“Sometimes there's so much beauty, I feel like I can't take it.” - American Beauty
The West Fjörds. I... ::sigh::... nope. Nothing. The words – there are no words for the West Fjörds. I wish I could write about what it looked like and do it justice. How the bright blue water and gray-pink striated cliffs in the foreground stood against the snow-white and grey striped “Snæfellstrond” mountain chain in the background. At sunset. All of this at sunset. Miles and miles, driving in and out of each fjörd, seeing this spectacle from sea level, then from cliff level as the road wound up and down and around. The sight made me weepy then and it's almost making me weepy now just thinking about it.
We were told by a friend of a friend to hit the West Fjörds because it was “the most beautiful place she'd ever seen.” As we made our trip around the island, we encountered no travelers who had come from or were going there. We knew it was going to be a bit of a job, and a long one, getting through it. The road, as I said last update, is sometimes paved and sometimes dirt, but the real thing of it is the length of the drive. There is no direct way to get from point A to point B. You can't just drive from the northeast to the southwest, for example. You have to drive across the entire north to the west and then down to the south. But it's not that simple, either. Have a look at a map of the West Fjörds, if you will. See how the edge of the land goes in-out-in-out-in-out-in-out-etc-etc-etc? The road – the only traversable road – follows the coast. Thus, the shortest distance between two points is not a straight line, but an unbelievably long meandering one.
The more we realized that no one else, it seemed, was making the West Fjörds a part of their trip, the more we wondered if we'd be wasting our time there. If it would be beautiful as the rest of Iceland has been beautiful, but with no new sights to see. The same beauty we'd been seeing all along. I mean, what more could there be, right? We were not prepared.
It is THAT BEAUTIFUL. It's like, just when you think you've seen as much beauty as can possibly exist, the gods throw this in your face like “BAM! You thought that was it? GET A LOAD OF THE WEST FJ
ÖRDS.”
In addition to the gorgeosity, our West Fjörds trip became something of an adventure, too, as we weren't sure if we were going to have a bed that night. It took us ages to get to Dýrafjörður, where there were two guesthouse possibilities, both of which had been open since mid May, according to our brochure. And yet there was no one to be found at either one of them. One of them—Hótel Núpur—was unlocked, and we roamed the entire former-schoolhouse in search of someone to give us a room, but to no avail. Still, it was awesome because in one of the hallways hung large framed class pictures dating back to 1953. It was fascinating looking at the styles and names like Guðrún Ólafsdóttir and Halldór Bjarnason.
While searching the area, we met two girls from Hong Kong who were staying at Hótel Núpur. They invited us back with them to see if we could find someone to help. They were there with a photography group on some kind of working trip. Among others, there was a girl from England and a guy from Boston, and I think their trip leader was Russian, maybe. I have no idea how this trip came to be, but they were there to take pictures and also to do work on the hotel. They were staying in the gymnasium and invited us to stay with them, and we wouldn't have thought twice about it but we had no blanket or pillows or anything, so we thanked them for their attempts to help and scurried on our way.
Hayl: All we can do is hope we get to the next place by midnight and hope they have a room for us.
Thayer: Midnight?! It can't take us five hours to get there!
Hayl: Can't it?
It was a long, long, long, long, loooong, long time before the next guesthouse, Hótel Látrabjarg. And when we got arrived, there was no one there, either. But to be fair, it was 10pm. It may have felt like midday to us because of the sunlight, but to the natives it was not midday. While searching around, Thayer found the cook in the backyard doing some gardening. Because why wouldn't the cook be gardening? He didn't speak much English, but he knew what we were after, so he called the host and the host came over and gave us a room. It was a happy ending. Man, was it.
Today was stress-free. We had a lengthy drive, but a beautiful one, from Látrabjarg, back inland, and then back out again on the Snæfellsnes Peninsula. Along the way we stopped at the bird cliffs where, as you might imagine, there were many birds. We saw a puffin, too, which satisfied one of Thayer's goals. We also did a bit of frolicking at the westernmost part of Iceland and therefor the westernmost part of Europe, at Bjargtangar.
Oh, and in one of the small towns, we stopped at an Icelandic handicrafts store and I bought another Lopi sweater – this one is short-sleeved and has SHEEP as the pattern around the neck! I die every time I think about how adorable it is. After I did giddy jumpyclaps over it, I discovered that the woman sitting there knitting was the one who made it. She didn't speak English, but her daughter translated, and she was very happy I loved the sweater so much. It's not often you get to meet the maker of the stuff you buy. Then the two of them helped us plot our route to Hellnar, but not before several minutes of language barrier over the pronunciation of "Hellnar." Over and over, we said it, the repetition met only with their confused stares. Finally, we pointed to our map. "Oh, Hkbmfnvoslvd!" they may as well have said, for how much the Icelandic pronunciation sounds like "Hellnar."
Hótel Hellnar, at the tip of Snæfellsnes Peninsula, was warm and welcoming when we arrived, and our room is very sweet with a view of the ocean. The stormy weather is making the water quite angry and it is enchanting to watch. We had a delicious dinner—which rocked our world because we've been living on Clif bars for about a day and a half—of cheesy cauliflower soup with bread and smjör, the Icelandic word for butter. I'm sure you can guess how many times we try to work "smjör" into our conversation. Following the soup was cod in marinara for Thayer and bacon-wrapped chicken breast in mushroom sauce for me. And then came the Panna Cotta. Panna Cotta is a dream come true - like Baileys pudding with chocolate sauce and whipped cream. Bliss.
After dinner it was about 9:30 pm, so of course we went sight seeing. At the water's edge, there was a naturally-formed rock arch, snaking out from the cliffs like one of those Chinese dragons. The waves would come in and crash through the arch and the holes. The clifftops are shockingly green on top of slick wet black. The waves were so dramatic, exploding off the cliffs like fireworks. We stood in the rain and cold and watched, mesmerized.
Now we are snug in our bed and ready for sleep. Eyemasks, ready, go.
A couple of quotes to leave you with.
*
Hayl: Iceland, you can be really difficult sometimes, you know?
*
[lambs skipping along the road]
Thayer: Get away from the road, you damned skippies!
Hayl: [loses it, laughing hysterically]
Thayer: Oh dear, it's that point of the night, is it?
*
Hayl: Nice fjarm.
Thayer: Nice bjirds.
Hayl: Nice shjirt.
Thayer: Look, there's a ljamb!
Hayl: Hi, ljamb!
Thayer: Whoa, that sheep is shjorn.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Iceland Update: North and Westerly
To begin, a note about my hair. I don't know what it is, but somehow I have the best hair ever when I am overseas. Our Europe 2006 trip convinced me to stop using conditioner altogether, because I never had time to use it during the 5-and-a-half seconds of lukewarm water we'd get out of the showers there, and I had awesome hair without it. Now, in Iceland, we forgot our shampoo and face wash three stops ago, in Hof. Mostly it hasn't been a big deal because the guest houses have had a wall-mounted “all over shampoo” that we could use. Last night, though, there was no such product and I used the provided hand soap instead, thinking what the hell, how bad can it be? The answer: best hair of my life. The course of action is clear. I am meant to be European. Right?
Alright, let's get back to it starting with a couple of quotes.
Hayl: This is incredible! I mean, what's with these sweeping lines across the... things?
Thayer: It's... you know... geology, or whatever.
*
[We drive into Egilsstaðir]
Hayl: Wow.
Thayer. I know. First big city in a while.
Hayl: Big city alright. They have a Húsasmiðjan and everything.
*
We left cute little Egilsstaðir and the East Fjörds and headed through the general north area to Lake Mývatn (Mee-vatn), one of Earth's most volcanically active regions. The lake was beautiful, and we saw a plethora of geologically awesome and terribly stinky things. The smell of sulfur is prevalent, as it has been mined here since the 14th century. The Námafjall / Hverarönd area is an expanse of land covered in cracks and clay and steaming vents and bubbling mud pits. You can walk around the marked paths, but they urge you not to venture outside the lines, as the ground is thin and unstable and might crumble underneath you, in which case you'd be likely to get boiled. Yum, German Fisher stew!
The Krafla area is a geothermal power plant beyond which are a bunch of craters from eruptions in the 1700s and then some more eruptions in the 1970s. The area is still active and bubbling and scientists say Krafla could blow again at any time, but does that stop anybody from hiking around the ACTIVELY ACTIVE VOLCANO? Please. Of course not. I mean, what are the odds the thing would blow while we were on it. Evidently the odds were in our favor, because we escaped unscathed and headed on to Dimmuborgir.
Thayer's foot started to cause him trouble then, which was a bummer because he couldn't hike around Dimmuborgir with me. While he hung out at the visitors' center, I walked among giant, wacky-shaped pillars of lava rock and climbed on some, too, setting up the GorillaPod to take pics in attempts to capture how cool it was. We've seen several translations of Dimmuborgir and they are as follows: “black castles,” “dark crags,” and “city of darkness.” You get the idea. It's a little like a naturally formed Gotham City. One of the formations is actually called Kirkjan (church) because it looks just like a Gothic church.
After the black castles we went for some more nature baths at Jarðböðin – “the Blue Lagoon of the North.” It was so warm and relaxing and we were treated to watching a couple of German teenagers show off their acrobatic talents in the pool. This lagoon wasn't nearly as high-budget and fancy as the original Blue Lagoon, but it was just what we needed to unwind after days and days of driving.
We made it an early night, meaning we were in bed at Vogafjos Guesthouse by 11pm, and decided to hunker down and watch the series finale of LOST that we had downloaded on iTunes. (By the way, um, holy sh*t.)
Continuing across the north the next day, we stopped at Goðafoss, the waterfall of the gods. A beautiful place to hike around or just sit on the very edge and watch the falls. Next stop was Akureyri, the 2nd biggest city in Iceland. Such a vision. We came at it from the other side of the fjörd, and thus saw it for the first time from across the water. The scene was like this: water, cute little city on the other side, gigantic snowcapped mountain behind the city. We tooled around their shopping street, Hafnarstræti, and got "stuck" in another wool-stuff store. So many
sweaters. So many mittens and hats and cute Icelandic trinkets. Then we checked out their Akureyrarkirkja – they are all about their boxy concrete churches in the cities – and had coffee at Bautinn, a cafe at the end of Hafnarstræti.
Speaking of coffee, the Swiss Mocha is everywhere here, and that is suiting me quite well, indeed.
On we went across the north toward the west, stopping along the way at Þhingeyrar, the site of Iceland's first monastery, built in 1112. The stone church that is there now is over 100 years old, the oldest stone chuch in Iceland, and very striking. Come to think of it, it was kind of a churchy day, because we stopped at several of them. One of them was the turf church in Víðimýri, without a doubt the cutest church I've ever seen. Probably the cutest church in existence. Don't believe me? Check our Flickr pics.
Along the barren road, we stopped at yet another church. Basically your garden variety church in Iceland – we've seen dozens of them along the way. A white box with a tower, red roof, cross at the top. They're simple and sweet and somehow compelling to look at. They're in villages as tiny as, maybe, 4 houses. The things we're seeing here make it impossible not to imagine what this life is like. Quiet, simple, hardworking, and undramatic. It tugs at the heartstrings. This particular church had a door handle dated 1710. I don't know if the whole church is that old, or just the handle, but either way, that sort of thing makes my brain explode.
Last night we stayed at Gauksmýri Lodge near Hvammstangi. Lots of horse art. This was the first lodge we've been where the common room was jumpin'. It was packed, actually. We learned that it was because everybody was nuts about this American-Idol-esque show called Eurovision Song Contest. Representatives from participating countries submit an original song and perform it and then the audience votes. It is a HUGE DEAL, and Europeans have Saturday night parties around this show. It was so fun to be in that environment, but as for the songs – cheese cheese cheesaroo. WOW.
Also in the common room, we chatted with two girls who were on a class trip through their Environmental Studies high school in Minnesota. The trip is, like, a concentrated course. Like a gym credit. There were 11 students and 2 teachers traveling Iceland for 10 days. I have never
heard of anything like this, have you? What lucky kids! They can do this as juniors or seniors, and one of the girls said she did the trip last year, as well – to Australia! How do I rewind my life and get in on this?
Today we got on the road a bit earlier than usual, because we have about 350 kilometers to cover on the way to Isafjördur. We're hitting the West Fjörds! The West Fjörds kinda got shafted by the Ring Road – they're not on it, so I think they're not often visited. They're that big fin that juts off of the main chunk of the island. Still, the road is in pretty good condition, alternating between pavement and dirt. It's not scary or anything, like that crazy mountain road we took in the East Fjörds.
Speaking of fjörds – that is definitely the word of the day. In fact, Thayer and I took a video of the land, while we sing our song in the background. The song is called “Fjörds and Birds” and the lyrics are also “fjörds and birds” and any iteration thereof. It’s posted on Flickr. Feel free to sing along.
Love,
Hayl
Alright, let's get back to it starting with a couple of quotes.
Hayl: This is incredible! I mean, what's with these sweeping lines across the... things?
Thayer: It's... you know... geology, or whatever.
*
[We drive into Egilsstaðir]
Hayl: Wow.
Thayer. I know. First big city in a while.
Hayl: Big city alright. They have a Húsasmiðjan and everything.
*
We left cute little Egilsstaðir and the East Fjörds and headed through the general north area to Lake Mývatn (Mee-vatn), one of Earth's most volcanically active regions. The lake was beautiful, and we saw a plethora of geologically awesome and terribly stinky things. The smell of sulfur is prevalent, as it has been mined here since the 14th century. The Námafjall / Hverarönd area is an expanse of land covered in cracks and clay and steaming vents and bubbling mud pits. You can walk around the marked paths, but they urge you not to venture outside the lines, as the ground is thin and unstable and might crumble underneath you, in which case you'd be likely to get boiled. Yum, German Fisher stew!
The Krafla area is a geothermal power plant beyond which are a bunch of craters from eruptions in the 1700s and then some more eruptions in the 1970s. The area is still active and bubbling and scientists say Krafla could blow again at any time, but does that stop anybody from hiking around the ACTIVELY ACTIVE VOLCANO? Please. Of course not. I mean, what are the odds the thing would blow while we were on it. Evidently the odds were in our favor, because we escaped unscathed and headed on to Dimmuborgir.
Thayer's foot started to cause him trouble then, which was a bummer because he couldn't hike around Dimmuborgir with me. While he hung out at the visitors' center, I walked among giant, wacky-shaped pillars of lava rock and climbed on some, too, setting up the GorillaPod to take pics in attempts to capture how cool it was. We've seen several translations of Dimmuborgir and they are as follows: “black castles,” “dark crags,” and “city of darkness.” You get the idea. It's a little like a naturally formed Gotham City. One of the formations is actually called Kirkjan (church) because it looks just like a Gothic church.
After the black castles we went for some more nature baths at Jarðböðin – “the Blue Lagoon of the North.” It was so warm and relaxing and we were treated to watching a couple of German teenagers show off their acrobatic talents in the pool. This lagoon wasn't nearly as high-budget and fancy as the original Blue Lagoon, but it was just what we needed to unwind after days and days of driving.
We made it an early night, meaning we were in bed at Vogafjos Guesthouse by 11pm, and decided to hunker down and watch the series finale of LOST that we had downloaded on iTunes. (By the way, um, holy sh*t.)
Continuing across the north the next day, we stopped at Goðafoss, the waterfall of the gods. A beautiful place to hike around or just sit on the very edge and watch the falls. Next stop was Akureyri, the 2nd biggest city in Iceland. Such a vision. We came at it from the other side of the fjörd, and thus saw it for the first time from across the water. The scene was like this: water, cute little city on the other side, gigantic snowcapped mountain behind the city. We tooled around their shopping street, Hafnarstræti, and got "stuck" in another wool-stuff store. So many
sweaters. So many mittens and hats and cute Icelandic trinkets. Then we checked out their Akureyrarkirkja – they are all about their boxy concrete churches in the cities – and had coffee at Bautinn, a cafe at the end of Hafnarstræti.
Speaking of coffee, the Swiss Mocha is everywhere here, and that is suiting me quite well, indeed.
On we went across the north toward the west, stopping along the way at Þhingeyrar, the site of Iceland's first monastery, built in 1112. The stone church that is there now is over 100 years old, the oldest stone chuch in Iceland, and very striking. Come to think of it, it was kind of a churchy day, because we stopped at several of them. One of them was the turf church in Víðimýri, without a doubt the cutest church I've ever seen. Probably the cutest church in existence. Don't believe me? Check our Flickr pics.
Along the barren road, we stopped at yet another church. Basically your garden variety church in Iceland – we've seen dozens of them along the way. A white box with a tower, red roof, cross at the top. They're simple and sweet and somehow compelling to look at. They're in villages as tiny as, maybe, 4 houses. The things we're seeing here make it impossible not to imagine what this life is like. Quiet, simple, hardworking, and undramatic. It tugs at the heartstrings. This particular church had a door handle dated 1710. I don't know if the whole church is that old, or just the handle, but either way, that sort of thing makes my brain explode.
Last night we stayed at Gauksmýri Lodge near Hvammstangi. Lots of horse art. This was the first lodge we've been where the common room was jumpin'. It was packed, actually. We learned that it was because everybody was nuts about this American-Idol-esque show called Eurovision Song Contest. Representatives from participating countries submit an original song and perform it and then the audience votes. It is a HUGE DEAL, and Europeans have Saturday night parties around this show. It was so fun to be in that environment, but as for the songs – cheese cheese cheesaroo. WOW.
Also in the common room, we chatted with two girls who were on a class trip through their Environmental Studies high school in Minnesota. The trip is, like, a concentrated course. Like a gym credit. There were 11 students and 2 teachers traveling Iceland for 10 days. I have never
heard of anything like this, have you? What lucky kids! They can do this as juniors or seniors, and one of the girls said she did the trip last year, as well – to Australia! How do I rewind my life and get in on this?
Today we got on the road a bit earlier than usual, because we have about 350 kilometers to cover on the way to Isafjördur. We're hitting the West Fjörds! The West Fjörds kinda got shafted by the Ring Road – they're not on it, so I think they're not often visited. They're that big fin that juts off of the main chunk of the island. Still, the road is in pretty good condition, alternating between pavement and dirt. It's not scary or anything, like that crazy mountain road we took in the East Fjörds.
Speaking of fjörds – that is definitely the word of the day. In fact, Thayer and I took a video of the land, while we sing our song in the background. The song is called “Fjörds and Birds” and the lyrics are also “fjörds and birds” and any iteration thereof. It’s posted on Flickr. Feel free to sing along.
Love,
Hayl
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Iceland Update: the Southeast/East
The word of the day/week/forever is: mjölk. ["myolk"] It is the Icelandic word for milk, and we are having a blast blurting it out whenever the spirit moves us.
[at breakfast]
Hayl: Oops!
Thayer: Don't cry over spilled mjölk.
LOL! See? See how fun that was? It makes me laugh just LOOKING at the word. Luckily, we get to see it every time we stop for gas station coffee. Mjölk mjölk mjölk.
Anyhoo... after we left the lava field yesterday, we drove until we arrived in Hof, and we stayed at a place called Frost og Funi aka Frost and Fire aka Hof II. Our room was in a tiny "summer cottage" that consisted of 2 tiny bedrooms with a bathroom in the middle. The other bedroom in the cottage wasn't booked, though, so we didn't have to share. Our tiny bedroom was cutely decorated in sparse Ikea, but the pièce de résistance was the giant window with the view of infinite sky and infinite fields and infinite sheep.
Speaking of sheep -- it's springtime in Iceland and you know what that means. No? Neither did we, but now we've learned that springtime in Iceland means MILLIONS OF BABY SHEEP. Lambs, everywhere! More lambs than mjölk! Scampering lambs, always in twos, running and jumping and snuggling their moms. My heart bursts with happiness every time we see them, which is, like, hundreds of times a day.
So, snugged in our Ikea beds at Frost og Funi, we realized the power went out. Apparently the power went out in the whole area. No matter, we simply went on reading our books by the light of the sunset. At midnight.
After a nommilicious breakfast, we were on our way to Skaftafell national park. From the road, you start to see mountains with lots of snow on top. As you get closer, the snow on top gets bigger and bigger until you realize that IT IS A GLACIER. It's overwhelming in its hugeness. It looks like a catastrophic waterfall was happening and then someone hit the pause button, as Thayer so brilliantly put it. You really do get the impression that as soon as someone presses play, it's sayonara because that thing will take you out so fast. We saw a sign for hiking at Svínafell glacier, so we parked and hiked around on the mountain right next to the ice. The terrain got a little advanced before we could actually get TO the ice, so we just stayed on the rock and gawked at the massive "tongue," as they call it.
Then it was off to Jökulsárlón, a glacial lagoon where you can take boat tours, which we did. It's a pool several kilometers wide with icebergs floating in it. Lots of icebergs. Blue and white and beautiful and cold, a brilliant sight to behold. (Poem not intended.) On our way back to shore, our tour boat passed another tour boat just heading out. As we were waving to the other boat's passengers, Thayer goes, "Oh my God, there's Diana!" Diana, you'll recall, is the med student from Boston that we met on our first day in Reykjavik. Three days and several hundred kilometers later, we're in the same place again.
By the time Thayer and I were done buying mittens and such at the visitors center, Diana's boat had returned and we chatted with her and her sister about the crazy coincidence and what we had been up to the last few days. Then we were on our way.
Next on the journey, the East Fjörds. On our way, we had to stop in Höfn (not to be confused with Hof, where we had been the night before) because they have a lot of lobsters there and Thayer needed to experience the noms. Food was a little difficult to find because the town is, well, kind of uggs, and it was hard to tell what buildings were restaurants. We did end up finding a cute cabin-y looking place called Kaffi Hornið. The server recommended the lobster soup, which Thayer ate and said was the best seafood soup he's ever had. I don't even like seafood, but I had many tastes of his soup and it was delish.
Then, on our way out of the restaurant, who should walk in but Diana and her sister. This was getting awesome. We laughed it up and wished them a safe trip back to the states tomorrow, then left them to their lobster soup. As we were leaving the parking lot, we decided to leave Thayer's business card with our email addresses on their windshield. Perhaps we haven't seen the last of Diana!
Continuing to the East Fjörds, our final destination for the evening was a town called Egilsstaðir. To get there, you must drive around the fjörds — finger-like chunks of land that jut into the ocean. You can imagine how long that would make a trip, non? However long, the trip was absolutely gorgeous. Eventually we came to a sign that said we could continue along the fjörds and get to Egilsstaðir in 120 kilometers, OR, take this turn here and get there in 60 kilometers. Shave off half the trip? We were in!
We soon found that the 'shortcut' was to take a gravel road directly up a mountain. It was stunning in both beauty and terror. Actually, I don't think I've ever been that scared in my life. Thayer was cool as a cucumber, but I was gasping for breath at every turn, heart pounding, seeing my life flash before my eyes. However, the times I was able to rein in the paralyzing fear, I was floored by the view. We were... extremely high up. It felt like we could see the whole world. We got so high up that it was snowing. You know when you look at the tippy top of a mountain and there's snow chunks up there that never melt? That's where we were.
Eventually we made our way down the mountain and to Egilsstaðir and now here we are in the most adorable room at Guesthouse Egilsstaðir with a view of a lake. Quaint and lovely.
Thanks for reading, and I'll update again next time we scrounge up some internet! Love to you all!
H
[at breakfast]
Hayl: Oops!
Thayer: Don't cry over spilled mjölk.
LOL! See? See how fun that was? It makes me laugh just LOOKING at the word. Luckily, we get to see it every time we stop for gas station coffee. Mjölk mjölk mjölk.
Anyhoo... after we left the lava field yesterday, we drove until we arrived in Hof, and we stayed at a place called Frost og Funi aka Frost and Fire aka Hof II. Our room was in a tiny "summer cottage" that consisted of 2 tiny bedrooms with a bathroom in the middle. The other bedroom in the cottage wasn't booked, though, so we didn't have to share. Our tiny bedroom was cutely decorated in sparse Ikea, but the pièce de résistance was the giant window with the view of infinite sky and infinite fields and infinite sheep.
Speaking of sheep -- it's springtime in Iceland and you know what that means. No? Neither did we, but now we've learned that springtime in Iceland means MILLIONS OF BABY SHEEP. Lambs, everywhere! More lambs than mjölk! Scampering lambs, always in twos, running and jumping and snuggling their moms. My heart bursts with happiness every time we see them, which is, like, hundreds of times a day.
So, snugged in our Ikea beds at Frost og Funi, we realized the power went out. Apparently the power went out in the whole area. No matter, we simply went on reading our books by the light of the sunset. At midnight.
After a nommilicious breakfast, we were on our way to Skaftafell national park. From the road, you start to see mountains with lots of snow on top. As you get closer, the snow on top gets bigger and bigger until you realize that IT IS A GLACIER. It's overwhelming in its hugeness. It looks like a catastrophic waterfall was happening and then someone hit the pause button, as Thayer so brilliantly put it. You really do get the impression that as soon as someone presses play, it's sayonara because that thing will take you out so fast. We saw a sign for hiking at Svínafell glacier, so we parked and hiked around on the mountain right next to the ice. The terrain got a little advanced before we could actually get TO the ice, so we just stayed on the rock and gawked at the massive "tongue," as they call it.
Then it was off to Jökulsárlón, a glacial lagoon where you can take boat tours, which we did. It's a pool several kilometers wide with icebergs floating in it. Lots of icebergs. Blue and white and beautiful and cold, a brilliant sight to behold. (Poem not intended.) On our way back to shore, our tour boat passed another tour boat just heading out. As we were waving to the other boat's passengers, Thayer goes, "Oh my God, there's Diana!" Diana, you'll recall, is the med student from Boston that we met on our first day in Reykjavik. Three days and several hundred kilometers later, we're in the same place again.
By the time Thayer and I were done buying mittens and such at the visitors center, Diana's boat had returned and we chatted with her and her sister about the crazy coincidence and what we had been up to the last few days. Then we were on our way.
Next on the journey, the East Fjörds. On our way, we had to stop in Höfn (not to be confused with Hof, where we had been the night before) because they have a lot of lobsters there and Thayer needed to experience the noms. Food was a little difficult to find because the town is, well, kind of uggs, and it was hard to tell what buildings were restaurants. We did end up finding a cute cabin-y looking place called Kaffi Hornið. The server recommended the lobster soup, which Thayer ate and said was the best seafood soup he's ever had. I don't even like seafood, but I had many tastes of his soup and it was delish.
Then, on our way out of the restaurant, who should walk in but Diana and her sister. This was getting awesome. We laughed it up and wished them a safe trip back to the states tomorrow, then left them to their lobster soup. As we were leaving the parking lot, we decided to leave Thayer's business card with our email addresses on their windshield. Perhaps we haven't seen the last of Diana!
Continuing to the East Fjörds, our final destination for the evening was a town called Egilsstaðir. To get there, you must drive around the fjörds — finger-like chunks of land that jut into the ocean. You can imagine how long that would make a trip, non? However long, the trip was absolutely gorgeous. Eventually we came to a sign that said we could continue along the fjörds and get to Egilsstaðir in 120 kilometers, OR, take this turn here and get there in 60 kilometers. Shave off half the trip? We were in!
We soon found that the 'shortcut' was to take a gravel road directly up a mountain. It was stunning in both beauty and terror. Actually, I don't think I've ever been that scared in my life. Thayer was cool as a cucumber, but I was gasping for breath at every turn, heart pounding, seeing my life flash before my eyes. However, the times I was able to rein in the paralyzing fear, I was floored by the view. We were... extremely high up. It felt like we could see the whole world. We got so high up that it was snowing. You know when you look at the tippy top of a mountain and there's snow chunks up there that never melt? That's where we were.
Eventually we made our way down the mountain and to Egilsstaðir and now here we are in the most adorable room at Guesthouse Egilsstaðir with a view of a lake. Quaint and lovely.
Thanks for reading, and I'll update again next time we scrounge up some internet! Love to you all!
H
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Iceland Update: the South
[Getting ready to leave for Þhingvellir]
Hayl: C'mon, honey! We've got places to go and Thingvellirs to see!
Thayer: I totally saw that coming.
Hayl: No you didn't. That was WAY too creative for you to see coming.
----few minutes later----
Hayl: Places to go, Thingvellirs to see!
Thayer: It's not better the 2nd time around.
We are en route to the East and finally, hopefully, reaching the end of this endless ash cloud that has been permeating us and everything in the car on today's drive. We drove by Eyjafjallajokull -- the volcano that erupted (pronounced Ay-ya-FYAT-la-yo-KUT-l) -- and its next door neighbor several times its size, Myrdasjokull. We're feeling pretty dirty, but the hell with it. We're in Iceland, who cares about a little ash!
Let's rewind back to a time when we were clean. We left you last on our way to Þhingvellir, which is a national park on the site where Iceland's early settlers chose to have their national assembly, around 930 AD. Beauty and mountains and wildflowers and rocks and crags and awesomeness.
We stayed that night at Apartment K, as mentioned, and the next morning we checked out and headed to Bláa Lónið, or the Blue Lagoon. It was indeed everything it was cracked up to be. As someone wrote in the Apartment K guestbook, it was far less like Disneyland than expected. The water was like a warm, white-blue bath. We walked around, exploring the pools, relaxing, and giving ourselves silica mud masks. We also got a short but lovely water massage. After spending a good 4 hours pampering ourselves and taking a billion pictures (see our Flickr site here or here for just the highlights), we hit the road.
We drove for a few hours and, deciding to set up camp near Selfoss, we checked into Hótel Eldhestar, whose main foci are being eco-friendly and also... the Icelandic horse! There was horse art everywhere and a stable nearby from where guests can go on rides. We booked a ride for the next morning, then headed to a restaurant called Kaffi Krús for a late dinner. We both enjoyed the Selfossburger which, with it's combo of beef, bacon, cheese, tomato, and Bearnaise sauce, is famous the island over. NOM.
Around 10pm we finished dinner. Did we head back to Eldhestar and go to bed? Hell no! It wasn't even sunset!
[Driving after dinner]
Thayer: Whoa, it gets darker over here. The sun has set!
[We come around a mountain and the sun is still up -- had just been hiding on the other side of the mountain.]
Thayer: There's the sun!
Hayl: We're just going sightseeing at 10 pm. What?
Thayer: It's not like we were already sightseeing, either. It was 10pm and then we said, "Let's go sightseeing!"
We headed about an hour north to see Geysir. That's right. Geysir is its name. And every other geysir in the world is named after Geysir. Unfortunately, Geysir doesn't regularly perform anymore. Just on holidays when they put soap in him to make him spew. His neighbor Strokkur, though, puts on a show every 5 minutes or so. When we arrived, at about 11pm, mind, there were two men there with a rather large, expensive-looking video camera. Turns out, they're traveling the world shooting a History Channel show called "Gates of Hell" that will air in September. In medieval times, people were sure Geysir was a gate to hell. We just thought it was awesome.
After Geysir, we... continued sightseeing! Around midnight we got to Gulfoss — an immense, 2-tiered waterfall. Stunning stuff, made all the more surreal by the fact that it was the middle of the night, yet there was still plenty of light.
It started to look more dusk-like on our way home around 12:30am, which prompted us to get a little sleepy. Depending on the sun for our bodies' circadian cues is not really working. On the other hand, maybe it's working really well.
Still, we had to wear eye masks to bed at 1am because there was still enough light coming under the curtains to make you think you should be up and at 'em.
Next day, we got up and went Icelandic horseback riding with our lovely guide, Lina — a Swedish girl who summers in Iceland at the Eldhestar horse farm. We were the only ones on the tour, so she could spend extra time and patience teaching us to "tolt." Tolting is a thing Icelandic horses do that is between walking and trotting and is apparently supposed to be very smooth. Thayer seemed to pick it up like a pro. Me -- I was not able to synchronize the simultaneous rein-pulling, thigh-squeezing, and heel kicking that was required. Also, I have some heinous ankle bruises to show for the bang-bang-bang of the metal stirrups. Though definitely worse for the wear, I still loved it. It's hard to beat horseback riding through the Icelandic countryside.
We've been on the road the rest of the afternoon, stopping a few times to check out some interesting things on the roadside. For example, an ancient house built into the mountain side (so awesome) and a seemingly endless field of ash-covered, moss-covered lava rock. We are currently parked at said lava field while Thayer naps and I write. It's time we were on our way, though. Methinks we will lodge tonight near Skaftafell National Park. Perhaps a glacial lagoon boat tour is in our future.
Later!
-H
[After stopping by giant cliffs, wrapped at the bottom in a flowy green grass blanket -- possibly the most beautiful sight I've ever seen, complete with sheep]
Hayl: If I were someone else, I would totes envy us right now.
Hayl: C'mon, honey! We've got places to go and Thingvellirs to see!
Thayer: I totally saw that coming.
Hayl: No you didn't. That was WAY too creative for you to see coming.
----few minutes later----
Hayl: Places to go, Thingvellirs to see!
Thayer: It's not better the 2nd time around.
We are en route to the East and finally, hopefully, reaching the end of this endless ash cloud that has been permeating us and everything in the car on today's drive. We drove by Eyjafjallajokull -- the volcano that erupted (pronounced Ay-ya-FYAT-la-yo-KUT-l) -- and its next door neighbor several times its size, Myrdasjokull. We're feeling pretty dirty, but the hell with it. We're in Iceland, who cares about a little ash!
Let's rewind back to a time when we were clean. We left you last on our way to Þhingvellir, which is a national park on the site where Iceland's early settlers chose to have their national assembly, around 930 AD. Beauty and mountains and wildflowers and rocks and crags and awesomeness.
We stayed that night at Apartment K, as mentioned, and the next morning we checked out and headed to Bláa Lónið, or the Blue Lagoon. It was indeed everything it was cracked up to be. As someone wrote in the Apartment K guestbook, it was far less like Disneyland than expected. The water was like a warm, white-blue bath. We walked around, exploring the pools, relaxing, and giving ourselves silica mud masks. We also got a short but lovely water massage. After spending a good 4 hours pampering ourselves and taking a billion pictures (see our Flickr site here or here for just the highlights), we hit the road.
We drove for a few hours and, deciding to set up camp near Selfoss, we checked into Hótel Eldhestar, whose main foci are being eco-friendly and also... the Icelandic horse! There was horse art everywhere and a stable nearby from where guests can go on rides. We booked a ride for the next morning, then headed to a restaurant called Kaffi Krús for a late dinner. We both enjoyed the Selfossburger which, with it's combo of beef, bacon, cheese, tomato, and Bearnaise sauce, is famous the island over. NOM.
Around 10pm we finished dinner. Did we head back to Eldhestar and go to bed? Hell no! It wasn't even sunset!
[Driving after dinner]
Thayer: Whoa, it gets darker over here. The sun has set!
[We come around a mountain and the sun is still up -- had just been hiding on the other side of the mountain.]
Thayer: There's the sun!
Hayl: We're just going sightseeing at 10 pm. What?
Thayer: It's not like we were already sightseeing, either. It was 10pm and then we said, "Let's go sightseeing!"
We headed about an hour north to see Geysir. That's right. Geysir is its name. And every other geysir in the world is named after Geysir. Unfortunately, Geysir doesn't regularly perform anymore. Just on holidays when they put soap in him to make him spew. His neighbor Strokkur, though, puts on a show every 5 minutes or so. When we arrived, at about 11pm, mind, there were two men there with a rather large, expensive-looking video camera. Turns out, they're traveling the world shooting a History Channel show called "Gates of Hell" that will air in September. In medieval times, people were sure Geysir was a gate to hell. We just thought it was awesome.
After Geysir, we... continued sightseeing! Around midnight we got to Gulfoss — an immense, 2-tiered waterfall. Stunning stuff, made all the more surreal by the fact that it was the middle of the night, yet there was still plenty of light.
It started to look more dusk-like on our way home around 12:30am, which prompted us to get a little sleepy. Depending on the sun for our bodies' circadian cues is not really working. On the other hand, maybe it's working really well.
Still, we had to wear eye masks to bed at 1am because there was still enough light coming under the curtains to make you think you should be up and at 'em.
Next day, we got up and went Icelandic horseback riding with our lovely guide, Lina — a Swedish girl who summers in Iceland at the Eldhestar horse farm. We were the only ones on the tour, so she could spend extra time and patience teaching us to "tolt." Tolting is a thing Icelandic horses do that is between walking and trotting and is apparently supposed to be very smooth. Thayer seemed to pick it up like a pro. Me -- I was not able to synchronize the simultaneous rein-pulling, thigh-squeezing, and heel kicking that was required. Also, I have some heinous ankle bruises to show for the bang-bang-bang of the metal stirrups. Though definitely worse for the wear, I still loved it. It's hard to beat horseback riding through the Icelandic countryside.
We've been on the road the rest of the afternoon, stopping a few times to check out some interesting things on the roadside. For example, an ancient house built into the mountain side (so awesome) and a seemingly endless field of ash-covered, moss-covered lava rock. We are currently parked at said lava field while Thayer naps and I write. It's time we were on our way, though. Methinks we will lodge tonight near Skaftafell National Park. Perhaps a glacial lagoon boat tour is in our future.
Later!
-H
[After stopping by giant cliffs, wrapped at the bottom in a flowy green grass blanket -- possibly the most beautiful sight I've ever seen, complete with sheep]
Hayl: If I were someone else, I would totes envy us right now.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Iceland Update: Reykjavik
Keflavik Airport is so cool. It's all glass. Windows everywhere. It's a sunny day, so after we landed, we were just walking down these sunny tunnels on our way to baggage claim, basking... basking.
I am in love with the language here. Every time the airplane flight attendant made an announcement I had to stop what I was doing and just listen. It just falls out of peoples' mouths like a babbling brook -- tumbling over rocks and stones. It's absolutely enchanting.
We hopped in our Suzuki Swift and headed up the long, barren road to Reykjavik, blasting music, windows down, smelling the fresh ocean air and whooping like lunatics. When we got to the city around 8am, we were informed by the landlady of Apartment K (where we are staying) that today is a holiday -- the day Christ ascended into Heaven and was seated at the right hand of God -- and that businesses would open late, if at all. Heh heh. Happy Holidays, and all, but where is the coffee. Somebody give us the coffee.
She recommended heading down to Hverfisgata (that's a street name) to a cafe called the Grey Cat, or rather, Grai Kotturinn. Luckily it was open and we were able to pour the caffeine down our gullets. While there, we met Diana, who just finished her pre-reqs for med school in Boston and was alone until the afternoon, when she would meet up with her sister who just finished her Peace Corps run in Senegal.
We sat with Diana and chatted for an hour or so, then parted ways and walked around the cute, quiet downtown, looking out the tower of Hallgrimskirkje (a church) and buying Lopi sweaters like true Icelanders. We will fit right in when riding those Icelandic horses.
We have now checked into our room at Apartment K. Due to some major troubles in confirming our reservation, they upgraded us for free to a one bedroom flat with a million windows, magnificent views, and uber mod decorations to within an inch of its life. Life is good.
It's 50 degrees but apparently that means midsummer to these people, as nobody is wearing a jacket, and shorts are prevalent, as are very very short strappy dresses. Wha? I was nearly ready to don my Lopi when I saw a young woman prancing about practically in her skivvies. I guess if mid 60s is standard summer temps, 50 is pretty darn hot. More power to them.
We're off now, to somewhere. Maybe Þhingvellir National Park. It's late in the day, but since the sun will be out forever, we figure it really doesn't matter much. Now that we have coffee at our disposal. :)
Looooove,
H (& T)
I am in love with the language here. Every time the airplane flight attendant made an announcement I had to stop what I was doing and just listen. It just falls out of peoples' mouths like a babbling brook -- tumbling over rocks and stones. It's absolutely enchanting.
We hopped in our Suzuki Swift and headed up the long, barren road to Reykjavik, blasting music, windows down, smelling the fresh ocean air and whooping like lunatics. When we got to the city around 8am, we were informed by the landlady of Apartment K (where we are staying) that today is a holiday -- the day Christ ascended into Heaven and was seated at the right hand of God -- and that businesses would open late, if at all. Heh heh. Happy Holidays, and all, but where is the coffee. Somebody give us the coffee.
She recommended heading down to Hverfisgata (that's a street name) to a cafe called the Grey Cat, or rather, Grai Kotturinn. Luckily it was open and we were able to pour the caffeine down our gullets. While there, we met Diana, who just finished her pre-reqs for med school in Boston and was alone until the afternoon, when she would meet up with her sister who just finished her Peace Corps run in Senegal.
We sat with Diana and chatted for an hour or so, then parted ways and walked around the cute, quiet downtown, looking out the tower of Hallgrimskirkje (a church) and buying Lopi sweaters like true Icelanders. We will fit right in when riding those Icelandic horses.
We have now checked into our room at Apartment K. Due to some major troubles in confirming our reservation, they upgraded us for free to a one bedroom flat with a million windows, magnificent views, and uber mod decorations to within an inch of its life. Life is good.
It's 50 degrees but apparently that means midsummer to these people, as nobody is wearing a jacket, and shorts are prevalent, as are very very short strappy dresses. Wha? I was nearly ready to don my Lopi when I saw a young woman prancing about practically in her skivvies. I guess if mid 60s is standard summer temps, 50 is pretty darn hot. More power to them.
We're off now, to somewhere. Maybe Þhingvellir National Park. It's late in the day, but since the sun will be out forever, we figure it really doesn't matter much. Now that we have coffee at our disposal. :)
Looooove,
H (& T)
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Iceland Update: Somewhere really far north
We're on the plane. It's coming on bedtime but we're not really tired. Starting to be, but the excitement and nerves are making sleep impossible. Plus it's been one long sunny day for, like, ever.
Hayl: [starts giggling out of nowhere]
Thayer: What?
Hayl: I was just wondering how we're going to make it through this day without sleeping. [giggles intensify]
Thayer: Oh dear. You're crazy.
Hayl: Am I?
Thayer: [checks flight progress] Two hours till morning!
[both giggle maniacally]
We're flying over the ocean between Canada's super northerly islands and Greenland. The ice has given way to water, now. I can see icebergs dotting the black water like slightly-too-big misshapen stars in the sky. Before, it looked like giant white puzzle blocks laid out on a black backdrop -- more white than black.
After some calculations, I figure we'll be awake for at least 32 hours by the time we go to sleep. Here's to adventure!
Hayl: [starts giggling out of nowhere]
Thayer: What?
Hayl: I was just wondering how we're going to make it through this day without sleeping. [giggles intensify]
Thayer: Oh dear. You're crazy.
Hayl: Am I?
Thayer: [checks flight progress] Two hours till morning!
[both giggle maniacally]
We're flying over the ocean between Canada's super northerly islands and Greenland. The ice has given way to water, now. I can see icebergs dotting the black water like slightly-too-big misshapen stars in the sky. Before, it looked like giant white puzzle blocks laid out on a black backdrop -- more white than black.
After some calculations, I figure we'll be awake for at least 32 hours by the time we go to sleep. Here's to adventure!
Iceland Update: Seatac Airport
Here we are, ready to take off to Reykjavik. Already we are near actual Icelanders. They just called Ms. Somethingsdottir and Mr. Somethingsson to the desk. Real, live Icelanders are at this gate! It's like they're fictional fairy folk or something.
Why Iceland? I fear my answer is lame. Because I like Bjork. And Sigur Ros. They are Icelanders who make amazing music, and they've both said that the Icelandic landscape has been inspiration for much of their music. And I believe it. I've seen pictures.
That's the other answer to "Why Iceland?" Because I've seen pictures of this place and it's almost impossible to believe that it is of this planet. Volcanos and lakes and mountains and lava fields and glaciers and lagoons and darkness and sunlight. The butterflies beat against my ribcage in anticipation if seeing this strange land.
We will arrive in Reykjavik at our bedtime, but really it will be morning in Iceland. There will be no sleeping for us. We will be diving right in sans rest. Checking into Apartment K and heading out straightaway to explore the cute Capitol city.
After that... Who knows! We haven't planned what comes next. We'll drive. We'll see. We'll search. We'll find.
We'll update when we can!
Love love love.
H (&T)
Why Iceland? I fear my answer is lame. Because I like Bjork. And Sigur Ros. They are Icelanders who make amazing music, and they've both said that the Icelandic landscape has been inspiration for much of their music. And I believe it. I've seen pictures.
That's the other answer to "Why Iceland?" Because I've seen pictures of this place and it's almost impossible to believe that it is of this planet. Volcanos and lakes and mountains and lava fields and glaciers and lagoons and darkness and sunlight. The butterflies beat against my ribcage in anticipation if seeing this strange land.
We will arrive in Reykjavik at our bedtime, but really it will be morning in Iceland. There will be no sleeping for us. We will be diving right in sans rest. Checking into Apartment K and heading out straightaway to explore the cute Capitol city.
After that... Who knows! We haven't planned what comes next. We'll drive. We'll see. We'll search. We'll find.
We'll update when we can!
Love love love.
H (&T)
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