Hallgrimskirche is this big cool cathedral in Reykjavik which we visited in the last full day we had to walk around.
It is a lot like Grundtvik’s Church…I preferred Grundtivik’s.
On the last day we walked to this church, down around the old harbour, to the lake and then to the 871±2 Settlement Exhibition. The 871±2 exhibition is pretty cool. In 2001 an excavation found a Viking longhouse. Because of a layer of volcanic ash found above the house, the construction date of the house was pinpointed to 871±2. So the exhibition is (literally) centred around this longhouse with all kinds of other Viking and establishment-of-Iceland exhibits. The next day we wake early and drive to the airport, by 11am we’re in London. Summary of Iceland: freezing, windy, incredible, wild. Will return.
We pack up to leave Hvoll in the morning and make a list of places to stop off on the way back to Reykjavik.
The first of which is this plane crash.
We turn off the road onto a plain of black rock with no path. Our view is split in two: the upper half is grey sky and the lower half is black rock. No amount of light from the car gives any more detail than that.
Very faintly there are specs of light in the distance: small fluro poles. For about 15 or 20 minutes we are guided by these little poles and just over a tiny rise there is the plane in from of us!
Such an eerie way to find such a thing, and exploring it is even stranger. The tail is missing, as are the wing tips. No instruments remain and the plane is peppered with holes. What happen to the crew?
There is no information except for US military markings on the side.
Later on I found that it was a US transport plane which crash landed in the 70s (possible ran out of fuel). All crew survived, but recovery of the plane was abandoned. A local farmer (may have) sold all valuable parts of the plane long ago. Strange.
Our next stop took us on a rainy cold walk in this valley along this river. Another huge field of black rock without a trail or markings. But maybe there was a pool here. A hot spring pool. Seljavallalaug.
Fully rugged in thermals, woollen jumper, boots and wet-weather gear we set off for a swim. (Swimmers in a bag).
In various places along the river were ag-pipes releasing steaming water. Promising?
About 20 minutes up the river a naked man darted out way ahead of us and ran down out of sight. He must have had his ears picked up! Haha. But a good sign that there was a pool this way.
Two wet heads craned from behind a rock just in front of us and looking up from inside my hooded jacket I could see that they were in a pool (clothed). Their mate returned with some boardies on, said hello and jumped in the pool.
The pool is incredible, but I failed to even take a photo. It’s a 25 meter pool, very similar in style to Merewether Baths.
A couple of Christmases ago I was in Japan. One of my favourite experiences was sitting naked in an onsen (hot spring pool) looking out over the snowy mountains before us and having snow fall onto the face and into the pool. So warm and pleasant. This pool was pretty much an identical experience.
The pool was made in 1923 and was used for compulsory swimming classes from 1927.
We talked to the guys who’d slept nearby overnight and were recovering in the pool. We found our way to the warmest places, where the spring water came in. Swimming away from the spring inlets was cold and unpleasant, but amusing to watch someone else do!
We probably stayed for about half an hour, until Kerrie was completely cold, having stood waiting for us in the elements.
Getting dressed got easier as the shivering subsided and the walk back to the car felt strangely warm to me.
We had planned to visit the blue lagoon hot spring on our way to Reykjavik but at the advice of the guys at the pool we decided to give it a miss. Apparently this pool was much better – and free.
We arrived back in Reykjavik in the mid afternoon and spent most of the rest of the day looking through op-shops.
As we approach the basalt caves for the second time the clouds open up a stream of afternoon light over the island Heimaey. Stunning. And more so in person, as ever.
The basalt cave remains as impossible as ever to capture, but the orangey-yellow light makes beautiful patterns over the rocks.
On November 2 we drove back towards the Ice Lagoon, but this time only about 45 minutes.
From on top of this mountain (we drove up there, thankfully) we could look way back along the black beach, past our tiny little cottages and the plains to the huge mountains behind us, looming and surrounding us.
Up here is a lighthouse with a view. Utterly wind swept. There is also a photography class today, completely breaching any working at heights safety. I desperately wanted to hand them harnesses! Haha.
The view is to the west (north-west probably). The other way is the watery arch, staying as strong as it can against relentless ocean and wind.
Below the view to the mountains, under where I stand for the photograph and along the black sand are the basalt caves. Outside the caves are the hexagonal basalt columns (if you don’t want to go as far, you can see some pretty much the same in Kiama…go to Iceland). I believe they are shaped like that because of specific conditions around the cooling rate of lava (?). They are pretty rad however they’re formed. And fun for climbing.
The cave was pretty epic too, but photos really aren’t able to capture the whole view well.
This was out first visit to the caves on Reynisfjara Beach. It was so incredibly cold and rainy by this point and the black sand so wet that trudging about was too arduous to properly enjoy…but it’s okay, we came back later. The next day in fact.
