An Iceland Retrospective … As We Travel to Turkey

Monday, 7 October
From Iceland to Turkey

I’ll be writing this post in increments as we make our way from Iceland to Turkey today to begin the next segment of our three and a half-month vacation — almost half of which is already behind us.

At Keflavíkurflugvöllur — Keflavík, Iceland …

We’re settled in the departures lounge of the Leifur Eiríksson Air Terminal at Keflavík International Airport.   It’s 6:00a … 55 minutes until boarding commences.  Time enough to get started on today’s blog post.

The proprietors of Hótel Berg are used to their guests leaving in the wee hours of the morning to catch a flight from the airport, which is just an 8-minute drive down the road — I timed it when we went to check out the drop-off point for Blue Car Rental on Saturday.  So, when we went to the dining room at 4:15a, the breads and whatnot were on the counter.  The cold items — such as juice, milk, butter, Skyr — were in a small fridge; just where we’d been told they would be.  We just helped ourselves, making sure to leave things tidy when we were done.

By 4:45a, we were ready to head to the airport.  The front door was locked, but we’d been warned about that and told to use the door in the wing that had been added on to the house.  Five minutes later we were on our way to the airport.  Returning the car was a cinch, and once the paperwork was completed, the Blue Car rep drove us to the departures terminal.

Checking in at the Iceland Air counter took a matter of minutes; we even managed to snag a couple of exit row seats … and didn’t have to pay for the privilege ;-)  As well, the agent checked our bags all the way to İzmir, even though that flight was ticketed separately.  Going through security was easy peasy too, leaving us with plenty of time to browse the shops and pick up a couple of gifts.  A great start to our travel day.

Keflavík International Airport

Boarding is being called … more when we’re in the air.

In the air — Somewhere over the North Sea …

A smooth boarding was followed by an on-time pushback at 7:25a for Iceland Air flight FI520.  A colorful sunrise was bathing the sky in pinks and lavenders as the Boeing 757-200 that is carrying us to Germany quietly rose from the runway.  We’re already an hour into the 3½-hour flight.  I’m going to use the remaining time to look back on our Iceland road-trip — in no specific order.

• Was two weeks enough?  Short answer — no; not for us.  As slow travelers, we felt a bit rushed.
  
  What would I do next time: add two to four more weeks to the trip; or narrow the focus to just one or two areas if I can’t extend the time in-country.  Both of these options would allow for a slower pace with more downtime; more in-depth exploration.
• Clockwise or counter-clockwise?  Keeping weather considerations in mind, we wanted to do the northern portion of the trip first, so we went counter-clockwise.
  
  What would I do next time: assuming we do another Ring Road trip … not sure; time of year would again dictate our decision.

Our two-week counter-clockwise road trip at a glance!
[click for a larger image]

• Shoulder season or high season?  Our trip fell during the shoulder season for travel in Iceland.  This was necessarily so because this trip was tacked on to take advantage of Reykjavík being the debarkation port for the second leg of our Greenland voyages.
  
  The upside to traveling during the shoulder season …
  • Overnight accommodations were discounted; and we got a considerably better rate on the car rental.
  • We had almost every place we visited to ourselves, sharing a few places with just a couple of other people; even at the most popular attractions, the crowds were manageable.

The downside of traveling during the shoulder season …

• Many of the museum-type attractions were already closed.
• Birds that nest in Iceland were long gone.
• Roads in the interior of the country were all-but closed.

What would I do next time: I wouldn’t dismiss shoulder season travel entirely.  That said, the time frame would depend on the focus of the trip, keeping in mind the points listed under the downsides of shoulder season travel.

• Weather?  I could have included this under the shoulder/high season consideration, but decided it deserved its own topic.  (A special point about how the weather affected us is at the end of the retrospective.)
  
  Weather is a crapshoot.  Seasons are no longer as reliable as they used to be.  In researching this trip, I read a lot of blogs; looked at a lot of photos.  In every trip report, weather seemed to be a mixed bag of good and not-so-good.  We were prepared to have our share of the not-so-good, but ended up with more wet days than blue-sky days.  It should be said, however, that this was partly due to a low pressure system anomaly.
  
  What would I do next time: nothing where the weather itself is concerned, since I have no control over it.  I would however, keep the focus of the trip in mind and build in downtime to wait out any particularly bad weather we might encounter.

No matter the angle from which one views Stóra Víti, sunshine and blue skies
greatly enhance the view and the experience.

• Four-wheel drive or not?  We debated this long and hard, and ended up renting a 4x4, hoping to drive some of the F-roads.  Turns out that the ones we were interested in were already closed for the season.  Still, we were glad to have a 4x4, as it gave us a sense of security when we opted to drive unpaved secondary roads.
  
  P.S.  By the way, we were very pleased with Blue Car Rental, and would use them again.
  
  What would I do next time: consider a smaller four-wheel drive vehicle; otherwise … nothing.
• Pre-book Lodgings or not?  We pre-booked all of our accommodations — some with en suite facilities; some with shared facilities.  Some of the hotels/guest houses were chosen for convenience; others were chosen based on good reviews by travelers.  We were pleased with every place we stayed, but were admittedly charmed more by some of them.  We opted for slightly higher rates that allowed for last-minute cancellations — which we took advantage of to adjust our itinerary a few times.
  
  What would I do next time: depends on the time of year.  For a high season trip, I would pre-book everything.  For a shoulder season trip, I’d pre-book a few key locations for multi-night stays, and play the rest of it by ear — making reservations a day or two in advance of our arrival.  I would still pay the slightly higher rates to retain cancellation flexibility.

Each place we stayed at had a different character.

One final point.  A friend recently commented about our fortitude in dealing with the dreary, wet weather we had during our trip.  If the trip posts made it sound like we didn’t have our ‘down’ moments, that wasn’t my intention.  There certainly were times when we were glum and dispirited … hard not to be when faced with such contrary weather for so many days in a row.   There were times when we sniped at each other for no good reason.  But when that happened, we told ourselves to get over it and focus on the ‘gems’ instead.  So why didn’t I explicitly touch on those moments?  Because the ‘gems’ outweighed the ‘pieces of coal’ … and it’s the positives I want to remember and not the fleeting moments of the doldrums.

In the air — Somewhere over Europe …

I didn’t have time to write about our layover at the Rhein-Main Flughafen in Frankfurt, Germany while we were on the ground.  So I will begin there.

Our Iceland Air flight landed on time at 12:55p [11:55a Iceland time].  Winding our way around Terminal 1, we found the Turkish Airlines (THY) counter where we got boarding passes not only for the flight to İstanbul, but the continuing leg to İzmir.  And managed to get exit row seats for both flights.  Good travel luck holding so far!

Remember how our bags were checked all the way through to İzmir by the Iceland Air agent?  Well, when THY verified our forward flights, they didn’t see any bags checked through for us.  After a little detective work we figured out that the bags were tagged for the late flight we were initially booked on out of İstanbul.  Hmmm!

Anyway, once we had our boarding passes, we stopped by a deli to pick up a caprese sandwich before continuing onto our gate.  Rhein-Main is Germany’s largest airport; third largest in Europe.  It is one of those airports that we find to be quite convoluted and difficult to navigate.  We try to avoid it when we can, but on this trip it offered the best connection schedule.  Even with an almost three-hour layover, we barely had time to wolf down our sandwich before our flight was called.

Boarding — as seems to be the norm for a lot of flights in Europe — was a no-holds-barred event.  Expecting this, we queued up at the turnstile as soon as the flight was called and were amongst the first to board TK1592.  The Airbus 321 pushed back at 3:20p — just 10 minutes behind schedule.  As the aircraft rumbled towards the runway, the stewardesses came through the cabin with trays of lokum — aka Turkish Delight.  A sweet start to our flight.  Even sweeter — there’s no one in the seat next to me!

Lokum is a chewy candy.  Click the photo for one of the many recipes available online.

Even before we were leveled off at cruising altitude, the in-cabin service for which THY is known began.  First came the beverages, including wine and spirits at no charge; then came what one might consider Linner — a late lunch/early dinner.  The menu from what THY describes as “our restaurant above the clouds” included: zeytinyağlı barbunya (kidney beans cooked in olive oil); a choice of chicken satay served with ratatouille and rice, or köfte (Turkish beef patties) served with sautéed eggplants and potatoes au gratin; and bademli kek (almond cake) for dessert.  Airline food is edible at best, but THY somehow manages to serve very tasty food.  Sorry no photos; my camera was in my carry-on in the overhead bin.

Star Trek Into the Darkness is one of the choices offered by the in-flight entertainment system.  Now that I am caught up with our thus far uneventful travel day, I’m going to put the laptop away and watch the movie.  [Click the poster for more information about the movie; be aware that the website opens with an embedded audio of the theme music … just in case you are reading this at work :-)] … more later.

Arrived — in İzmİr …

Despite a 25-minute delay getting off the ground in Frankfurt, TK1592 was 10 minutes early arriving at Atatürk Airport in İstanbul, Turkey … a good thing.  Even with a two-hour layover, we made it to our departure gate just in time to hear the flight being called.

Based on past experience — too long to recount here — we weren’t sure if we’d have to collect our bags in İstanbul before going through customs?  Turns out, we didn’t.  We went through immigration and customs in a jiffy, using the lanes for international visitors because it was shorter.  Next we went to the THY counter to ask about our luggage.  “No, our bags aren’t missing,” we told the agent, “we just want to make sure they are on the same flight we’re on to İzmir.”  Assured that they were, we made our way to the domestic terminal, arriving just in time to queue up for the final leg of today’s travels.

Two airlines and three flights bring us from Reykjavík to İzmİr.

TK2340 was wheels up and bound for İzmir at 9:30p.  I’ve flown this route many times over the years, and it never ceases to amaze me that THY manages to not only serve beverages, but also food during this 40-minute flight.  Tonight’s meal service was served in a box designed to look like a picnic basket, and it consisted of a salad and sandwich, and chocolate mousse to top it off.  The plane was already descending to İzmir’s Adnan Menderes Airport (ADB) even as the cabin crew was collecting the last of the service items.

Unlike Atatürk Airport, ADB is not very busy — especially not late at night.  On the ground at 10:15a, the aircraft was at the jetway in short order.  As we had gone through customs in İstanbul, all we had to do was to pick up our luggage.

But where were our bags?  We waited at the baggage carousel until all of the bags had been off-loaded, but ours weren’t amongst them.  Off to the lost luggage counter we went to report our bags as missing.  In the back of our minds we knew they were still in İstanbul, awaiting transport on the 11:00p flight we had initially been booked on.  At this point, we just wanted to make sure they would not be left behind because we were not on that flight.  “Don’t worry; they’re already scanned and in the cargo bay,” the attendant told us.  He then gave us a choice: wait an hour and collect the bags ourselves, or they would deliver them to an address we designated.  We chose the latter option, completed the paperwork to have the bags delivered to mom’s address, and left to find Aylin and Murat who were patiently waiting for us just outside the secure area.

Traffic at that late hour was nil.  By the time the flight we were originally booked on was taking off from İstanbul, we were saying hello to mom, who was waiting for us at her apartment.  Although we were tired, the adrenaline was flowing after a long travel day.  We stayed up and chatted for a bit before everyone retired to bed.  Mui had no trouble falling asleep, but my brain was still a-buzz, so I decided to finish up today’s blog post.  That’s done now, so perhaps I’ll be able to relax enough to fall asleep — we have a breakfast date to keep tomorrow this morning.

From the Bridge to the Geothermal Fields … Exploring the Reykjanes Geopark

Sunday, 6 October (Part II)
Keflavík, Iceland

OK … now that I’ve finished writing about the non-geology sites we visited on today’s drive around the Reykjanes Peninsula (post here), it’s time to highlight the geo features we explored.

As I noted in the previous post, the peninsula was formally established as the Reykjanes Geopark in 2012, with admission to the UNESCO Global Geopark Network pending.

Reykjanes Geopark — starting from the closest point to us, we tour counterclockwise.
[blue circles = places we visited today; white boxes = places we visited yesterday]
inset map shows the Peninsula (circled) in relation to the rest of Iceland.
[base map from sandgerði.is website]

The Visit Reykjanes booklet describes a geopark as …

… a territory, which includes a particular geological heritage and a sustainable territorial development strategy.  It must have clearly defined boundaries and sufficient surface area for true territorial development.

The Reykjanes Geopark covers the peninsula of Reykjanes, one of the world’s most interesting geological sites, where the Mid-Atlantic Ridge rises above sea level.  It is a region of star attractions like endless lava fields, geothermal wonders, abundance of hot springs, volcanic craters, spectacular cliffs, and the relentless pounding surf all along its coastline. …

Of the many Reykjanes attractions that fit the above description, the first one we visited was the Bridge Between Continents in Sandvík [#20 on the map].  Considering the vast Atlantic Ocean that lies between America and Europe, you would think that bridging the two continents would be an enormous undertaking.  Not really … and I have the proof.

Leif the Lucky’s Bridge is named to honor Leifur Eiríksson,
the first European to travel to North America.
left side is America … right side is Europe.

OK, so it’s only a footbridge, but it is a bridge nonetheless.  In this spot, the constant tug of war between forces below the earth’s crust caused a collision that raised the Mid-Atlantic Ridge to the surface, thus rendering it visible to our eyes.  These same forces are continuing to exert their influence on the ridge, forcing the North American and Eurasian tectonic plates to pull apart at a rate of .8 inches (2 cm) a year.

Our footprints between the New World (left) and the Old World (right).

According to an article I read, the bridge is 66 feet (20 m) long at this point.  On the surface, given the drift rate and the length of the bridge, that means that the separation here evolved in 1,000 years, give or take a few.  I’m no geologist, but that seems an incredibly short period of time for such a wide separation to have occurred.  My guess is that the initial fissure had some help from forces below the surface before the land was uplifted, and continued to receive ‘growth-help’ from earthquakes afterwards.  But I’d better stop right here before I get myself in trouble with all the geologists out there for forming my own theories ;-)

Standing between the continents.  How do I know? …

… from this sign on the bridge.

If only getting from Europe to America in real life was as quick as walking across this bridge.

Looking towards the Atlantic Ocean puts North America on the right and Europe on the left.

After taking a lunch break at Reykjanestá, Iceland’s furthest southwest point, we followed a rut-filled dirt road to the high-temperature geothermal area of Gunnuhver [#15 on the map].  Once the site of geysers, today only solfataras [mud pools] and fumaroles [steam vents] remain in this group, which is part of the geothermal field of Kísilhóll.

Our lunch spot was on the other side of Bæjarfell,
the hill on which stands Reykjanesviti, Iceland’s most popular lighthouse.

The signage at the head of the boardwalk leading to the steaming mud-crater of Gunnuhver explained that the area is named for the ghost of Guðrun Önundardóttir.  Nicknamed Gunna, she was …

… a dirt poor crofter deeply in debt to her landlord.  When Gunna failed to to pay her rent, he took away her only property — a cooking pot.

Furious, Gunna cursed the landlord, and promptly dropped dead.  On the way to the cemetery, the men carrying her coffin noticed that it became suspiciously lighter.  As they were digging her grave, they heard a voice saying, “No need to dig deep; don’t plan to lie long.”  It was the vengeful ghost of Gunna speaking.

The next night, the landlord’s body was found on the heath, all bruised and broken — Gunna had exacted her revenge.  Soon, the whole peninsula was being haunted by her ghost.  The locals sought help from the pastor at Vogsósar, who was a known sorcerer.  He gave them a ball of yarn and told them to lay it down.  Gunna would pick up the end of the yarn and follow the rolling ball to a place from which she could no longer do harm.  Thus, Gunna fell into a big mud spring — today known as Gunnuhver.

It’s said that those with second sight can see and hear her running and howling at the edge of the crater.  Hmmm.  Don’t know about seeing her through the thick steam emanating from the crater, but I wonder if all that hissing and moaning was Gunna begging to be rescued!  Or worse, was she railing against her fate and raining curses down on those visiting the geothermal field that carries her name :-o

The boardwalk leads to …

… Gunnuhver — said to be the largest mud pot in Iceland.

What makes this area special is that part of the water that gets heated geothermally comes from the Atlantic Ocean, which is not that far away.  This water has a high salt and silica content, the latter being deposited in such quantities over the years as to form small hills.  When the nearby power plant went online in 2006, it increased the geothermal activity in the field, causing Gunnuhver to start growing in 2007.  In fact, the activity reached such levels that the area had to be closed to visitors between 2008-2010.

It was probably a landscape similar to this one that led to
the peninsula being named Reykjanes, which translates as “smoky.”

From Gunnuhver, we got on Route 425 to continue east.  Our next stop was at Brimketill [#14 on the map], which translates as “Surf Kettle.”  It’s an area of lava formations near Staðarberg where the pounding surf has formed a natural pool.  We made it to the edge of the lava cliffs where they overlook the Atlantic Ocean, but I’m pretty sure we didn’t actually find Brimketill (photo here).  Not sure why we missed it — perhaps we didn’t walk in the right direction … no marked path to follow; or maybe we just didn’t walk far enough.  The more likely reason, I think, is that we were distracted by the pounding surf crashing ashore and spraying high up above the cliffs — not unlike a geyser, but in a more explosive, helter-skelter manner.

The pounding surf comes into a shallow basin, hits the cliffs, and sprays high and wide …

… before draining back out, …

… only to repeat the process over and …

… over again — but this time as an animated gif image so you can experience
virtually what we experienced in person!  Keep an eye out for the rainbow.

Somehow, we managed to stay dry despite all the water flying around in the air each time the breakers exploded.  Eventually, we pulled ourselves away and got back on Route 427 to connect with Route 42, where we made the final stop of our drive at Seltún [#2 on the map].  Part of the Krýsuvík geothermal area, this group of hot springs is easily accessed from the road.

The area closest to the parking lot was crowded.  So, we made our way up towards the top, hoping to hike up to the ridge for a bird’s eye view of the steam-spewing solfataras and fumaroles.  Once we got to the end of the boardwalk, we found the trail to be very slippery, with the clay-like consistency of the wet ground sucking at our shoes.  Instead of continuing further up, we returned to the boardwalk for a meandering walk back down to the parking lot.

A high-temperature geothermal area, Seltún belongs to one of the four
volcanic systems that lie along the eruptive fault on the Reykjanes Peninsula.
In the distance is a glimpse of Kleifarvatn, the largest lake on the peninsula.

From Seltún, we continued north to connect to Route 41 for the drive west to Keflavík, thus completing our circumnavigation of the Reykjanes Peninsula.  We were back at Hótel Berg by 6:00p.  Too tired to look for someplace new, we walked to Kaffi Duus for dinner.  Keeping in mind the lesson we learned last night about the portion sizes, we ordered just one main course this time — a seafood salad that consisted of a plateful of greens topped with plenty of shrimp (for me) and mussels (for Mui); we shared the lobster.

Fresh seafood served on a bed of greens.

Tonight’s eftírréttir [dessert] was Ísbomba … an ice cream ‘bomb’ topped with fresh fruit.  The mango ice cream was good; as was the chocolate ice cream.  But there was way too much whipped cream.  We’d tell the waitress to hold three scoops of the cream next time.  Oh wait, there won’t be a next time will there?

Ísbomba

Today was not only our longest day of sightseeing, but also our most prolific one in terms of the number of sights we visited.  The weather cooperated so well with our fluid plans that we didn’t have to scratch off any of the places on our list.  A great ending to our Iceland road trip.

Tomorrow we have an early flight out from Keflavík International.  Even as we leave Iceland behind, we’ll be starting the next segment of our vacation … lots to look forward to.

Churches, Lighthouses, and Art … of the Reykjanes Peninsula

Sunday, 6 October (Part I)
Keflavík, Iceland

A good night’s rest … a dawdle-a-bit kind of morning.  It was 8:30a by the time we went to the dining room — prime time for breakfast.  I think everyone who was staying at the guesthouse was there.  But, anxious to get going — be it for sightseeing or to get out to the airport — no one was hanging around for long.  By the time we filled our plates, and made ourselves a couple of waffles, we had our pick of tables.

It was cold — only 37F (3C) — when we set out.  But there wasn’t much wind, and we had plenty of sunshine and blue skies — thank you Mother Nature for this gift on our last day in Iceland!

Reykjanes Geopark — starting from the closest point to us, we tour counterclockwise.
[blue circles = places we visited today; white boxes = places we visited yesterday]
inset map shows the Peninsula (circled) in relation to the rest of Iceland.
[base map from sandgerði.is website]

Our plan for the day was to explore the lunar-like landscape of the Reykjanes Peninsula.  In 2012, the peninsula was formally established as a geopark.  As one might suspect from the name, such a park would have many geologic features.  You’ll see none of that in this post, however.  Why?  Because we added variety to our day by mixing in stops at other spots of interest as well.  We ended up having such a full day that I’m splitting the post in two  — one that covers everything but the geology sites; and one that covers the geo features.  So, let’s get going.

Our first stop was at Útskálakirkja [#32 on the map], a church that was consecrated in 1863.  Bones found under the church when it was being renovated in 2007 are said to be associated with one of the most tragic events in Iceland’s sea history.  The story dates back to 1685 when 10 fishing vessels were lost at sea in a storm offshore.  Over a period of two days, the bodies of 89 of the fishermen washed ashore and were buried in a mass grave on the land where the church was built nearly 200 years later.

Útskálakirkja

Our next stop was at the northernmost point of the peninsula — Garðskagi [#30 on the map].  There’s a folk museum here, but it was closed today.  Actually, that was OK by us since we were there to see the lighthouse — or more accurately, the lighthouses … as in two of them.

Nýi Vitinn (new lighthouse) and an old fishing boat (foreground);
and Gamli Vitinn (old lighthouse) in the distance.

The first mention of a lighthouse on Garðskaga was in 1847.  Little more than a cairn, with an iron pole sticking out from it, this pile of rocks served as a navigational aid to mariners until Gamli Vitinn [old lighthouse] was built 50 years later.  The light was fueled by gas, and the lens was turned by a weight-driven clock mechanism, which the keeper had to hand-crank every four hours.  Attached to the lighthouse was a small, concrete shack where the keeper lived — until, in later years, the breakers were deemed too dangerous and he was moved to a keeper’s house on shore.

“Monuments will weather with time, but the actions of those who served and
the principles for which they stood will never fade, so long as we remember.”

From the bronze plaque presented to the people of Iceland by the survivors of the US Coast
Guard Cutter Alexander Hamilton, on the occasion of the 50th anniversary of the rescue
of the sailors after the boat was torpedoed by a German u-boat on 22 January 1942.
[the full story is here.]

One of the main reasons for building Nýi Vitinn [new lighthouse] in 1944 was that the ocean had eroded much of the coastline where the old lighthouse stood.  The light from the original lighthouse was moved to the new one, but the power source was changed from gas to electricity.  Constructed of concrete, the new structure is the highest lighthouse in Iceland. 

With a height of 92 feet (28 m), Nýi Vitinn is the tallest lighthouse in Iceland.

Constructed in 1944, the lighthouse is as old as the Republic of Iceland.

Fisherman’s Woman

Back in the car, we started to drive to our next destination.  We didn’t get far, however.  On the grass in front of a red-roofed yellow house — itself quite photogenic — we found some pink-footed geese parading in the morning sun.

Pink-Footed Geese

In the fishing village of Sandgerði [#29 on the map], we stopped at the Science and Learning Center on the off-chance that it was open — it wasn’t.  So, we continued on, driving slowly and stopping to take photos of whatever caught our eye — which turned out to be murals and sculptures.

Rusty the Crab?
Not really, but I thought the name appropriate considering the medium the artist used.

Hverfill — commemorates 100 years of powered fishing vessels.

Alög — honors seamen, and reminds us of how small and insignificant
human existence can be when dealing with the powerful ocean.

Continuing along Route 45, our next stop was at Hvalsneskirkja [#28 on the map].  Consecrated in 1887, the church was constructed of local stones, with the interior built from driftwood collected from the shoreline.

Stafnesviti [#27 on the map], a lighthouse that was built in 1925 was our next stop.  Parking in a small lot at the head of the trail leading to the ocean, we stopped to check out a small memorial before continuing down to the shoreline — where we found the lighthouse … and something we had not bargained on seeing!

Memorial to the Jón Forseti, a trawler that ran aground on the Stafnes skerries
in 1928.  Fifteen of the 25 men aboard drowned.  This and other similar incidents
led to the establishment of the Life Saving Association of Iceland.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a brilliant yellow lighthouse before!

The decomposing carcass of a whale wasn’t something we thought we would see today.
The farmer we ran into near the parking lot told us that it was stranded six weeks ago.

mobile equine water station.

Connecting to Route 44, we headed south for a quickie stop at Kirkjuvogur [Cove Church].  Here we hoped to get a quick peek at the ruins of a house abandoned sometime in the 8th or 9th century … believed to be the home of one of Iceland’s first permanent settlers.  The dig site was roped off, however, so we settled for a quick photo or two of the church and cemetery before moving on.

Our next stop was at the Bridge … Oh wait!  Need to skip over that one as it was a geologic feature.  Fast forward down the road … to the next stop that fits the theme of this post.

Reykjanestá [#17 on the map], is the furthest southwest tip of Iceland.  This is where Reykyanesviti [#16 on the map], the country’s most popular lighthouse, is located.  It was built in 1907 to replace an older one that was damaged during an earthquake in 1905.  Thanks to its location atop Bæjarfell, a highpoint on the cliffs of Reykjanestá, its height of 85 feet
(26 m) is boosted to 226 feet (69 m) above sea level. 

We took advantage of the picnic tables here to have an al fresco lunch — albeit a quick one as the wind was strong; and the temperature much colder than the 41F (5C) the car’s temperature gauge showed.  Nonetheless, we enjoyed the views of the Atlantic Ocean and Eldey [#18 on the map], a 253 feet (77 m) high rock protruding out of the water 9 miles (14 km) off the coast.

In addition to the scenery, something else that made our lunch spot special was the Great Auk Memorial.  Known also by names such as garefowl, penguin, pinwing, gordo, moyacks, and wobble, the great auk was a flightless bird that lived its life at sea.  By the 1800s, the only remaining population was found on an island refuge off the coast of Iceland.  In 1830, the island submerged after a volcanic eruption.  The few birds that survived took refuge on Eldey, where the last pair was killed on 3 June 1844 in order to provide specimens for a merchant.  Today, the island is home to one of the world’s largest gannet colonies.

The Great Auk looks towards where it took refuge on Eldey …
only to be killed at the hands of man.

A sad note on which to end this post …