TRAVELOGUE #3 - ICELAND, 31 May to 3 June 2015

DAY 7

Two of Iceland’s most impressive waterfalls are next to each other on the Jökulsá á Fjöllum River about

40 km upstream from where it flows into the Arctic Sea. In this picture we are standing in front of

Selfoss, the smaller of two. It was very cold, and the wind was blowing almost hard enough to blow over

the camera tripod that we used for this dual selfie.

The neighboring waterfall, Dettifoss, is only about 1 km downstream from Selfoss. It is the largest

waterfall in Europe in terms of volume of water flow. Since the same water flows first over Selfoss and

then over Dettifoss, with no apparent input, one wonders why they do not share the "largest in Europe"

honors. Size does matter when it comes to the serious business of waterfall ranking. We had the

impression that Gullfoss, which we visited a few days ago, was the largest. Perhaps something was lost

in the translation. In any case, as you might surmise by now, “foss” is the Icelandic word for waterfall

regardless of size.

Look carefully at the next picture and you can see people midway along the path up the side of Mount

Hverfjall , a tephra cone volcano which is part of the 818 m high Krafla volcano. Between 1975 and 1984

Krafla, which is 10 km wide at the base, erupted nine times. Walking up the path to the top of Hverfjall

it was hard not to think about the huge lake of lava not that far beneath our feet.

Not far away from the volcno at the Krafla Geothermal Power Station shown below, water is forced

down holes drilled deep into the earth’s crust. The water turns to steam that is piped to the surface

where it turns turbines generating 60 megawatts of electric power. Krafla is the Iceland’s largest

geothermal power station.

Driving through the power station area, there is a definite smell of rotten eggs. The aroma of hydrogen

sulfide is also quite noticeable at nearby Hverarönd, an area of boiling mud pots, fumaroles, and

solfataras (sulfur places). We were reminded of Yellowstone Park back home. Thanks to geothermal

and hydroelectric power, Iceland has essentially no pollution –if you don’t count the above mentioned

stink.

Despite the lingering aromas of Krafla and Hverarönd, we had no problem enjoying lunch.

Our next hotel was in the tiny village of Reykjahlíð on the shores of Lake Myvatn. The name of the lake

in Icelandic translates to “lake of midges” in reference to the swarms of midges in the summer. While

we would prefer milder conditions, this unseasonable cold, wet weather has advantages: no bugs.

The lake and Laxá River it feeds are known for brown trout and Atlantic salmon fishing. Despite the

continuing snow flurries, we saw several hardy fishermen trying their luck.

We were in Reykjahlíð for two nights, and spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the nearby lava

formations of Dimmuborgir. While lava flows cover much of Iceland, Dimmuborgir is unique. The

geological explanation relates to a major eruption 2,300 ago. When a massive lava tube collapsed, the

lava flowed across wet sod causing the water to boil. The force of the rising vapor formed the fantastic

shapes that still exist today.

We hiked several km through the bizarre landscape to the Kirkjan, a large lava cave that with an active

imagination might be thought to resemble the entry of a large Gothic cathedral.

DAY 8

The Goðafoss (Waterfall of the gods) is considered to be one of the most spectacular in Iceland. With a

spectacular waterfall around every corner, it is possible to expeience waterfall fatigue. We’re not there

yet and found Goðafoss to be one of the most impressive we’ve seen so far. An added attraction is that

it required the shortest trek from the parking lot.

Having gotten our waterfall fix for the day, we were ready for lunch and stopped in the fishing village of

Húsavík. The village is believed to be the first place in Iceland to be settled by a Norse man, the Swedish

Viking Garðarr Svavarsson, who was there for one winter around 870 AD. The name of the town means

"bay of houses" in reference to Garðarr's homestead. These may have been the only houses in Iceland

at the time. Today, in addition to fishing, tourism is a major industry in Húsavík, particularly whale

watching. We thought it ironic that Iceland remains one of the few countries those still hunts whales.

It was raining heavily, and despite assurance that the leviathan’s are sited on almost every trip, we

opted to remain dry and ashore where we admired the harbor’s fleet of traditional sailing vessels.

After lunch we drove on to Ásbyrgi canyon in the Jökulsárgljúfur National Park. This horseshoe-shaped

depression is lined by tall cliffs and is divided through the middle by the unusual rock formation shown

below. Geologists do not yet agree on how the canyon was created, but legend says that it is the hoof

print of the eight-legged horse of a Norse god.

DAY 9

We woke up to see the eveything white with dusting of snow. The weather cleared briefly as we

departing rewarding us with this panorama of Lake Myvatn.

The next two pictures were taken in Akureyri, the second largest city in Iceland with a population of

18,000. We walked through the town’s attractive high street and ducked out of the freezing wind for

coffee and hot chocolate in the “Backpacker’s Café”. An interesting establishment, It offered rooms,

meals, Wi-Fi, and a laundry service.

The small wooden house in the next picture is on the outskirts of Akureyri . It is the childhood home of

Jón Sveinsson (1857-1944), the author of a children's book series famous throughout Iceland and

Germany. The books were written in German before being translated into Icelandic and other

languages. They are very popular here and well known by Icelandic children.

We have now reached the north of Iceland, an area of deep fjords lined by massive snow-covered

mountains. At least we believe this to be true, as rain, snow, and low cloud cover obscured much of this

grandeur. We stopped in the tiny village of Siglurfjorodhur and visited Síldarminjasafnið, the "Herring

Era Museum". For about 100 years the herring fishery was very important here. According to one

Icelandic history, “Without herring it is questionable whether the modern society that now exists in

Iceland could ever have developed.” It went on to say that herring ensured Iceland economic

independence and played a role in enabling the country to achieve freedom in 1944, following five

centuries of Danish domination. Alas, today the schools of fish have moved on, and the local café did

not serve herring; we had hotdogs and beer.

As we drove on through the rain, sleet, and snow to Skagafjörður (fjörður means fjord), we were able to

see hints of the magnificent surrounding mountains through occasional breaks in the low cloud cover.

This kind of weather certainly does not suppress the appetite. We stopped at a small seaside restaurant

in the village of Hofsós for Icelandic pancakes, which resembled crêpes, spread with sugar and rolled up.

They were delicious (see the picture below). Later that day, at a bakery in the village of Sauðárkrókur,

we asked for another traditional Icelandic dessert. We tried a kind of semi-sweet roll; they were OK, but

not nearly as good as the crêpes.

We spent that evening on a large farm some 20 km from Sauðárkrókur at the Hofsstaðir Guesthouse.

The farm was run by several generations of one family and produced corn and potatoes as well as hay

for the animals. The farmer’s wife was unable to say exactly how large the farm was, except that it was

big, included a couple of nearby mountains, some lakes, and a glacial-fed river. One day her father

netted 155 fish in the river. In addition to cows and many sheep, the ranch maintained a herd of 75

Icelandic horses including 8 new foals. The sturdy horses, which come in many different colors including

skewbald, have thick coats and live outdoors year round.

DAY 10

The weather was nicely clear but still very cold as we departed the farm. We next visited the Glaumbær

Folk Museum, which was housed in an 18-19th century Icelandic farmhouse complex, once considered

the stately home of a well-to-do farm family. The farmhouse was actually a collection of smaller

buildings comprising 14 rooms off a central passageway. The building’s façade was constructed of

wood, a relatively scarce and expensive material. The turf roof was supported by wooden beams, and

most floors were stone.

The other walls and roofs were made of turf, an abundantly available traditional building material

known for its insulating value.

Note the herringbone turf in this storeroom pictured below; the design contributed wall's strength.

We also stopped at a turf church, an area of cone-shaped hillocks, and, of course, an obligatory

waterfall, but much of the day was spent simply enjoying the passing scenery.

Most of the highways we’ve travel in Iceland have two lanes, usually but not always striped, and

typically without guardrails at even the most awe-inspiring drop-offs. There are many rivers and

therefore many bridges, a large fraction of which are only one lane wide. A yellow and red sign warns

that you are approaching such a narrow bridge where the rule is first to arrive has priority. There are

also mile long tunnels; some of these also are only one lane wide but with wide spots every so often to

accommodate oncoming vehicles.

Traffic was almost nonexistent so there was no problem stopping on the road to take the next picture.

We drove two hours that morning without seeing another vehicle.

In addition to large numbers of horses, sheep are ubiquitous and frequently at the side of or even in the

middle of the road. They usually run away when they hear the car. We understand that if you hit one,

you must find the farmer and pay. Small lambs almost outnumber the mature ewes and rams. We saw

the family group in the next picture on the road to Hvammstangi.

We were driving through an area of fjords, the long, wide arms of the sea that penetrate the country’s

north coastline. There were a few isolated farms; the roofs of the buildings stood out in bright primary

colors against the bleak landscape. The occasional churches were tiny and even more widely separated.

The church beside Hrútafjörður in the next picture was unusual in that it was close to a farm.

The wide valleys in between the fjords, while hardly desolate, conveys a sense of great emptiness.