Iceland #13 - Day 7: Hiking to Glymur

One of the wonderful things about returning to a country over and over is discovering new things each time, as well as re-visiting a few known gems. In the winter the options are limited, as roads are closed due to snow, but in late summer/early autumn most of the roads are still passable and therefore new destinations await!

My friend Mandy arrived the day before another friend, Mav, so we had the day to ourselves to explore. I googled "day-trips from Reykjavík" and found the usual golden circle destinations, but then found a couple of waterfalls that I'd heard of but didn't know much about, as they're out-of-bounds during the winter. The first was Háifoss, right up at the far side of the golden circle (which we were visiting the following days anyway) and the other that got my interest was Glymur, previously Iceland's tallest waterfall (until it was discovered that another had a slightly longer drop). It's pretty easy to get to, sitting up a valley at the end of Hvalfjörður. I must have driven past the turn-off on my first solo Icelandic trip, as I'd driven around the fjord, but the road up to the waterfall would have been closed anyway. The trip involves quite a steep climb up the side of a canyon, but I decided it would make the perfect day-trip for us (unless it was pissing with rain, which it wasn't).

We woke up at around 8.30am and had a good breakfast downstairs, before heading off towards the waterfall. I managed to take a wrong turn to get on to the Route 1, but it didn't matter too much and soon we were back on the road heading north, passing those endless Mosfellsbær roundabouts again. We stopped at the café at the trailhead to Eskja to use the loo. It was for customers only so we got a muffin to take on our hike and Mandy had a horribly-disappointing cup of expensive coffee out of a machine (not a proper coffee-maker!). We took the turn-off to take the road around the south side of the fjord. It's a lovely drive, past farmland and small waterfalls. We stopped at some shallow falls, Laxa i Kjos, and took a couple of photos each, the sun coming out briefly for us (I didn't bother with the tripod, but it would be a nice spot for some smooth water longer exposure shots).

We drove on, passing the small waterfall that I'd stopped at on my first solo trip - Fossárrétt. It was interesting that although it's not a particularly spectacular waterfall, since my previous visit in 2012 a car-park had been built just near-by - obviously the local tourist board thought it worth people stopping at. I'd been practising my first long-exposure shots with waterfalls on that trip!

We soon reached the turn-off to Glymur, and finished the last few miles of the drive. The car-park was packed, so we knew we wouldn't be alone on the hike. We got ourselves ready and set off, with the sun coming and going behind big clouds. At least it wasn't raining (we might not have done it had it been). The path meandered around, climbing a little. I saw the odd remaining lupin - it must look so glorious when they're all out. We didn't stop until we reached the caves that you have to climb through to continue (sounds worse than it is - anyone could hike this bit easily). I finally got my camera out and took a couple of shots of Mandy at the entrance to the cave. Always a good challenge to take photos in caves - super-bright outside and super-dark inside...

The next stop after the cave was the first river crossing (there's actually only this one if you go up and back on this route, but another, bigger one if you decided to come down on the other side). People were stopped at the edge of the river taking off shoes and socks. The crossing consisted of hopping over a couple of rocks which had water flowing over them (but not deep), followed by a section along a slightly wet log over a deeper bit; the whole way across was a metal rope to hold onto.

We sat down and took off our shoes and socks, tied the shoes around the backpack straps, tucked the socks securely into the shoes, rolled up our trousers, and I put the camera away in a plastic bag inside my backpack, in case of disaster. There was actually a bit of a queue, so we waited while a few people went ahead - it was definitely a on-at-a-time crossing. Mandy went first and I took a few iPhone pictures - I had to get some record!

It was my turn next and the first part was easy, although the water was jolly cold. I got onto the first section of the log and it was extremely slippery and I slipped a little - thank god for the wire! The dry bit was fine, but I did feel a little relieved to reach the other side. We dried our feet with our socks and then put them and the shoes back on again and continued up into the canyon. The trail became steeper, and from time-to-time there were sections with wire ropes to help you. Eventually we came to the first of the viewpoints of the magnificent waterfall. The canyon was lush and green and the waterfall was just visible in the distance. I set the tripod up and took a few shots. It was a long way down!

We carried on - still having a long way up to go. We could see the tiny silhouettes of people at the top of the falls. The view back down to the valley behind us was also lovely.

The viewing areas were welcome stopping places, as the climb was relentless.

As we got closer to the top the falls came more into view, and we could see how there were two separate sections - a gently fall over sleek rocks, and a section that fell directly into the abyss below. We also noticed a couple of sheep snuggled together on one of the steep grassy slopes at the foot of a cliff - god knows how they got there! Some of the cliffs had intensely orange rocks, which contrasted against the deep greens of the canyon sides.

Finally we reached the top, which felt like quite an achievement, given how steep it was. We then had to decide whether to try to cross the river a bit upstream of the falls or return the same way. We decided to try the other side - for something different - and so continued on the path until we saw some people on the far bank putting their shoes back on. That must be a place to cross, we thought. We got ourselves ready again - camera away, shoes tied around backpack straps, and watched a couple of other women attempt to cross. The river is very wide above the falls, but although it looked quite shallow, crossing was more challenging than first appeared. The women went out for a good ten metres before finding a too-deep bit and turned back. A few other pairs and groups arrived and we all kind of surveyed the river, unsure what to do. Eventually the same women tried a bit further up the river, along the top of a faster-flowing bit, and they managed to find a reasonable path across. The sun even came out as we crossed, which made the cold a little less unbearable briefly.

It was quite exhilarating, trying hard not to fall, arms flailing to keep one's balance. A whole group of us followed the woman's path. The rocks were either smooth but covered in slippery weeds, or sharp and pointy, so the whole thing was quite a challenge. We were very pleased and relieved to get to the other side, but it was very good fun. Again we dried our frozen feet with socks and dressed again and continued on. The view above the fall gave nothing away about the drop beyond the edge. The sun disappeared and dark clouds grew on the horizon; some rain was also visible in the distance.

We carried on down, choosing the shorter but steeper path that hugs the side of the canyon (a less steep path takes you down, away from the canyon). The rain in the distance became more prominent.

There were more viewpoints, with the falls more visible, so we stopped for a few photos, including a couple of obligatory selfies.

*iPhoneSE shot

*iPhoneSE shot

The path down wasn't as quick or easy as we'd hoped, and we ended up in trails going through birch trees. I certainly didn't want to get stuck in a bloody birch forest again, after the previous day's escapade! Eventually we left the trees and rejoined the path we'd started on before entering the cave. It started to rain slightly so the waterproof jackets came out briefly.

Soon we were down and back at the car, and I realised that I no longer had my lovely sunglasses with me - I remembered putting them on the ground at some point and obviously had failed to pick them up again. Very annoying, but if that was the worst disaster of the holiday it wasn't too bad. We drove back towards the road along the fjord, running a bit later than we'd hoped. We still had to drive back, shower and change, before then meeting up with some friends of Mandy's in a bar near where we were staying in downtown Reykjavík at 7pm. We had just over an hour's drive ahead, but obviously had to pull over when we saw the most intense rainbow across the fjord. It was only a small amount but very bright, with impressive clouds above.

The journey back into Reykjavík was an easy one, and Mandy helped me navigate, so we were able to arrive at the apartment without a hitch. We were staying just down from the Hallgrimskirkja, and managed to find a parking spot right outside. We had been booked into a different apartment, but Booking.com had cancelled it the previous week and suggested this one - Mengi. It was a lovely little place, and brilliantly located.

We went out and met up with Mandy's friends - Ed and Paul - in Kaffibarinn - a coffee shop that turned into a bar at night. We had a couple of drinks there before heading down to the Kex Hostel along the waterfront for some more drinks, some delicious fish, and meeting some of Ed and Paul's friends. There are certainly lots of expats living in the city, but since everyone speaks English they hung out with locals too, not just other expats. Last stop was a couple of drinks at the wonderful Mikkeller Bar that I'd visited the previous year with the boys.

Mav, meanwhile, had landed, and was getting the bus into the city, with a minibus to bring her to the apartment (or nearby). It seemed to be taking forever, and she didn't arrive until 1.30am. Mandy and I sat across from the church with a couple of glasses of vodka that we'd brought out from the apartment. I noticed a bus arriving on the far side of the church and headed over. Mav was thankfully on that one, and we walked back to the apartment, had a quick drink before bed, before turning in for the night at 2.30am - another rather late one, especially considering how much I had planned for the following day!

Click here for my blog from Day 6 - Driving back to Kéflavíjk
Click here for my blog from Day 8 - A Little Bit of Golden Circle, South Coast, Sunset & Northern Lights

Iceland #13 - Day 6: Driving back to Keflavík

My introduction to the wonderful remote Westfjords was coming to an end, and today I had to drive all the way back down to the south-west, as far as Keflavík. There the next part of my adventure would begin - the weekend playing tour-guide with friends, again. In my little planning spreadsheet (I have one for every trip with all sorts of details on accommodation, things to see, prices, sunrise/sunset times and places, etc...) all I had planned for the day was "drive straight back to Keflavík without stopping!" As it was, time wouldn't be that rushed, as it's only a 350km or so drive and my friend wasn't arriving until the last plane, so I could actually get to the hotel at midnight, for all it mattered. Still quite a lot of driving though.

I did, however, have a couple of things I wanted to do along the way. One was to take the tour of the herring factory in Djúpavík, and the other was to visit a rather obscure and little-known peninsula to see some basalt columns a bit further south. The light was quite nice when I got up at around 8am so I took a couple of lazy shots from my window, before having the same Skyr and granola breakfast as the previous day (blueberry flavour this time, which I can now buy in my local Waitrose back home, so not quite as special!).

I showered, packed up my stuff (always hate that part) and then asked at reception about the tours. It was run by the hotel, so added to the bill, which made things easier. The tour started at 10am, and was being given by Sarah, the young American woman I'd chatter to the previous night. I had a little wander around the outside of the factory before meeting up with a small group for the tour.

We were led inside and Sarah locked us in, turned on the lights and then gave us a bit of historic information about the place. We wandered through each room, looking at pictures, rusting pieces of machinery, crumbling plaster, algae-covered walls and salt stalactites.

The factory had been built in 1934 to take advantage of the massive herring population and deep port there (that's what Djúpavík means), in order to produce herring oil and herring meal. The women worked outside cleaning the herrings on long conveyor belts, and the men worked inside. There are various ovens and storage containers in various stages of disrepair from the production days, which ended in 1954, when herring stocks were depleted. The factory wasn't stripped, as the owner had hoped to return when the fish did. They didn't, and he didn't, and instead it was sold to the current owners, who opened the hotel in 1985 in the old women's quarters. It was fascinating to think of all of these young Icelanders up in this remote part of the world, working in the harsh weather day in, day out.

Sarah told us that Sigur Rós had also played there, in one of the large storage rooms at the back, on the same tour as when they'd played at Selárdalur. Another epic location, which would have been incredible to experience.

The last place on the tour was the longest room I think I've ever been in - which was my favourite. I'd just missed their annual art exhibition, but a few photographs still hung on the walls of this room, and a sofa sat near one end, for people to rest and take in the art. At one end there was some graffiti in some wood - amazing to think that workers had signed their names there almost 70 years earlier. Sometimes the hotel gets elderly visitors from people who'd worked there themselves, or were the children of those who had - it had definitely been quite a place in its heyday.

That was the end of the tour, and I was briefly disappointed as we hadn't been inside the oil tank, which I'd seen pictures of, that looked extremely cool. Sarah said that we could visit that on our own, though, and showed us to the entrance. I was quite relieved!

We all looked at each other and laughed, as we realised that we had to climb through a rusty hole to get in! The others in the group all managed to climb in, and I waited until they'd gone until I attempted it, laden with my tripod and camera gear. The hole was probably about 70cm diameter, so plenty of room, but also about 50 cm long, so it was quite a feat to climb through! I poked the tripod through first and then climbed through. Once inside it was just incredible, and I was glad I had it to myself. I wandered around the outside of the outermost copper coil and stopped to take a few different shots. It was one of my favourite sights in the Westfjords - I could've spent all day there! Sarah thought that Sigur Rós had also played there, and I found evidence on YouTube - I wondered if they climbed through the hole or up the metal footholds that led to a hole in the top that provided the light...

I dragged myself away - the massive drive awaiting me - stopping to marvel at the enormous structure.

Before I left I wanted to get a photo of the lovely, soft, affectionate Freya, who made me miss my little sick Henry back at home. She wasn't really playing ball, avoiding the camera, as often dogs do! 

I got into the car, but realised that she was sitting right in front, so I had to get out to try to shoo her away. As I did so I noticed her crouch suddenly beside my passenger door, and then she suddenly darted forward and pounced as a car came past. The driver seemed a bit shocked, but I'd seen it before on my second ever trip to Iceland. Now it just seems like normal Icelandic sheepdog behaviour. I got a quick shot of Soley, who just stood around, not chasing cars.

I was sad to leave little Djúpavík - I was rather smitten with the hotel, its inhabitants and its surrounds.

iPhoneSE shot

It was already midday - so much for the plan to make a swift journey back to the airport. The weather had brightened up a little, with tiny glimpses of blue sky as I embarked on my long drive south. First stop was the beautiful mountain pass, where I stopped to capture some beautiful saxifrage (I think) flowers overlooking the Veiðileysa fjord below.

The sun came out a little later on, and I stopped to capture a few lovely things: a house that I could see myself enjoying, a pretty waterfall, some finger-like clouds.

Eventually I passed the turn-off to Drangsnes, from where I'd come, and was on a newly-surfaced road to cut across the peninsula. It was a lovely road, and soon I came out to the main road, where there were no signs or markings - no wonder I'd missed the turn-off on the way!

Next stop was to get some petrol and clean the car at Hólmavik. Again, quite an effort to scrub away at the few days of dirt. I took a couple of before and after photos on the iPhone. I had a visible number plate again!

* iPhoneSE shot

*iPhoneSE shot

Next stop was the obligatory grill bar burger for lunch - what I would have eaten had I made the detour on the way. It wasn't as good as the one at Skaftafell, but not bad.

iPhoneSE shot

I didn't drive into town as I wanted to head on, but I'm not sure there's a great deal there (apart from the Icelandic Sorcery & Witchcraft Museum, which probably would've been quite good - but I'd already done one museum that day). The road soon left the coastline and headed across a low pass, coming down the other side to views south towards the last peninsula of the Westfjords before you reach Búðardalur. The area was mostly farmland, with huge numbers of plastic-wrapped hay-bales visible everywhere I looked. Soon I came to a right-hand turn that would take me back to Patreksfjörður if I continued. Instead I drove for about 12km, weird-shaped mountains surrounding me, before I came to a left-hand turn taking me onto the Borgarland peninsula, my next destination. The road wound around through more farmland until eventually I came to the end and had to park. From there, it was a thirty or so minute walk along mainly beach to reach Bjartmarsstein, a massive volcanic plug sitting at the end of the peninsula, covered in basalt columns! I passed a couple of rather macabre fallen scarecrows - dressed in astronauts outfits and wellies, the torn material blowing around in the wind.

*iPhoneSE shot

Before reaching the main plug I passed smaller basalt column walls along the beach. The surrounding scenery was also stunning, with some rhyolitic hillsides in the distance. If only that sun would stay out! The beach was littered with seaweed, but thankfully not the nasty flies that I'd encountered the previous day.

Eventually I turned around a little headland to finally see the main attraction - Bjartmarsstein, which I'd only discovered by googling basalt columns in the area (thanks to Guide to Iceland!) and fortunately it wasn't far out of my way. The light was pretty poor, but I could still see the reddish basalt columns lining the base of the big rock, like a pleated skirt.

I hurried along the beach, only stopping to take a photo of a rather sad dead sheep (sorry!), caught in the seaweed (I hope it didn't meet its death being tangled up in it).

I spent the next half hour at the foot of the cliff, walking around the base of it, clambering over some columns as the beach disappeared on the far side. I loved the patterns and shapes, the swirling and curves, the cracks and colours, the steps and lines. Hence so many photos...

By the time I left the rock it was already 4pm - I don't really know where the day had gone! I still had to get back to the car and drive a long way.

On my way back I crossed the first beach, but then decided to try to cut off some of the other ones and head across the headlands, following sheep trails. This was going well until I suddenly found myself in a mini birch tree forest. I remembered an old Icelandic joke: "What do you do if you get lost in an Icelandic forest? Stand up!" Well, I was standing but still most definitely lost! I had to trample over the low branches, hoping to find a proper sheep trail. Instead of this, however, I realised that I was heading downhill and the trees were getting taller. At one point I fell backwards and was lying on the top of the trees, like an upturned beetle. It was quite funny, but also pretty frustrating, as I just couldn't find my way out. Eventually I did, but I must've been lost for a good 10 minutes before I reached the safety of grassland again! The rest of the journey back to the car was uneventful, but for a trio of sinister-looking sheep checking me out.

As I left a few sheep ran in front of the car - galloping along the track instead of just turning off it. The sun was coming out patchily over the surrounding landscape. I stopped a few times before re-joining the main road.

I didn't stop for a while after that, continuing on through Buðardalur, and reaching the junction with the turn-off to Stykkishólmur, which I'd driven on back in 2014 (that road is magnificent!). I carried on south and only stopped when I passed an impressive pointy mountain, just before rejoining the ring road (it's called Baula).

From there on I stopped at Borganes to use a loo, and text Mandy to see how her journey was going (she was tucking into the famed fish 'n' chips at the Perfectionist at T2 Heathrow), before continuing on down to the tunnel. The light was getting lovely, so I took a sneaky shot from the car as I headed south.

*iPhoneSE shot

I drove down and up again through the scary tunnel, past Eskja, across the endless roundabouts of Mosfellsbaer, then crossed the outskirts of Reykjavik before heading on to Keflavík. I didn't even pop into the city to visit Orr again (well, it was actually way past closing time and I'd be back again a couple of days later with the girls)! I drove on past the turn-off to the hotel at Ásbrú, as sunset was approaching and there was a chance of some colour, so I thought I'd go on to Gardur. I was extremely disappointed when I got there to find it absolutely packed, as well as having a new hotel built just along from the lighthouses. I took a shot of the end lighthouse only to be shouted at by another photographer that I was in their shot. There's no way you can expect to get no people in wide-angle long exposures in busy spots!

I hid from him behind the far lighthouse and took some shots of the sky as it turned pink - the closest I'd got to a sunset in a week. I could see the spine of the whole of the Snæfellsnes Peninsula to the north.

I decided to eat at the restaurant in Keflavík that I'd visited a few years earlier, so drove back there as the sky darkened. As I drove I suddenly noticed the incredible sight of an enormous orange moon rising above the horizon. There wasn't anywhere to stop, so I drove on and parked near the shore in the town. Unfortunately by that point the moon had risen enough to be behind some low clouds. I waited a little while until it peaked out again, only getting a portion of it. The reflections on the bay below were lovely.

I ate in Kaffe Duus, ordering a seafood salad. It was quite cheap, and the plate came piled with warm chunks of fish and prawns on a bed of salad (including tortilla chips - what's that all about?!). It tasted a bit fishy and I felt a little sick afterwards! I drove to the hotel, which is in Ásbrú - a massive area just next to the airport that used to be a US Naval air station until 2006, and which has been turned into a university campus, as well as hosting some large new hotels to cope with the increase of overnight visitors. I was staying in Bed & Breakfast Keflavik, and my room was absolutely enormous, with two single beds at either side - it was big enough for about four single beds.

Mandy arrived quite late - unfortunately the hotel's shuttle only left every 40 minutes, and Mandy's plane was late arriving, and then she just missed the 12.20am shuttle and had to wait ages for the next one, which itself left late. I could've gone to pick her up, but by the time I would have driven there and parked, it didn't seem worth it. She finally arrived, and I greeted her at reception where there was a massive queue of people checking in. We stayed up talking for a while, and enjoyed a little of the vodka she'd brought with her. We didn't get to sleep until after 3am, which wasn't ideal given that we had a big day hike ahead of us in the morning!


Click here for the blog from Day 5 - Exploring Árneshreppur
Click here for the blog from Day 7 - Hiking to Glymur