Iceland #14 - Day 7 - From Wonderful Stafafell to Incredible Jökulsárlón

I really do hate to leave the yellow cottage, but all good things must come to an end. Three nights is the longest I've stayed there (and I planned my revised dates for the trip around doing so), but still only gives me two whole days, which just isn't enough! They had been fantastic days, though, with a great variety of weather conditions (although bitterly cold throughout) and the usual stupendous views. On my 7th day I was driving back to Jökulsárlón, where I'd spend another two nights before returning to the west. Before I left the cottage I made one last trip to the east, to explore a new beach that I'd driven past on the scary raised road along towards Djúpivogur a couple of times, Fauskasandur.

I set off at 8.15am, as it was just beginning to get light. The sky was pretty clear again, with the usual annoying cloud on the horizon to mess around with the sunrise. It was ridiculously cold - possibly below -10 deg C - and there was definitely no chance of the windscreen wiper working any time soon. I was a bit nervous driving out down the track, but Sigurdur had cleared it a little the previous night with his snow-plough, so it wasn't too bad. There wasn't a soul on the road as the roads from Jökulsárlón all the way to the airport (and up to the Golden Circle) were closed, and had been for a day. No traffic was coming my way, and no-one was bothering heading west either, since they wouldn't be able to get very far. I drove along the usual wonderful road towards Hvalnes, and Fauskasandur is just a little way further, past the nerve-racking area prone to avalanches from rocks and snow above. I didn't stop until I got to a parking area just above the beach. There is a track down to a larger parking area below the road, but it was completely snowy and there was just enough room for me to safely pull the car off the road without getting bogged in snow. I walked down the snowy path and could see a large stack on the beach below and black sand beaches on either side of a small headland.

I climbed down to the beach, passing a rather sad sign, eventually finding a path that wasn't too treacherous.

The area was very beautiful, but I found it extremely challenging to find a composition that I was happy with. The main stack on the beach was massive (and a little troll-like), leaning towards the sea a little, with sand piled up against its base, so very little wave action even reached it.

I decided to see what it looked like from the rocky outcrop, from above, so headed back the way I'd come, trying not to make new footprints until I ventured towards the edge of the headland. Unfortunately the stack was pretty much hidden against the sand from above. It was a lovely spot, all the same, and eventually the sun broke through the low clouds and lit up the snowy mountain on the far side of the road and the surf. When the sun did appear it was wonderfully warming but blinding!

Unfortunately I was also short on time, as I had to drive back to the cottage, pack up, and check out. I would loved to have spent far longer there, exploring the beaches, but it'll still be there next time...

The clouds became quite interesting as I drove back - again I wished I could have stopped every minute or so - it was quite stunning. I found a spot to pull over, just before the Hvalnes corner, and was graced with the presence of some reindeer, as well as some great light ahead.

My last stop before I reached home was a quick one at the parking area where I'd seen the truck driver the previous day (I usually stop there to see what the view is like). The light was beautiful again, as the sun came out of clouds. If only I'd had more time...

I got back to the cottage and showered and packed up. I was sad to leave my lovely little remote home, but at least (as per usual) I had somewhere equally wonderful to visit at the end of the day ahead. I went up to the house and chatted for a while about the road closures with Sigurdur and his wife (the lovely sheepdog was in the car, unfortunately). After settling up I stopped for one last photo of that unforgettable view and headed on my way - beginning the long journey westwards.

I stopped briefly at the side of the road to photograph the road up to the tunnel, the snowy peaks, and the little huts on the far side of the lagoon. The air temperature was considerably warmer and the snow was melting, so stopping at the side of the road was far easier now the pull-outs were revealed again.

I headed down into Höfn to pick up some food for the next couple of nights (more tuna pasta!), and passed some horses along the way which were standing on ice, reflected in it. Unfortunately on my return they'd moved away. 

The next stretch of road was just glorious - blue skies above and a bit of stormy loveliness to the west. The road past Jökulsárlón had re-opened so a few cars trickled east past me; it was lovely and peaceful though. I stopped at a couple of the usual spots - the graffiti house, the favourite tree, the treeline, plus I captured some cows that had been allowed a breath of fresh winter air.

Next stop was Jökulsárlón - hurray!! What would the wonderful beach bring me? I stopped in at Gerði, hoping to get the keys to my room at Reynivellir early so I didn't have to drive back there later - fortunately they had them for me. I said hello to the silly dog, who was still trying to run after cars in spite of the treacherous glassy road. He cocked his leg against my car but wouldn't stand still for a face-on photo, so then I headed on my way back to the beach.

It had got a lot cloudier once I'd past the mountain of Steinafjall, with some potential for good snowstorm clouds (and, er, snowstorms!). It was still freezing, although better than the previous day; the piece of ice was still locking the windscreen wiper against the window. I parked at the east beach and headed to the shore, wrapped up in my superb 66 North coat!

The beach looked stunning - sun was coming in and out of snow clouds and the sand was littered with small bergs. I was in heaven, again.

The sun stayed out for a while, giving intense light on the surf.

After a while the sun disappeared and the light was, in contrast to earlier, absolutely dreadful! The sea looked grey, and despite the wonderful water trails over a few little icebergs in the surf, most of the photos were very disappointing. I converted a few to black and white, to try and at least highlight the shapes and patterns of the ice and waves interacting.

By 5pm, the light was fading and I was cold and hungry. I headed back to Reynivellir, back to my little single room. I parked up and walked slowly across the icy driveway towards the front door with my backpack over my shoulder, holding a couple of plastic bags of food. I said to myself "it's bloody treacherous!" just as I slipped. I fell forward and whacked my right knee onto the ice. Thank god I wasn't carrying my camera gear, which I sometimes do - loose around my neck - otherwise that would have smashed to the ground too. As it was the only damage really was to my knee (wow, how it hurt!) - the beer bottles in the plastic bag somehow managed to land softly, as did the rucksack. I limped slowly for the last few steps and emptied the first batch, then returned to the car to pick up the rest of the gear, putting my camera safely in its padded bag, and got safely inside.

A little later on I went downstairs to cook (and to have a well-earned beer) and met a nice German couple, telling them about my injury after I limped downstairs. The woman was a photographer and her husband basically ferried her around and then stood around while she took photos - a more patient man than mine! Later on I reviewed the photos and spoke to my hubby (freaking the dog out as he just can't understand the fact that he can hear me but can't see me in the phone). Another wonderful day, and in spite of the drab skies at sunset it was still fantastic to be back there. I only had one more full day there, but the weather forecast was promising, so I set my alarm early for the next morning so I could be down on the beach for dawn.

Click here for the Day 6 Blog - Grey Day at Stafafell
Click here for the Day 8 Blog - Jöksulárlón Yet Again!

Iceland Feb 2015 - Day 4: A Blue & Green Day at Jökulsárlón

I managed to get up early, not wanting to make the same mistake as the previous day (missing impressive purple dawn skies). I arrived on the east beach at Jökulsárlón at 8.15 and sat in the car for a while, watching heavy snow come towards the car at me, horizontally, as I'd parked facing the wind (better for opening car doors). There wasn't a spot of colour in the sky; just dense greyness. It definitely looked as if there was going to be no sunrise to speak of, and conditions weren't exactly pleasant, or easy for photography. The wind was still blowing strong from the south-west, so any photos would have to be taken facing east to prevent the lens being covered with snow.

The beach looked different with a light covering of snow and hail, most of the black sand covered. The snow nestled in the nooks of the icebergs and footprints. The beach was still covered with a dense amount of icebergs - the tide hadn't carried them away as it had in previous years, and it was actually difficult to get down to the shore-line. Surprisingly, I was the only person there for a good half hour - it's a great place to be alone!

I wandered along through the scattered icebergs and noticed some beautiful "still life" arrangements of icebergs with the sand and the snow, as well as beautiful patterns in the icebergs themselves.

After a while concentrating on the ice detail I continued down the beach, as the skies lightened a little and a few other photographers arrived.

As usual, the weather was mixed, with occasional breaks in the cloud and a few storm clouds passing over bringing a short snow-shower (that was the forecast for the whole day).

The beach was cluttered with icebergs, so I was unable to get any pretty shots of nicely-sculpted individual bergs with water trails over them, and had to be content with "group" iceberg shots! I managed to get a few massive waves crashing over the bergs too, as the sun finally came out from behind the clouds.

Within minutes it was gone again, the skies dark and very ominous once again, the next snow-shower only minutes away.

Before the shower arrived I thought it would be a good opportunity to head to the lagoon for a change of scenery, not to mention a few minutes in the warm car, a chance to clean the filters, and a nip to the loo in the café! I'd already been out for 2 hours and my feet were their usual chilly selves. Again I spent an hour in the café, warming up with some hot chocolate and chatting to a couple of fellow photographers. The sun came and went as I sat inside, lighting up the icebergs in the lagoon and the glacier that feeds it. The café has been done up a bit in the past year, with more things for sale, but it even has wifi now, so I was able to put a real-time photo of the spectacular view on Instagram from there! When I headed out again it was cloudy and dull, but I knew that this wouldn't last for long as the clouds were moving over very quickly. I took the long lens out with me again, hoping to get some closer shots of the distant ice. The light was dreadful for a while until the sun finally came out again, first in patches, and then lighting up the whole scene.

Almost as quickly as it had come the sunny spell was over, the wind returned and everyone hurried back to the comfort of their cars or the café.

After an hour and half out there I headed back to Hali for a little rest. I stopped along the way at a small pool next to a narrow bridge, where I'd stopped a few times in the past; the pool was frozen and a strange shade of green. The sky was impressive when I got home, with snow shower clouds swirling around the sun. I wandered back to see the horses, who were for a short while bathed in Icelandic sunshine.

I can never stay indoors for long when Jökulsárlón is so close by, so after a couple of cups of PG Tips (which I always carry with me now!) and recharge of the batteries I was back at the beach for 4.15pm, a good hour and a half before sunset. As earlier, the sun continued to come in and out of snow-shower clouds, and although the skies weren't very colourful, they were dramatic at times.

I wandered to the end of the beach where the river dumps out the icebergs into the sea. Here there was a large number of enormous icebergs bobbing around in the pounding waves; I guess it's here where they're smashed against each other and are broken into the smaller pieces that then wash up a little further down the beach at high tide. I was able to stand on some rocks and get a slightly higher view of the beach.

I headed home at 6pm, the dark clouds preventing enough light being available for twilight photos. Again my feet were too cold - my new boots really weren't doing their thing. The forecast for that evening was good - both for clear-ish skies and for a decent aurora display, so I made sure I had all the right equipment to hand (charged batteries, memory card with space, head-torch, foot warmers, and clean, non-filtered wide-angle lens). After another yummy home-made pasta and skype call home I eventually headed out at 10.30pm, as the detailed short-term forecast I was using showed a KP of over 3 due by that time (up from 1.67 earlier).

I parked at the café car-park, together with about a dozen other cars and a campervan, quickly turning off my lights, so as not to ruin the light for everyone else. I walked up on to one of the hills overlooking the lagoon, from where I had a good view across the lake to the north and west, and over the mountains to the north and east. The lights were out, but not very brightly visible to the naked eye. The camera, as usual, captured a lot more! There were a few annoying and persistent small clouds that got in the way of the lights on the horizon. It was extremely dark, and therefore difficult to compose each shot. On my trip there last year I'd developed an easy method to get around this, though, by bumping up the ISO to 25,600, taking a shot (only a couple of seconds), then recomposing and focusing and trying again, and when I was happy with the composition and focus I'd put the ISO back down (to 2,000-3,200 generally) and take a longer shot, knowing I wasn't wasting time on a poorly-composed, out of focus one! Later on I'd delete all the grainy high ISO shots.

The lights became more visible to the naked eye occasionally, but from time to time people along the shore of the lagoon below me would shine their torches or cars would shine their headlights across the icebergs in the lagoon, reducing the visibility of the lights above. I found it really annoying and inconsiderate and wasn't the only person to shout down from the hill for people to turn their lights off. At least there wasn't a coach-load of Asian women like last year, screeching with delight every few seconds! I moved around a bit, eventually heading down to the beach, hoping to get some shots with the aurora reflected in the lake. While I was down there someone put their car lights on, shining a horrible bright white light on the icebergs across the lagoon for about 10 minutes. At least from on the hill I'd been able to turn and photograph the scene behind, but down on the beach I had nowhere else to point my camera! Eventually they turned the lights off and the place felt a little more natural again. The reflections in the water were disappointing; a slightly moonlit night probably would've helped for providing more (natural) light in the foreground.

The foot-warmers were helping a little, but I still felt very cold. I had my down mittens with me and would put my gloved hands inside them to keep them warm between shots, which was a bit fiddly, but effective in keeping my fingers alive. Eventually, though, the clouds were getting a little thicker, so I decided to call it a night and head home. The lights would probably go on all night, but there's only so many pictures of northern lights you can take in one spot!

As I parked at Hali I noticed that the lights above me were extremely active, dancing green lines above my head. I wandered along the track towards the horses and took another couple of shots before turning in for the night. I should have stayed out all night, as the display was in full force above me and there were fewer clouds here, but I was too tired and too cold. It had been a pretty good night after all and it had to end somewhere. I did manage to have a quick beer while I had a quick look over my photos!

Click here to view Day 3: A Day at Jökulsárlón
Click here for Day 5: Heading east to Stafafell