did the paperwork and gave the guy a tip on a fish and chip restaurant in London as he was planning to visit next Feb. I got an Opel Mokka - a small 4WD that I hadn't come across before - and it was a lovely car to drive. It was automatic, which meant a bit less fun to drive, but a lot easier. And most importantly, the stereo worked properly with my little old nano.

The drive to Álftanes was horrible. By the time I left the Pro-Car place it was just before 1am (2am UK time) and I was totally exhausted; driving in the dark along a dreary road in the drizzle was unpleasant. I was struggling to keep myself awake, counting down the kilometres until I'd be safe. Finally I arrived, without having fallen asleep at the wheel, was greeted by the adorable Jökull and went straight to bed. In the morning after hellos with Sigrún and Johannes they pointed out that all my car windows were open. It was very strange - I'd remembered hearing a whirring sound when I'd locked the car after unloading the night before, but assumed it was just the mirrors moving inwards. But no, it had obviously been the windows all winding down. Fortunately the drizzle had stopped so the car wasn't even damp. And even more fortunately no-one had reached in to remove the Garun! It was very odd, and I was certainly very careful that it didn't happen again on the rest of the trip, given that I kept a few valuables in the car.

I had breakfast with the family and had a quick catch-up before Johannes took the kids off to school and Sigrún went off to work. And then I set off. My day's agenda was to drive up to Stykkishólmur from where I was taking the ferry across Breiðafjörður to Brjanslækur, before driving the last 55km to Patreksfjörður to sleep for the next couple of nights. First stop was a trip to the Hagkaup supermarket to stock up on a few essentials for the week - the usual packed lunch stuff, a bit of fruit and juice, and some chocolate licorice to nibble on in the car.

My trips to Iceland now have to involve a trip to my favourite jewellers, Orr, in downtown Reykjavík, and I'd worked out that I just had time if I got there when it opened at 10am and left by 10.45am. I managed to navigate my way into town (with free roaming now, I had access to data on my iPhone which was helpful for navigating) and parked around the corner from the shop. I arrived at 10am on the dot and it wasn't yet open, but it gave me a chance to have a good look at all the rings in the window. Eventually the lovely Heiða arrived and I began my search for my new little treat (a recent tax rebate helped). I'd had my mind on some earrings that I'd seen before, and ended up with those, a matching neckless and a little silver ring. I cannot help myself there!

A little poorer but happy to have some gorgeous new silver bits I headed back to the car and off towards the Route 1 (having got totally lost again in the one-way system trying to get back on the main road out) and soon I was going round the endless roundabouts near Mosfellsbær before taking the rather scary tunnel under Hvalfjörður - 6km is a long time in a tunnel, but it certainly saves a lot of time. The weather had been clear enough in Rekyjavík but as I drove north I could see some cloud ahead of me. At Borganes I stopped at the Vinbuðin and picked up a couple of singleton beers, and then turned off to cross the eastern side of the Snæfellsness Peninsula to reach Stykkishólmur. The drive wasn't very spectacular until I started climbing across the heath. Unfortunately at that point I hit low cloud and drizzle which became driving rain as I got higher. I'd driven on that road 5 years earlier when it had been under snow - it looked a lot different now, passing little lakes, but I'm sure it would be spectacular with better visibility. It was a relief to start descending and finally come out from under the clouds on the other side, and then I was greeted with a beautiful view north down to the fjord ahead, with a rainbow ahead of me. I parked up at a viewpoint to take my first photos of the trip. I was a little surprised as I got out of the car by the wind - it was ferocious (and typically Icelandic!). I wandered down the hill a little and took a few shots of the rainbow, which intensified as I was there. A nice little display for me. Who doesn't love a good rainbow? I went back to the car to put on the wide-angle lens to capture the whole thing, and also put on my rain jacket - the wind was obscene and cold!

I was glad for the respite when I got back in the car and continued down the road towards the port. I was okay for time, so didn't have to rush, but I did want to visit a little restaurant I'd been to in the winter trip in 2012 that I'd remembered being lovely. I got to the main road heading east-west along the northern coast of the peninsula and took the right turn. As I drove along the road I looked back south over the storm that I passed through - the clouds were just spectacular, so I pulled over again at a turn-out to take a few more shots. Fortunately the wind down here was pretty gentle. I hadn't had a chance to clean my sensor yet, so I knew that any photographs today would require a lot of post-processing to remove the stubborn dust spots, but I still took loads anyway! It was quite magnificent. Had I not had a ferry to catch I probably would've taken more shots, going for a little hike with the tripod. I definitely spotted at least one troll in the hillside beyond...

I tore myself away and took the turn-off up to Stykkishólmur, the weird church visible me in the distance, stopping one more time to photograph the clouds over the hills behind me.

I filled the car up as I arrived in town - not risking having petrol shortages after an incident a few trips ago, and afterwards I soon found the little café in town - Narfeyrarstofa, parked outside, and headed in for a bowl of delicious fish soup. It was beautifully presented, with tasty bread on the side and a dish with different salts (seems to be a thing in Iceland these days).

* iPhoneSE shot

After a quick chat with the lovely friendly owner, telling her that I'd remembered it from my last visit, I drove down to the port and parked the Mokka at the end of the queue for the ferry. I got out and climbed onto the wall to get a few shots of the wonderful, colourful basalt columns that surround the port.

Cars started revving their engines and soon I was back in the car driving onto the Baldur ferry. As we departed I put on the hired Zeiss 100mm lens to give it a test run - quite challenging using a manual-focus prime lens. On the hill above the basalt column cliff a few people were having a little hike. The town looked pretty, with the backdrop of mountains and the amazing clouds still hanging low over the hilltops.

I soon changed lenses to the telephoto zoom as I couldn't capture much from the ferry at 100mm. It was a lovely calm day - thankfully, given how prone I am to seasickness. I spent most of the journey on the deck, enjoying the sunshine (left the sunglasses in the car, so spent most of the journey squinting). The mountains looked lovely backlit by the afternoon sun. There was a pointed mountain to the west that I thought might be the much-photographed Kirkjufell, but looking on a map now I think it was Lambahnúkur.

As we sailed along I played around with long exposures, trying to get some slowed down wave action; the light wasn't great, and I didn't have a tripod or filters, so it was a question of putting the ISO to its lowest (50) and the aperture to its highest (32 on my telephoto lens). When I processed the images I realised that I had at least 50 dust spots on the sensor (the clean was long overdue), which obviously showed up more using the high apertures.

After about an hour and a half (at 4.30pm) we arrived at Flatey. During the summer it's possible to disembark, have a look around the little flat island, and then catch a later ferry to continue your journey. From the beginning of September it is the shoulder season so the ferries go down to once a day, and the Flatey stop is just for some deliveries to be offloaded. It took about an hour, with a few bits and pieces (including wooden house frames) being winched onto the dock. An enthusiastic dog paced around, as if trying to help with the operation.

We set off again and it became a bit cooler as the sun began disappearing behind hazy clouds. I still spent most of my time on the deck, but occasionally needed to retreat to the warm cabin.

It wasn't long until the first flat-topped mountains on the southern side of the Westfjords came into view. I was very excited. This was my 13th trip to Iceland, but my first to this region, having always put it off as I visited at the wrong time of year. It's still accessible in September, although the first snows can come at any time during the month on the high passes, limiting access. I took my first shot of the area with cloud-topped mountaintops, the first of many similar shots over the following few days.

As we neared land the cloud and wind grew, and it became far colder, the sun making only the odd brief appearance. To the east I noticed some layers of chunky lenticular clouds, but all around the clouds were increasing and menacing.

On one little trip outside to check the view I stumbled a little and banged my leg on a buckle on one of the outside storage boxes - resulting in an enormous bruise that is still visible two weeks later!

By the time we got closer to the port I had to stay inside as it was freezing. I chatted to some people from Seattle, before heading back out to take a last few shots before the ship arrived in Brjanslækur. As we docked I stayed upstairs with a few others, missing the instruction to return to the cars. Suddenly I saw cars driving off, an employee came and shouted for us to get to our cars, so I ran down to mine and squeezed into the car and drove off just as the one in front was leaving (before I got shouted at again).

And there I was - finally in the magnificent Vestfirðir! It was cloudy, drizzling slightly, cold and windy - just as I'd imagined it to be, with clouds draped over all the surrounding mountains. The ferry had spent longer at Flatey than I'd hoped and it was already 6.30pm by the time we disembarked. I had hoped to visit a hot pool just north of Flókalundur (the town a few kilometres north) but decided I didn't really have time, since I still had about an hour or so to drive to get to my base for the night, the Stekkabol guesthouse at Patreksfjörður. I was quite keen to get there in time for "sunset" and also to find something to eat before everything shut. As I learned on my trip to the north-east the previous September, once the summer is over everything closes earlier (or completely), and I was feeling very hungry.

It was a lovely drive, winding along the coast as I headed west. I pulled over at a parking area to take a couple of photos over a beautiful bay, where an American couple were parked. The man was on the phone to his car rental agency in Reykjavík trying to sort out a tyre issue. They were videographers and had a Suzuki Vitara full of gear and their tyre had got a puncture and the spare was practically bald. They were told to drive to Patreksfjörður where they could get a replacement. He was absolutely livid!

I headed onwards, up the first of many spectacular mountain passes. The road up to Kleifaheiði wasn't too memorable, but the journey down the other side was very impressive, with massive sweeping switchbacks and views down to the Patreksfjörður fjord below. At the top was a strange sculpture (Kleifabui) that's been there since 1947 - no idea what the bit sticking out of it was all about, but apparently it was built after the road was completed using leftover materials. 

At the bottom of the pass I took the road to the north-west which wound itself around the edge of the fjord, with a great view of an incredible yellowy-white sandy beach on the opposite shore. By the time I reached Patreksfjörður it was almost 7.30pm. It was strange little place, with a couple of parallel streets built up the hillside from the fjord's edge, and a small harbour at the far end of town. I drove through and found a little spot from where I took a few shots of the hills on the other side. The telephoto was struggling in the light to focus (as was I, without my reading glasses!), so I gave up pretty quickly.

I drove back through the town, not quite sure how to get up to my guesthouse, as there weren't many roads connecting the different levels. Eventually I figured it out, checked in, and wandered down the road past a pretty church to the one restaurant that was still open for the season, Stúkúhusið. I passed

the American couple, who'd got the replacement tyre (at a cost of about $200), hoping that they'd be able to recoup it from the rental company. He was still clearly very pissed off. I ate the fish of the day (divine chunks of cod with a creamy pistachio topping), managed to drink about a litre of water, and then wandered back home - it's always a bit odd eating alone.

* iPhoneSE shot

* iPhoneSE shot

The forecast for the following day - which I was planning to spend exploring the area, including the Látrabjarg cliffs and Rauðasandur beach - was for rain until at least midday, but possibly all day. I set my alarm in time to get breakfast, but planned to spend the morning cleaning the sensor and looking at the previous day's photos. I did a bit of a review in my room, drank one of my cold beers, chatted briefly to hubby on Facetime and then went to bed, feeling a little exhausted and headachey, but very glad that I'd decided to take the ferry and saved myself a few hours of driving, and also very glad to finally have made it up to the Westfjords. I was very excited to be spending the next few days exploring.

Click here for Day 2 - Exploring the Látrabjarg Peninsula