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 #14 - Day 6 - a Lazy Grey Day at Stafafell

For the first time ever on any of my Icelandic photographic trips, I didn't go anywhere in the car for the whole day. I awoke to snow and decided to just enjoy the warm cottage, review and process some photos I'd taken earlier in the week, and perhaps go out for a walk locally later, if the snow stopped. I got up at 9.30am (I would get up at that time naturally every day if I didn't have a day job, I think) and had tea and breakfast. I took a couple of shots out of the front door of the cabin of a passing snow storm. At one point the snow outside was very heavy and I regret not forcing myself to go out in it. Instead I was lazy and just watched it from the comfort of the cottage, through the window.

The mountains to the east weren't visible for most of the morning, but finally just before midday the cloud began to clear and I got a glimpse of the peaks (more shots out of the front door!). Thick fog sat at the foot of the mountains and some sun somehow managed to shine on the snowy slopes. Snow showers continued to pass by over the sea in the distance. The light changed every few minutes.

I finally dragged myself out of the warmth and into the freezing Icelandic air. It was nice to leave the car where it was and head out on foot; there was enough fresh snow on the ground that I wasn't likely to slip over. The area of Stafafell is just lovely - farm buildings and horses with the stunning mountains behind. I haven't even been in summer, when you can hike up into the local valley which is full of rhyolitic multi-coloured hills (one day...).

I crossed over the road at the entrance to the farm and headed towards the horses which were congregating on the other side of the cattle grid. I'd driven down this track the previous year and had loved seeing the winding river braids in the distance.

As I approached the horses a 4WD arrived and four Chinese people got out. They walked up to the horses and the girls giggled a lot while sticking cameras in their faces. I wanted to go past the horses and down the track, but waited a while as I thought they might follow me. The horses were wet; I wished I'd gone out there in the morning to capture them in the snow. Too late :( The guys went back to the car and I thought they were about to leave but instead they returned with a drone. They put the little whirring noisy red thing in the sky and the horses were visibly freaked out.

Eventually I walked through the horses and headed down the track, making footprints in the deep snow.

I reached a point where the road turned to the left and off to my right was a beautiful view of a grey river bend, with little grey pools in the snow, creating some amazing patterns; many layers of grey.

As I wandered around the clouds began to part a little and the peaks of Brunnhorn and Vestrahorn were revealed once again. From time to time it would start to snow, so the camera was covered with the plastic rain cover and the camera bag was protected with its protective cover (it worked perfectly!)

I turned around and started to walk back up the road, as the light coming from behind the peaks grew more and more intense.

As I headed up the hill back towards the farm the clouds began to clear over the nearest hills. The light was wonderful, with some nacreous clouds around the sun and wispy clouds moving around in the valleys.

By the time I reached the horses again they were lit up in the afternoon sun and looked stunning; they had dried off a fair bit in the last hour.

As I got home the light became really intense again, and I wished I'd been further down the road again. I could've got in the car and driven back there, but I was desperate for the loo, needed more tea and some late lunch, so I went back to the cabin, leaving the glorious golden hour behind.

A little later on I headed out onto the balcony outside the front door and took a few more shots of the view eastwards to the pointy peaks that I so love. The sky was now filled with clouds again, but there was some pinkish light for a short while.

The pinkness disappeared and I was left the with mystical blueness of dusk.

I stood out for a while until the light faded, eventually calling it a night. It had been a wonderfully peaceful day (apart from the drone!) and it made me realise how nice it is to be based somewhere so lovely and just stay there and explore (on foot). So many visitors to Iceland rush around and try to cram in as many of the well-known views and sights as possible, but perhaps it's only when you stop and get to know it a bit better that you can really appreciate its wondrous beauty and discover your own special places. This is certainly one of mine.

Click here for the blog from Day 5 - Hvalnes & Stokksnes 
Click here for the blog from Day 7 - Stafafell to Jökulsárlón