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
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