Our Trip Summary
26 September – Laugarvatn27 September – Borgarnes
28 September – Snæfellsnæs (southern part)
29 September – Grundarfjörður
30 September – Berufjarðarvatn
1 October – Patreksfjörður
2 October – Heydalur
3 October – Heydalur
4 October – Reykholt
5 October – Skógar
6 October – Hveragerði
7 October – Keflavik
Colours and incredible textures; currently Iceland wears its Autumn colours! Sensational, luxurious, grand are words too weak to describe the landscapes...! Gradients of yellow, orange, red, green, grey and black are available to our eye. The island is covered with a carpet of moss and small shrubs. We have the impression that the plants and rocks emit them, that the light is coming from the earth. Sometimes, it is so beautiful, so intense; there is so much information that the beauty and harmony is simply overwhelming.
The waterfall thunders down before me, but is stopped in its tracks by a sheer rock face. The result of this clash of two elemental forces: a spectacular curtain of mist rising from the battle creating a calm that seems to envelope me.
Hrunalaug Hot Pot
N64 07 965 W20 15 295: - this is all we had to go by, so we punch them into the GPS and press ‘go’. Down this dirt track, onto that dirt track, across a grid and through a field. ‘You have reached your destination’… But I get ahead of myself. Of the geothermal phenomena: Iceland is an island positioned on the rift between the North American and Eurasian plates. So what does the clash of two tectonic plates mean – hot pots! Suddenly the earth bubbles and steaming water finds its way to the surface. The most amazing way to experience them, well that is in the middle of nowhere and we had certainly just arrived at one such place.
We now find ourselves parked on the side of a dirt track in the middle of vast openness looking around wondering if the coordinates are correct. But leading away from the road is a perceivable walking track that disappears over some small rolling hills. So we grab our swimming gear and head off. As we round a corner, a huge smile beams across my face. There, in front of us is a tiny tin shack that has been built next to the hot spring and steam rises from the water into the cold air. The shack seems to fit perfectly into the surrounds. Taking off the multiple layers that held the warmth close to us and suddenly being exposed to the cold air was certainly challenging but at least the shed protected us from the winds. However, as soon as we were submerged in the naturally hot water everything melted away. We sat there, day two in Iceland, in a remote field staring across the rolling hills and open space being warmed to our core, what a way to be introduced to Iceland’s hot pots!
Mesmerized by the tumbling water, hypnotised by the hum of the waterfall, I stand staring. We are below the waterfall and it is cascading over a rock ledge, the water seems to sit up just for a moment before falling. It is as if the maiden of the waterfall is deliberately allowing us to look through her essence and somehow I feel absolutely purified by the deep blue of the water, I think that she is showing off!
Of silence: we are not accustomed and at first we know that something is different but we cannot place it, it is as if you constantly feel that something is missing. Finally we comprehend, it is the silence and it is as if we were in a vacuum – no insects, no birds, no human activities, when the wind is still, nothing! Colours without any noise, colours that are so vibrant and so striking it feels as if there should be noise. Of silence: it only serves to intensive the colours, to focus our perception; certainly, an impressive thing. It allows us to truly appreciate, undistracted and totally focused.
This hot pot was remote, perhaps one of the most amazing things I have had the pleasure to experience!!
I knew that we were visiting a canyon but from the carpark I could see no more than a crack in the mountain in the distance. We decided to take a slight detour first, heading off track up to a stream / waterfall that seemed to appear from nowhere. When we reached the head of the waterfall to my amazement the water was simply flowing out of the rocks – out of the mountain, there was no stream. Obviously there was an underground river that was daylighting at our feet and for a few moments we stood, contemplating the journey that the water had taken. Satisfied that we had solved the mystery we headed towards the canyon.
To my absolute delight even as we got closer to the canyon, it never become anything more than a crack in the mountain, so much so that we would not have been able to walk side by side through the entrance. With one step we were accepted by the mountain and in her heart. Immediately the temperature changed, the light changed and the air changed. There was a stream flowing through the canyon, basically taking up the entire width and not being one who can leave something undiscovered I started scrambling upstream.
I pushed on, hopping across boulders, struggling up rock ledges, climbing over waterfalls and straddling the deep stream – stretching my arms and legs from canyon side to canyon side for support. Until finally I reached an impassable rock wall: well in truth I did contemplate the climb and started, but reason got the better of me.
There I stood for some time, for how long I am not sure as time seemed to slow – I was admiring a shaft of light that had managed to navigate past the towering rock walls either side of me. The soft light illuminated the deep green moss in the canyon but did not make it all the way down to the water so the stream looked like a black snake slithering beneath me. Lost in that moment I absorbed everything around me, I had to remind myself that this was in fact real, for the beauty could easily have been mistake for only being possible in a dream. I then took a deep breath, turned and start back down the stream and towards that crack that would now take me back to the world.
The crack
A wind as I have never experienced before. A wind that propels you, makes you stumble, means you are no longer the master of your path! It is not possible to drive straight on the road and when we do stop the car is shaking from the buffeting outside. And when you do decide to open the door, two hands and all your strength or you will lose it. To top it off, when you step outside of the car little stones become projectiles peppering you for your bravery to challenge the wind.
Behind the place that we are staying there is a mountain looming in the distance. Behind the place that we are staying the sun is beaming down and the colours are so vibrant, so stunningly beautiful. There is no way we can resist the pull of the mountains, so we set off heading towards it. The rolling hills are spectacular and they are occasionally punctuated by crystal clear streams that we must leap over. To our left the countryside drops down steeply into a river which meanders its way down to the fjord in the background. The river is in shadow which creates a stunning contrast to the beaming colours of the hills. We slowly progress towards the mountain, stopping regularly to be in awe of this scene; that colour; the texture of this plant. As we were heading up the side of a particular hill, something on the ground caught my attention. It was quartz and looking at it closer, to me it seemed that an ancient volcano had somehow turned ice into stone, had somehow petrified it. Looking closer along the side of the hill, it was clear that the stones were scattered along it. I felt as though we had stumbled upon a gem field, it was rather exciting. Each of the rocks had their own unique shape, their own unique colour. After a prolonged pause to admire our gem field, our gaze turned back to the mountain and the carpet of living colour that would lead us to it.
We had read that it was an isolated beach, which naturally attracted us to it, but when we arrived it was as if we had stepped off the end of the earth and arrived into a dream land! Let me take you back, the Western Fjords is one of the most isolated and raw areas in Iceland, only second to the highlands. Accordingly, with our travels through this area we had become accustomed to simple roads. But when we turned onto the track that would eventually lead us to the beach, I instantly knew it was going to be something special. I will confess to being rather nervous whether our little rental car would be up to the challenge. Before us was a narrow dirt track winding its way high into the mountains. After navigating the countless pot holes and endless stretches of corrugations, constantly having to drop down into first gear and crawl along, we were poised on the ridgeline of a mountain surveying the beach that was about to capture our imagination.
Slowly and steadily we descended the incredibly steep track until we reached what we assumed was the starting point for the walk to the beach – no more than a patch of grass to park on and a gate into a field. Far in the distance we could see the mist from the waves but we were not able to see the ocean. With a spring in our step and excitement in our heart we opened the gate and stepped into the field. As we navigated towards the mist we passed many a content cow who would give us the briefest moment of their attention before returning to their grazing, Coralyne rightly pointed out that the whole scene would have made an amazing chocolate advertisement.
After a reasonable hike we reached the edge of the grass and transitioned across onto the sand and from there it was only up a small sand dune and the ocean opened up before us, not one single sign of civilisation visible, not one single footprint on the beach. To the right there are towering cliffs that step out into the ocean, each successive one almost appearing to be the shadow of the former. To the left the beach stretches out before us, orange, gold and black in the sands arranged by the waves as if they are on a canvas that any artist would be proud of. In the distance on the left a mountain range drops into the ocean the headland forging a path into the mist. Multiple waterfalls slide down the mountain the white of the water punctuating the black of the rocks. Behind us another mountain (or perhaps I could say the same mountain) joins the left to the right hemming us in. In front of us the waves continue their march to the beach, crashing down and the ocean’s vastness spreads out. We are alone there is no doubt about that, the beauty, the remoteness stirs me greatly but beyond that it is a scene I have never experienced and I am not sure if I could have conjured it in my imagination, we have indeed arrived at a dreamland on our extraordinary planet.
Hobbit Hole
In a land of such mystery and magic, I would expect nothing else but to discover a Hobbit Hole!
Let me pose a question to you – if you were given these instructions would you believe such a place existed: drive down the road the hugs the edge of a Fjord, cross over the bottom of a waterfall that thunders down from the cliff above before flowing into the ocean under your path, once past the waterfall turn right into the little driveway. Park your car and exit the vehicle, in front of you should be the Fjord stretching out, surrounding you will be mountains and before you will be a swimming pool, simply in the middle of the paddock, with steam rising from the water for it is heated by a nearby hot spring. All you have to do is jump in and enjoy, and you can spend 2 hours there and not another car, not another person will pass. Well I can tell you that it does exist and it is spectacular!
The texture of Iceland is something that I will never forget. Both on the macro and micro scale it was something that could stop you in your tracks and grab your attention. Whether it was the rolling hills covered in scrub or the rocks covered in moss, they all seemed to welcome you, to invite you to lie down and be embraced by the earth.
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