Wednesday, 2 October
Hella, Iceland
I made a promise to myself that I would not use the “R” and “F” words anymore — [R]ain and [F]og — to describe the weather that’s been the rule rather than the exception on our road trip!
No matter. I have a better word to describe the conditions we had to deal with today — C.R.A.P.P.Y!!! Maybe I should bold and underline that word, since it also describes our mood when we set off from the hotel this morning. The good news — our spirits improved as the day wore on.
The first thing I noticed when I woke up this morning was that the pain in my left foot had turned into a dull ache. Yay, I thought to myself. We could keep our plans to go hiking in Skaftafell, the national park that became part of the much larger Vatnajökull National Park when the latter was founded in 2008.
That thought didn’t last long, however … just until I slipped out of bed and took my first step of the day. Ay, ay, ay!!! The pain wasn’t as bad as last night, but there was no way I’d be able to do the 4.6-mile (7.4 km) hike we’d planned on the Svartifoss/Sjónarnípa trail. Time for Plan B!
But first — breakfast! The dining room was full, but we had no problems finding a table. The buffet offerings weren’t as extensive as they were at some of the other guesthouses, but the food was decent.
Foss á Siðu — today’s first stop — is a waterfall visible from the Ring Road.
By the time we were done with breakfast, we had a plan. Skaftafell was socked in by low-lying clouds, so going into the park made no sense. Better to move on down the road. Two things played into that decision. The first — the hotel lacked even a hint of ambiance. I’d mentioned in a previous post that this was a convenience-stop for us, and the tired décor simply did not invite us to stay if we were going to be indoors. The second — the nearest medical care, should I need to see a doctor, was closer to Hella, our next destination, than it was to Skaftafell.
Day 9 of our road trip takes us from Skaftafell to Hella (orange arrow to grey arrow).
We took a divide and counter approach to get our new plan rolling. Mui went to talk to the front desk about a refund for our second night at Skaftafell. He had to wait for the manager to come on duty; but, in the end, the refund was credited to our card. In the meantime, I pulled up the Booking.com website on the laptop. I had booked refundable reservations everywhere for possible weather-related changes, so I had no problems juggling the dates around. By the time Mui was back, I had new confirmations for each property. Time to get on the road!
175 miles [281 km], with plenty of roadside stops, and little in the way of hiking.
It was 10:00a by the time our wheels were rolling down the Ring Road. Since there was steady “R” and thick “F” — see, I’m not using those icky words — we skipped a few of the stops we had planned ... especially the ones that required considerable walking. With my left shoe tied loosely, I was able to limp short distances to see some of the attractions — like Foss á Siðu [Waterfall at Siðu], pictured above, and Stjórnarfoss [Government(?) Falls].
Stjórnarfoss is flanked by volcanic rocks.
One of the walks I had to give up today was to Kirkjugólf [church basement], not far from Stjórnarfoss. I was fascinated by this natural monument when I saw the photo below, and had been looking forward to seeing it in person. I was particularly bummed that my “bum foot” didn’t allow me to do this walk.
Columnar basalt, eroded and shaped by glaciers and waves.
Much of Iceland’s landscape is shaped by the country’s many volcanos. Lava fields are a prominent feature of the scenery. Our route took us through Eldhraun, which literally means lava fields [eldh = fire]. It’s one of two fields that was formed by a short-lived, but catastrophic eruption that lasted 9 months. Since the Ring Road cuts through this immense field, stopping to take a photo or two was an easy addition to today’s sightseeing list, and made up for the ones we missed.
Eldhraun is covered with wooly fringe moss that softens the lava landscape.
Near the town of Vík is Reynisfjara [fjara = beach]. A popular stop along the Ring Road, this black sand beach is known for its lovely scenery and basalt columns. Even though there was a good chance the scenery might be veiled by “F,” we decided to take a chance. I had read that we could get a good look at the basalt sea stacks of Reynisdrangar from a memorial site near town, so we headed there first.
according to local lore, the stacks of Reynisdrangar were formed when three trolls
tried to tow a three-masted ship to shore. Daybreak overtook them before they could
reach the safety of the mountains, and the ship, as well as the trolls, turned to stone.
The spur gravel road to the beach was in good shape, with just a few potholes. Once we arrived at Reynisfjara, we left the car in the parking lot, and I hobbled the short distance to the beach, stopping along the way to check out the distant, mist-veiled promontory named Dyrhólaey. Its name, which means “door hole,” comes from the arch eroded into the peninsula by the Atlantic Ocean.
There are three arches where the ocean meets Dyrhólaey. The big arch is easy to see.
How about one of the two smaller arches visible in this photo — can you see that one?
I wish I could say that we were at the beach to see puffins. Alas, they were long gone, and we knew that. Rather, we were there to check out Hálsanefshellir [neck(?) cave; perhaps in reference to its location]. This sea cave was formed by the ocean waves crashing into and eroding the basaltic columns of Reynisfjall.
Hálsanefshellir, with Skessudrangur (right), one of the three trolls that turned into a sea stack.
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Mui provides perspective for how tall the basalt columns are.
No puffins, but there are gulls nesting in the cliffs.
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We had two opportunities to do a glacier hike on this trip. The first one was at Skaftafell; the weather didn’t cooperate. The second one was this afternoon. Though the weather wasn’t much better for hiking Sólheimajökull, what put the kibosh on this one was my “bum” foot.
We’ve done glacier hikes on our polar adventures, so we didn’t mind too much that we had to take a pass on the guided walk. That didn’t mean that we couldn’t go see the glacier. But first we had to be able to negotiate the bumpy, pothole strewn dirt and gravel road. It was sloooow going, but we managed the road fine with our 4x4 wheels. Perhaps the road is better in the summer, but I’d be hesitant to drive it with anything but a 4x4. The walk through the outwash field to the glacier’s snout was easy and got us close to one of the dirtiest glaciers we’ve seen in our travels.
Glaciers are moving rivers of ice; they are always changing — receding at times; growing at other times. A tongue of the Myrsdaljökull ice cap, this glacier has been alternating between advancing and retreating. Its most recent advance was between 1974 and 1995, when it advanced over ¼-mile (400 m) and put the area in serious danger of flooding. Currently it is retreating — at a pretty fast pace of 300+ feet/year (100 m/y). This explains the “dirty” snout we saw today.
The hiking group provides perspective for the size of Sólheimajökull —
keep in mind that this is a tiny portion of the glacier.
We were very aware of the fact that the land we were traversing had been, in years past, covered by ice, and that the features around us had been formed by the movements of Sólheimajökull — a 5 mile (8 km) long glacier that is more than ½-mile (1 km) wide has the power to change the landscape dramatically. Not wishing to fall into a crevasse, we kept off the glacier, and also stayed away from the ice bridges we found along the margins. The lateral moraine at the edge was plenty close for us and afforded a safe perch from which to view the glacier.
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The melt water from Sólheimajökull is carried off by the Jökulsá á Sólheimasandi. The water combines with sulfur from the geothermal field that lies beneath the ice cap from which the glacier is born, and forms the rotten egg smell that people associate with thermally active areas. There was no such smell today, so we were lucky — that smell is an indication of hydrogen sulfide, which can be dangerous when it is produced in large concentrations.
One of the advantages of doing our road trip during this time of the year is the lack of crowds — particularly, tour groups. We’ve pretty much had the sights to ourselves, sharing them with just a few people in some places. That changed this afternoon. At our last two stops — waterfalls in close proximity to the Ring Road, and often on daytrip itineraries from Reykjavík — there were several busloads of visitors. The good news is that they were on a schedule and didn’t stick around for long.
By the time we arrived at Skógafoss, the first of the two waterfalls, it was drizzling quite heavily. The name of the waterfall translates as “Forest Falls.” As far as I know, there is only one forest in Iceland, and that’s nowhere near here, so I thought the name odd … then again, perhaps this was forest lands at one time, long long ago. Doing the hike along the cliff was not in the cards, so we made do with a stroll to the face of the falls, but stayed a considerable distance away to keep the cameras from getting wet by the mist being thrown up from its base.
Nearby signage related a local lore associated with the falls …
Legend has it that Þrasi, the Viking who setteld in Skógar, hid a chest of gold behind the waterfall. Later, a young lad attempted to retrieve the treasure, but only managed to grasp a ring on the side of the chest before it disappeared once more. The ring was affixed to the church door at Skógar, and is now the pride of the local museum. When the sun is shining, you can still see traces of Þrasi’s gold in the shimmering spray of the waterfall.
I think the story was born from sightings of the double-rainbow that appears when the sun strikes the heavy mist of Skógafoss just right. No sun today, so neither rainbows, nor a chest of gold for us.
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The falls are formed by the Skógá River where it tumbles down a cliff
that marks what was once Iceland’s coastline.
If you’ve seen the previously posted teaser, you know that the second waterfall we visited today was Seljalandsfoss. You also know that what makes this waterfall unique is that visitors can walk behind it without getting too terribly wet — if they have the appropriate raingear. We did. After taking the requisite photos of the face of the falls, we went to check it out from behind. The trail was muddy, and slippery, but it wasn’t too bad … worth it for the different perspective we got of the Seljlandsá [á = river] plummeting over the cliff and into a pool of water at the base of the falls.
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Seljalandsfoss — front and back. This waterfall also plummets from
a cliff that marks the old coastline of Iceland.
This final stop scratched off today’s itinerary, it was time to head to the guesthouse I had booked for tonight. When we were planning our trip, we tried to make reservations at a guesthouse in Hella that came highly recommended. Turns out, the owner goes on vacation this time of the year. He was nice enough to suggest another guesthouse, however — one that he said was owned by a nice, young couple.
Located 6 miles [10 km] outside Hella, Hótel Lækur [lækur = brook] began operating as a guesthouse in the fall of 2012. In the short time since, it has already been selected by the Daily Telegraph as one of the 12 best hotels in Iceland for aurora viewing — darn … low cloud deck tonight. After leaving the Ring Road, we traveled on deserted roads for quite a while, wondering if we were on the right track. Once we arrived, however, we were delighted by what we found.
The young couple who operate the establishment moved out of what was their home
and converted it into a guesthouse; they live in a small house on the farm.
[Our room is #2 — on the ground floor, with the light on.]
Room #2 is one two rooms that has a door to access the rest
of the guesthouse without going outside.
I had booked our accommodations through Booking.com, and since they sent an email confirmation, I had no reason to go to the website. Turns out that if you want to dine in, you have to pre-order your meal. Since we had not done so, we were all set to dig into our own stores for a simple dinner. The owner, however, offered an alternative — for a small charge, they could come up with a light meal. Sounded good to us. He placed a call to the cook/waitress, and while we were settling in, she put together a meal that consisted of creamy cauliflower soup, crusty farm bread still warm from the oven, and shavings of smoked salmon.
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A simple meal made with fresh ingredients.
After dinner, I grabbed my laptop and we went up to the cozy lounge on the second floor. The only other guests were still out, and the owner had left to go home. Val, who had prepared our meal, was gone to her own home. Amidst the owner’s personal memorabilia, soft music playing in the background, handmade afghans keeping our legs warm … we felt like we were at home, too.
The second floor lounge is a great place to relax.
Had we not canceled tomorrow’s super jeep tour into the highlands — not fun in inclement weather — we’d be staying at Hotel Lækur two nights. Now, I almost wish I had kept our two-night booking. But, moving on to our next destination actually works better with the remainder of our itinerary, so it’s a good thing that I made the change. We would definitely return here should we someday find ourselves in Iceland again.
P.S. My foot is less sore tonight. Keeping the shoe off while we were driving, and babying it by staying off of it for most of the day helped. Didn’t need to seek medical attention today; something for which to be grateful.
