Iceland #10 - Day 1: Playing Tour Guide on the Reykjanes Peninsula

My tenth trip to Iceland was slightly different from my usual trips - I was actually going with other people! Having seen endless of my photos of the place, my friends Scott and Bryon were keen to visit, so I managed to organise a trip combining three days with them (and my hubby Murray) doing the usual tourist stuff - and a bit more - before I headed off east to do photography stuff on my own. Being tour guide put a little pressure on me, and I desperately wanted everything to go well, a lot of which was dependent on the weather. The forecast was good, as was the outlook for the northern lights, but I know better than to trust either...

We flew in late on a Wednesday night. I managed to see some northern lights from my spot in the middle of the plane, but the boys sat behind and the light from the wing made it harder to see. I sat next to a lovely couple and gave them some recommendations for their trip. We stayed at the airport hotel, meaning that a trip to the Blue Lagoon the following day was easy. We had a couple of Icelandic beers in our room before a relatively early night.

First stop the next day was a tour around the Reykjanes Peninsula - unfortunately I'd booked tickets to the Blue Lagoon too late to get morning tickets, and had booked for 1pm, so decided on a drive around the Peninsula to kill some time (and there's some nice scenery to see). The weather was glorious as I picked up the rental car (a Suzuki Vitara again) from Procar and set off towards Garður to show the boys the cool lighthouses. The light was wonderful intermittently, as the sun came out and disappeared again. As soon as we set off Murray checked out the car's music equipment and we ascertained that there was nowhere for me to plug in my iPod. I felt panicky and couldn't imagine another Icelandic road-trip without my own music. After having had one such trip, desperately searching for music that wasn't Katy Perry or Adele (sorry, I just don't like her!), or crackly Icelandic talking on Bygljan, I knew I couldn't bear another. After visiting the lighthouses I stopped back at the car-hire place, explained that I couldn't possibly survive a week on my own without my own music and they gladly swapped the car for another Vitara (a later model and the same type as the previous one I'd hired from them, with a reversing camera and most importantly a USB port for my iPod). I'd be able to sing along (and cry) to David Bowie songs on my own after all.

Panic out of the way, we headed along the road towards Reykjavík, turning off south after a while towards Kleifarvatn. The tarmac road ran out and the slightly-potholed gravelled surface soon became snowy as we headed uphill towards the lake. The sun was intense, reflecting on the snow and ice making visibility a little challenging from time to time (actually I couldn't see a thing!) - especially when approaching a blindhæd (blind rise). We arrived at an overlook above the lake, which was completely frozen, and got out to take a few photos. Iceland looked lovely: the sun was shining, it wasn't that cold and there was no wind. The boys were impressed; it was going well.

We continued on and I pulled in at Seltún, which I'd visited a few years earlier on a miserably grey day and hadn't been massively impressed with. It was the same as I'd remembered, but looked better with a bit of snow and sunshine, which was becoming more hazy as the morning went on. Pools bubbled away and steam hissed or seeped out of yellow and orange crusty, sulphurous vents.

Time was ticking on and so we headed on south and drove west along the coast for a while along an empty stretch of road, before heading north again at Grindavík. The Blue Lagoon (Bláa lónið) was a short drive outside the town, along a road winding through the lava field. The steam from the plant was hidden by a large hill, but eventually it loomed into view, together with the cranes above the lagoon, as they're building a new hotel there. The car-park was packed, as expected, and we walked along a lava-sided pathway before arriving at the entrance, where we joined the end of a massive queue. It moved pretty quickly and we were soon at the counter, getting a wristband that acted as a locker key and tab for any expenditure while we were there (eg. drinks at the bar). We went off to our separate changing rooms, figured out how to use the lockers, showered (I'd read that you had to shower nude before entering the lagoon, but there's not exactly anyone there making you do so, and they do have private shower cubicles for the shy), and then headed out in the freezing cold air before plunging into the steamy water. As instructed I'd lathered my hair with conditioner and had it up in a clip - apparently if it touches the water and isn't conditioned it ends up like straw; my hair is already pretty straw-like, so I didn't need it to get any worse.

The lagoon was pretty packed, but not horribly so. I'd visited on my first trip to Iceland back in October 2002 with a friend and we'd more-or-less had the place almost to ourselves (there weren't many off-season visitors to Iceland back in 2002, unlike today...). We'd visited on a cold, wet, stormy night, but I remembered how lovely it was once you were in, as it was today.

We waded through the warm green water (it wasn't blue without sun, which was now hidden behind overcast clouds), steam blowing across the surface, and headed to the face mask bar. Occasionally we would walk through a hot patch and someone would make a joke about it being where someone had just peed. Nice! An English guy was working there, advising us on how long to leave the white cleansing mask on for (10 minutes); the hard white sludge was kept in buckets and you could apply it liberally. We then waded across to the drinks bar, on the other side of the lagoon, and got our first drink (included in the €55 package) - I had a miniature bottle of Prosecco, the boys had pints of Gull lager. It was a strange experience, to be standing in lovely warm water, holding plastic glasses of booze, faces covered with a white mask of sulphurous mud (or whatever it is). I don't think there had been an outdoor bar the previous time I'd visited.

We wandered around a bit, washed off the first mask, then returned to get the green moisturising mask (this was kept behind the counter and you were only given a small amount). Once it was ready to wash off, 15 minutes later, we went into the steam room for a short while. I always get really bored in steam rooms or saunas and only lasted about 5 minutes, heading back into the warm water with Bryon. The others eventually came out and we headed back to the bar. As I was driving later I then had a delicious blueberry Skyr smoothie; the boys had another weak beer. We then headed away from the crowds, under one of the bridges (there was a security guard in hi-viz jacket on the top of each bridge) to an area with almost no-one. It actually felt quite peaceful and remote. Our fingers all resembled alien beings by now - wrinkled beyond recognition.

Eventually we headed inside to shower (rinsing out the conditioner to find my hair hadn't been ruined, thankfully), and got dressed (I went into the wrong changing-room and couldn't get my bearings - had to go upstairs to find my locker). We then sat and had a sandwich in the café at the side of the lagoon (indoors) and relaxed for a while. We took our cameras outside to capture a few shots of the place. I bumped into the couple from the plane - it's a small tourist circuit, obviously. Then we headed off towards Álftanes, where Sigrún and Johannes were expecting us for coffee and waffles at 5pm. It hadn't been a cheap way to spend an afternoon, but we all thoroughly enjoyed our visit - you can't really visit Iceland without going there.

We arrived in Álftanes a little early, and Sigrún was busy in the kitchen glazing a banana cake and finishing off the waffle mixture. She'd put on a massive spread for us, and it was great for the boys to see inside an Icelandic family home (especially one with such delicious treats and coffee on offer!). Murray and I unpacked the goodies we'd ordered on Amazon at half the price they would've paid for the same things in Iceland, and I picked up their tripod, Aeropress and massive mug, which I'd also borrowed on the previous trip. I was very exctied to meet a new addition to their family - an absolutely adorable 4-month-old grey stripey kitten, Jökull (which means glacier). I'm not sure I've ever been so smitten by a cat or kitten before. He was so affectionate and beautiful and won everyone's hearts by curling up in an open drawer of tea-towels. Their daughter was clearly also smitten too.

Once we were totally stuffed we headed off into the centre of Reykjavík, where I'd booked us a 2-bed apartment near the centre of the town. We stopped off for me to do my "weekly shop" for my trip after they had gone, at a nearby Hagkaup store. We arrived easily, but then got caught in the one-way system - if you've ever driven in central Reykjavík you'll know that this isn't an easy predicament to find yourself in. We'd found the apartment but couldn't find anywhere to park, so wanted to just drive round the block to get back to the front of the building. This was easier said than done, and it took us about ten minutes to get back there. In the end, we got back and then had to drive round to another street behind the house that we'd passed at least twice, where we were able to park off-road in a private parking space and unload the car. The Ambassade Apartments were in an old traditional Icelandic building, and had recently been converted into apartments, and were stunning. The man who managed the property was extremely friendly and showed us around the well-equipped and beautifully decorated place. The only downside was that there was a shelving unit holding the TV and some glasses that had a couple of sharp corners protruding - it was only a matter of time before one of us bashed into them...

Sigrún had recommended (and booked) a restaurant for us in the city centre (Grillmarkaðurinn) and we had a couple of drinks at home before heading down there (in spite of the apartment appearing to have everything, we couldn't find any water glasses - despite each of us looking through every single cupboard (and the dishwasher, the oven, the microwave, etc.) three times each! - beer was drunk out of wine glasses, which were easy to find). The restaurant was an excellent recommendation - both a very cool space and delicious food. Between us we ordered a couple of meat platters, a fish platter and Scott ordered the langoustine tails, which quite frankly were one of the most delicious things any of us had ever eaten! The food was washed down by a couple of Borg beers (I was in heaven).

After dinner we headed to the Micro Bar, one of the three recommended craft beer bars. We met a rather drunk young Scottish lad called Jimmy who was on holiday with his parents and was rather smitten with Murray's mysterious accent. I tried a couple of delicious porters and stouts which were on tap (my favourite tipple at the moment), before we headed to the Skuli bar, which had opened recently, with rave reviews. It was a Thursday night and it closed at 11pm, just as we arrived, so we continued on the Mikkeller bar, a great little spot spread over the top floor of an old building above a pizza restaurant. They were open a while and we tried a couple more Icelandic beers there before heading home. We had a little nightcap before going to bed, with my suggestion of Jägermeister and milk not going down too well (if you didn't know what it was I think it would have been quite nice). Just before going to sleep I went out of the room to look for a phone charger and was the one to take a big tumble after catching my foot against the protruding corner. Usually I fall over or bash into an iceberg on these trips which results in a bruise or two, but this time I had a small gash on my arm and two large bruises on my knees to show for it - an identified and very annoying drunken injury.

Click here for blog from Day 2: Tour Guide around the Golden Circle

Iceland 2014 - Day 9: Last day around the Reykjanes Peninsula

My exhaustion had got the better of me; no early morning to see the Solfar, but a lie-in instead (a cursory glance out of the window at 7am had showed me clouds anyway). Check-out was irritatingly early (10am) but at least it meant that I was on the road at a reasonable time in order to have a enough time for a leisurely drive out of Reykjavik and around the Reykjanes Peninsula, before getting to the airport to dump the car and check-in.

I headed towards the airport, but turned off towards Kleifarvatn, which I'd driven along in the rain two years earlier, during a rushed journey back to Keflavik. The road was unpaved in places, but it was open and easily drivable. A big-wheeled van ahead of me turned off towards Bláfjöll and I suddenly became worried that the Inside the Volcano tour might now run in early spring after all but I'd failed to check (I checked when I got home - it's still only running from mid-May until September, so I hadn't missed out!). The scenery was not spectacular along the shore of the lake (I missed the peaks, the glaciers and the basalt columns...) but it was a pleasant-enough drive. There were a few spots where I could have stopped for a little dander and a few snaps, but I was becoming increasingly worried about the car not re-starting, so decided not to stop in what was effectively the middle of nowhere.

I passed the sulphurous hillsides of Krýsuvík, but decided to continue onwards, as I'd stopped there in the rain the last time and a high layer of cloud hung above, so the light was pretty poor. I continued driving towards the coast and then turned towards Grindavik, which turned out to be a very uninspiring town, and was probably only in existence because of the nearby geothermal plant (the effluent of which has produced the world-famous Blue Lagoon). I drove through the town, wondering if there would be anything of interest to see. There were a few old houses, and some rusty fishing boats but nothing to get excited about, so I carried on west towards the tip of the peninsula, hoping for some slightly more inspiring scenery.

Ahead of me I could see a few large plumes of steam from a large geothermal plant at Gunnuhver. I'd passed above this lake and steam vents on the approach into Keflavik a few times and again assumed that it was the Blue Lagoon, but this wasn't a place that you could go for a soak and spa treatments. There was a turn-off and a touristy-looking sign, so I headed down the track to a parking area. There were some boardwalks alongside some yellow crusty sulphur vents and steam pouring out across the landscape in front of me (with the large plumes of steam from the vents at the plant in the distance). I had a quick wander around; if I'd had more time I'd have gone further on towards a lighthouse that sat atop a hill, not far from the south-westernmost point of the country.

Instead I continued on around the end of the peninsula, passing a museum on Iceland's geothermal activities; I didn't stop as I wanted to get back to the airport in good time to re-pack my bag (trying to get an enormous tripod into a backpack is challenging!) and driving anywhere always took me longer than planned. As I drove north again I noticed some surf off to the west and saw a couple of cars parked behind some grassy black dunes. I headed down a bumpy road and found myself at a surf beach. A couple of guys donning wetsuits were just getting back to their cars, boards tucked under arms, and two more were swimming out past the surf in the distance, waiting for the right wave. A couple of men played ball with their excited dogs on the wide beach; a pointer bound up to me, stuck its wet nose towards me, and then raced away again as quickly. It wasn't the prettiest of beaches, but it was nice to stumble upon something a bit different.

A few photos later and it was back to the car, a quick stop in Hafnir to photograph some picturesque wooden houses, before returning to the airport.

I was glad to drop off the car, having a good moan at the man about the petrol cap being stuck, the lack of auxillary function through which to listen to an iPod, the battery running out on the remote key and the fact that is was a petrol, not diesel, vehicle (which cost me about £50 more to run during the trip, I reckoned). He did, however, confirm that there was no damage (always good!) and dropped me off at the terminal building (fully loaded my backpack weighed just under 20kg and the day pack about 12kg so walking wouldn't have been a pleasant option). Having odd-shaped hold luggage meant that I didn't have to join the enormous bag-drop queue, giving me more time to shop and eat and marvel at the sculptures. I bought a couple of bottles of local fire-water (a birch-flavoured schnapps and a blueberry liqueur), some chocolate-covered liquorice, and sat in a café eating a fish pie until it was finally time to depart my beloved Iceland.

The plane left on time, thankfully (no waiting around, no cancellation, no excessive drinking, no horrendous hangover...), and I sat next to a lovely equine photographer with whom I spent the next couple of hours discussing our mutual love of the place.

It always saddens me to leave Iceland, as I watch the coastline and the road across the strange black landscape eventually disappear beneath the clouds. I'd had a great trip, having seen the northern lights properly (finally!), having visited a few new places, I'd had no major mishaps (first day hangover aside), the weather had been reasonable (for Iceland), and I was returning with a selection of shots that upon first review I was pretty happy with. I was tired, excited to review the photos properly, but mostly I was really looking forward to getting home to my beloved London and to my boys. And I know I'll be back to Iceland soon (maybe when it's green and covered with wildflowers, one of these days?). Until the next time...

Click here for Day 8 blog

Iceland Highlights 2013 - Day 9: Vík to Keflavik

My last full day in Iceland had sadly come; the plan was to drive at a leisurely pace from Vík to Keflavik, near the airport, where I was spending the night. I woke up at a reasonable time, looked out of the window to see whiteness everywhere and discovered that it had snowed heavily overnight, and was indeed still snowing. I headed into the garden where there were some pretty bare plants covered with snow; the view behind grey and menacing. The snow was pretty deep so again I was glad to have brought wellies. A dog pottered around, occasionally jumping around like a puppy in the fresh snow.

After packing up all my bags and remaining food (I'd given some leftovers to Danielle the previous night) I checked out, cleared the heaps of snow off the car and drove down to the beach for one last photo session. I was the first car to drive along the path to the parking area, but the 4WD handled it fine. The back of the beach was covered in thick snow, but where the water was bringing in waves there was just a light dusting, each wave washing more of the snow away, leaving some interesting patterns.

At the far end of the beach, towards the stacks, I could see what looked like some large black rocks covered in snow at the shoreline. As I approached I realised that they were in actual fact oyster catchers, standing still along the edge of the waves.

 They did shuffle around a bit, and from time to time would fly off, circle over and then land in more-or-less the same place.

The snow continued to fall quite heavily, although the sun was trying to break through and briefly lit up the snow-dusted cliffs above me.

The snow worsened and the cold got the better of me, so I headed back to the car. In the carpark I met the two photographers who I kept bumping into, Jeremy and John, who were sitting enjoying the warmth of their car, waiting out the snow-storm (they might have been some time). A number of cars had now driven to the beach along the tiny track, so the snow was now slushy. I wove my way through the tiny town centre and up the huge hill to take me westwards. The snow-ploughs had moved a lot of snow from the road, but as I got higher the snowfall got heavier and conditions became more hazardous. The snow-ploughs needed to come back and do my side of the road which was completely covered in snow by the time I reached the highest pass. Visibility was also extremely limited, and headlights of an oncoming vehicle could only be seen about twenty metres or so in front; not ideal as I was driving on the clearer left side of the road where I could. As soon as I had gone around the long bend that goes down the hill on the other side the snow began to clear, both in the air and on the ground. By the time I reached the far side of second smaller hill near the turn-off to Dyrhólaey the snow had gone! The weather was still grey and showery, but visibility was improved and the road was clear from any snow or ice.

My next stop was Skógafoss (again). It wasn't too busy upon my arrival, but I knew this wouldn't last for long. I set up my tripod in the river to get a long exposure shot, playng around with my polarising filter so that the stones on the river-bed below were visible.

Soon the hoards arrived, including a couple of parties of English schoolchildren, again. I'm not sure how interested they were, with plenty of them standing around with their backs to the falls. Although it wasn't actually raining, the spray from the falls was quite strong, and the odd wind brought fine droplets over the camera every once in a while, so I had to wipe the filter after every few shots. I watched a woman taking photographs on an iPad, which always makes me grimace just a bit. I chatted to a nice photographer from Ireland, and lent him my polariser so that he could get some clear water shots too.



We stood there for a while, trying to photograph the falls and the people, wiping our lenses every minute or so. My toes were still frozen from standing on the beach in Vík, and standing in the river here hadn't helped, so I had to get back to the car, get the wellies off and try to de-frost my toes. I continued my journey west, barely able to feel my toes, and stopped at Seljalandfoss, which isn't far away. I was amazed at how much of the snow and ice that I'd seen just five days earlier had melted, and it's not as if it had been beautiful warm weather since then. Where it had been impossible to walk to the right of the falls, or behind them just days ago, now this path was almost clear. I hadn't walked behind this falls before, so thought I'd give it a try. I'd seen some lovely wide-angle shots taken from this viewpoint in summer, when the surrounding hills were green, the sky blue and the water volume was delicate. It wasn't quite like that this time, with the grasses mostly brown, the sky grey (but bright) and huge amounts of water pouring down (not delicate, and far too much spray!). I'll just have to go back in late summer...

When I got back to the other side and crossed the small bridge the sun came out - it always surprises me just how quickly the weather can change on this island. I did a couple of my usual self-portraits (10-second timer then running quickly to the focused spot and standing still and trying to look relaxed) as well as noticing how lovely the view was away from the waterfall. Then it was off again for the main stretch of my drive that day.

There's a lot of farmland between Seljalandfoss and Reykjavik, so I wasn't expecting to find much to stop to photograph along the way. I wanted to explore the Reykjanes Peninsula a bit more (I'd driven through the southern part the previous year), so hoped I wouldn't get too side-tracked. Obviously I had to stop from time to time, particularly when I saw some lovely horses along the side of the road; sometimes they can look so sad, as one invariably approaches you to say hello, kept from you by the barbed wire fence.

Not far from Selfoss I passed a sign towards Urriðafoss, a large, shallow waterfall system just off the ringroad that I'd seen - but hadn't stopped in time - along the way. After crossing the bridge I took the left turn and headed towards the falls. The traffic had started to become heavier and I was feeling a bit sleepy, so it was probably sensible to stop anyway. Time had flown by and it was already 4pm. As soon as I turned the engine off I realised I was feeling very drowsy, so wound the chair back and dozed for about ten minutes, coinciding with a quick shower outside. Feeling a little groggy but a bit refreshed I got out and wandered along the bank, clambering over some rocks to get a good viewpoint of the magnificent falls. A sign told me that this waterfall had the highest volume of water in Europe, but I thought this accolade went to Dettifoss (in Northern Iceland, which I'd visited 4 years earlier). It was pretty impressive anyway, and the water was a wonderful milky glacial run-off blue-green.

The drive into Reykjavik wasn't much fun - I couldn't believe how much traffic there was on the road, after five days of seeing very few other cars. As I ascended the other massive bendy hill of the journey (just past Hveragerði) I drove into another snow-storm, again with limited visibility and the snow settling quickly on the road. After a few miles and down the other side it cleared again. I didn't go right into the centre of Reykjavik, but followed signs to the airport. I began to feel pretty dehydrated and was running out of diesel (again), so drove without stopping until I found a gas station just before the airport. Having filled the car up I headed onwards, not stopping to check-in at my hotel, but drove up past the airport to Sandgerði, a port town. I was scouting for a picturesque spot for potential northern lights that evening, as well as for sunset, which wasn't far off, as the drive plus stops had taken me longer than planned. I would love to have stopped more, as the skies were amazing, with enormous cumulonimbus storm clouds off the coast to the north. As it was the sky was still dramatic as I stopped in the harbour.

I then drove along to another point on the peninsula, Garður, where there are two magnificent lighthouses (not so great when you're trying to find darkness to capture aurora, though!). The sun was setting fast, behind huge ominous clouds off the coast. Hundreds of eider ducks paddled around, sometimes flying around to the other side. I could see patches of sun across the water towards Akranes.

I played around with different exposure lengths as I watched the manic eider ducks - I quite liked the effect of the active birds darting around - this is a 2.5 second exposure.

Eventually I left, as the sun had disappeared and it had begun to rain. I drove back into Keflavik, checked into my hotel, which seemed completely dead, and checked the forecasts. There was patchy cloud and the aurora level was already active, but there was also a very bright full moon. I grabbed a quick dinner in a recommended restaurant, Kaffi Duus, and watched the first of the lights darting across the sky, with my hands up to the window to block out the ambient light. The food couldn't come fast enough - I just wanted to get out there and enjoy the show - finally. By the time I'd wolfed down my delicious seafood salad, paid and driven along the road back towards the lighthouses the clouds had already become thicker - my aurora luck was really poor! I found a few dark-ish spots, but with the bright full moon coming out from time to time and the clouds creeping over me - together with the intermittent flash from the lighthouse - my aurora experience just wasn't happening. I managed to capture a few glimpses, but there was nothing of interest in the foreground, so I headed home just after midnight, a little disappointed, but knowing that I had a great excuse to return - perhaps in the autumn this year.

 

For information about what gear to take on a photographic trip to Iceland, have a look at my blog here

More photos from my various trips to Iceland can be found on my website.