Upon leaving the south, we hit one of my favorite spots in Iceland: the Snæfellsnes peninsula. Unfortunately, since no one had talked it up or said there was much to see there, we only booked one night.
WHY DID NO ONE MENTION THIS PLACE? THERE WERE LITERALLY
RAINBOWS
EVERYWHERE
Also on the way we stopped in Borgarnes for some delicious pastries and found Ben Stiller. The Secret Life of Walter Mitty was actually one of the reasons we considered Iceland, so it's fun to look out the window and see one of the exact spots he was standing.
We spent the night in Olafsvik, a smallish fishing town towards the northwestern side of the peninsula. To get there we had to drive a gravel road up and over a mountain, which our poor tin can "Sheepish" had some trouble with. But the view driving down was astounding. As both Ashlen and I had been a bit too tied to our phones, we decided to put them down and enjoy the rest of our time in Olafsvik without them.
But just so you know, if you decide to spend the night in Olafsvik, head outside at night and check out the lighted waterfall with the geometrically interesting church in the foreground.
Also, never double lock your door. I accidentally did, and the lock broke. Our wonderful hosts were very accommodating and helped us haul our bags out the window after forcing it open, getting Ashlen through the window to try the lock, unsuccessfully trying to drill through the lock, and then getting Ashlen back out the window. Thankfully they had another room available and gave us a partial refund as an apology, while we laughed at the entire thing and were glad we had another story to add to this crazy adventure.
Akureyri was our next stop, a mere 5.5 hours' drive away. Despite that our host convinced us we had to see the tip of the peninsula if we could, so we added some time to the journey and took in some of the sights.
The weather was constantly on the edge of rain or sun, with fog drifting through the mountains. One of the first stops we made was a massive crater right on the side of the road.
We took a breathless hike up some stairs, seemingly designed to wind us, to the top for a great look at the countryside around. Once thing was clear, we were surrounded by old volcanos...that were hopefully going to stay old.
Further down towards the southwestern tip was Djúpalónssandur, a beautiful beach populated by old Viking lifting stones, where you could test your strength and see if you qualified to get on to a Viking ship (I did...barely). Rusted pieces of an old shipwreck also littered the area.
There was an option to take a long hike from here along the rest of the coast, but pressed for time, we continued onwards.
Next up was an unsuccessful trip up a mountain to touch the local glacier. Our host had told us our car could handle it. The potholes and large incline disagreed.
So instead we turned around and headed to Arnarstapi for a walk along the cliffs and to check out the birds that nest there.
This was the point where I really wished we had more than a couple hours. The sun had come out, the cliffs were beautiful, massive holes led down to the ocean below, and a hike towards Hellnar promised more and more beauty.
Alas, the north awaited. We lingered for as long as we could, gazing out to the ocean and marveling at all the rock formations, before making the 5 hour drive to Akureyri. But Snæfellsnes wouldn't just let us leave, instead it greeted us with a new rainbow around every corner, including a complete double rainbow that couldn't be captured in pictures it was so massive.
A large number of stopped cars also spoke of a sight not to be missed, and we walked into a giant canyon that looked like a giant's hands were pulling the hill apart. Inside, you could traverse waterfalls inward as the walls closed in. Quite the sight.
We finally bid it all farewell, convinced now that every person living in Iceland is guaranteed their own mountain, picturesque river, and rainbow.
The North
The first thing we noticed about the "interior" heading to Akureyri is just how much the landscape and vegetation changed. Suddenly we were in eastern Washington. More trees started to pop up. The colors shifted from the greens we had been seeing to predominantly reds. It was a whole new environment.
We had heard that the Westfjords were beautiful, with a fascinating witchcraft museum (the witches were men here apparently) but they were very hard to drive and very out of the way. As such, we merely got a passing glance at them as we passed on the ring road.
The sun set behind us, and from there it was simply a long black drive with the fireflies of reflectors along the road dancing ahead of us. There was nothing to see, nowhere to go but onward, as even the hints of cities disappeared.
We arrived late in the night at our airbnb in Akureyri. There was a quick introduction to our lovely host, a show around the small kitchen and up a spiral staircase to our moderately well-sized room, where we promptly crashed. In fact, we crashed the entire next day as well. This was when we learned a much needed lesson: it's okay to do nothing sometimes. A long week in Reykjavik followed by a rapid tour of the south and west followed by a 5.5 hour drive had wiped us out. The most we did was meet the two live-ins who rented the space year-round and watch a bunch of Steven Universe.
But come the second day, we realize we have two choices. One, explore the "Diamond Circle", Akureyri's answer to Reykjavik's Golden Circle, or just head north up the peninsula in search of some hot pots (hot springs that locals had turned into hot tubs) and possibly a horse roundup festival that was supposed to be happening that weekend. We opted for option 2, and headed north to Dalvik.
Unfortunately for us, we choose to do this on a Sunday, when practically everything was closed. We did come across a wonderful cafe though, which would be a Seattle hipster's dream.
We didn't spend much time there, as we wanted to at least try to get around the peninsula, and the house roundup was nowhere in sight. Just a few minutes out of town, though, we had to stop again because while there were no markers of any sort, we saw something we just had to capture.
This beauty had no name, nothing to distinguish it. It was just another beautiful waterfall in Iceland. There was a small trail that someone had obviously left before us through plants sprouting berries at every footfall, but instead of the normal tourist stopoff we would've found along the coast, there was simply noting but the falls.
Onward we drove, through a couple terrifying tunnels through the mountains (one of which was one-way with turnouts).
We stumbled across an old, quiet fishing town called Siglufjordur, and decided to have a look around to calm ourselves after 10km of tunnels. It became clear pretty quickly that this was a family town, and a drinking town. Three bars greeted us within the space of two blocks, as well as a surprising number of children. Being Sunday, everything was still closed, but there was a beautiful old rusting fishing boat on display, as well as some kind of liferaft memorial.
It was going to take another hour at least in not-great weather to reach the possible site of the horse roundup, but we had both had enough by that point and decided instead to turn back and spend a little more time in Dalvik, the birthplace of the tallest man that's ever lived.
The next day, it was time for the Diamond Circle. We immediately noticed one distinction the Diamond Circle has over the Golden Circle is its size. It's easily twice the length, and most definitely an actual circle with sights to see all along it. It was going to be almost impossible to see the whole thing, so we decided to try the southern edge of the circle out to Dettifoss (the most powerful waterfall in Europe), and then turn back home. But first up, some falls that followed the trend of beautiful sights hiding around corners even when you should be able to see them from miles away: Godafoss.
According to local legend, when Iceland's leaders first decided to abandon their pagan ways and adopt Christianity, a chieftain threw the statues of their pagan gods down into Godafoss as a symbol of their new devotion. For me it was no Gullfoss, but it was still cool to see a place of such historical significance. It was also cool as a scientist to hike over a spot where the falls were spilling over and to recognize that in a hundred years or so this would be another part of the falls and quite unwalkable. So much of Iceland is walking over ancient and active geology, erosion, and volcanoes. It's basically a giant lesson in earth science.
Next up was Lake Myvatn, an area littered with "pseudovolcanoes"; craters created from lava hitting water.
We took a slightly wrong turn and ended up on the south side of the lake, away from most tourists and buses. There was a supposed hour walk around a couple craters, through farmland littered with sheep, but the walk took at most half an hour. Nonetheless, it was quite beautiful, with stunning views of the surrounding craters and the lake itself.
Around the lake was also the famous Myvatn Nature Baths, the north's answer to the too-expensive-for-us Blue Lagoon. Unfortunately, being towards the end of our time in Iceland and having already spent far over what we were expecting to spend, we skipped this spot as well in favor of looking forward to one more trip to the public pools.
But there was something else that stuck out when looking at a map of the area...caves.
We pulled into a parking spot two cars wide that led to a hiking trail towards two caves, Stóragjá and Grjótagjá, as well as the remains of a massive volcano in the distance.
It's hard to impress with just an image, but from this distance we could only see tiny specks along the mountain no bigger than pinpoints. Those pinpoints we eventually discovered were people, and what we were seeing was essentially the size of some cities we had been to. But first, the caves.
The trail almost felt like a deathtrap. Sinkholes were everywhere, and it quickly became clear this area was a giant cave-in waiting to happen. Yet we continued on through the crevices and eventually came to Stóragjá. Now, we had heard reports that it wasn't safe to bathe in due to E. coli growth in the water, but that didn't seem to stop the people who belonged to the several pairs of wet underwear we found. But the cave itself...well, unless you plan on swimming, there's not much to see. There's a rope down into the water at one end through a very narrow entrance, and a ladder down at another end with a shelf for candles apparently.
That's about the best I could capture. Slightly disappointed, we decided to take the 2km hike over to Grjótagjá. This made it worth it.
Unfortunately my phone was draining fast so I didn't get any pictures of the hike over, but trust me, it was gorgeous. Metallic silver trees replaced by desolate lava fields straight out of Lord of the Rings. The light was already starting to fade when we reached Grjótagjá, and the chill was setting in. Thankfully we found this:
The entire cavern was warm with the heat rising off the water (which had been labeled too hot to swim in). The pool itself was crystal clear and offered two different entrances to admire it from. Well worth the trek...even after we saw that the road led straight to it.
But with the light on its' way towards the horizon, we had to make a decision: keep heading towards the massive volcano and face a steep hike and the possibility of climbing down in darkness, or move on towards Viti, a volcano with a lake inside it. The latter won out, and we trekked back to the car.
We drove past the Nature Baths to find an entire lake of bright blue geothermal water, followed by, well, Yellowstone.
This unexpected wealth of hot springs, most of which were just barely roped off, was one of my highlights. Bubbling pools of minerals and muck with a roaring steam vent and the inescapable smell of sulfur. It was a wonderful surprise. But we were running out of time, and Viti awaited.
We drove up a winding road through a large geothermal power plant, and joined about three other stragglers looking to grab the sunset from a volcano.
We briefly considered trying to hit Dettifoss before the last of the light faded, but it wasn't to be. We drove back through the night and crashed.
In the morning we bid farewell to Akureyri, and hopped back on the road to Reykjavik for our final night in Iceland before setting off for Ireland. It said goodbye in spectacular fashion. First with some final landscape shots:
And then, the night we were heading to the airport, when literally historic levels of Aurora activity flooded Reykjavik, and they turned off streetlights. I will literally never forget looking up and seeing what looked like clouds, blossoming into an entire pool of writhing light directly above me. We watched it rise and fall and dim and brighten and move away and return for about 2 hours.
We spent the night at the airport, sleeping on the floor for what little time we could before moving back through passport control, to our gate, and on to the next step of our journey...Ireland.
To be continued...
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