EvoBlag – Page 30

Skógafoss Walk

3 November 2014 by evo

Heading back towards Reykjavik (East) for about 40 minutes we arrive at Skógafoss: a big old waterfall just off the road.

A long set of stairs takes us to the top, where the first photo was taken. It seems like most people stop there, but there is a stile which goes further along the river.

We (awkwardly) clamber over the fence and head along the track. We’ve been told that the track is around 24km long, so we plan to walk as long as we feel like and then head back.

It is sunny today. Hot even, relatively.

The side of the river that we are on is fairly nondescript, mostly flat rolling hills and a slightly muddy track. The other side is more mountainous and formidable. When there is a dip in the ground across the river we can see the snowy tops of far away mountains. Looking back the way we came we stare straight into the bright sun, making silhouettes of anyone behind. Right now it’s just the four of us, so the silhouettes are recognisable.

The clear day gives a crispness and a clarity to the country that we haven had so far. This walk is supposed to include something like 11 waterfalls in the section we plan to walk, so we keep our ears and eyes trained on spotting the next.

Typically you might expect to hear a waterfall before you see it, but one in particular blows huge amount of water spray up into the air that it looks like a steaming hot spring from half a kilometre away.

The river has long cut itself a deep ravine to flow through, it’s odd to think on why or how the waterfalls remain – why aren’t they all cut down to river bed? I suppose the force of the falling water cuts a hole ahead of the running water cutting a channel so forever there are waterfalls where they formed at the start. The ravine occasionally keeps the river silent from us, only to reveal it again just around a corner in a great roaring surge of noise.

The track starts getting hilly as we climb down, over and then up again into small tributary streams. Slippery but fun.

Further along we begin to clamber over the track more than walk. In places on hand and feet climbing up and climbing back down.

After a little bit of this we rest and decide to head back and have some lunch.

We eat in the shadow of the first waterfall. The damp air and a now cloudy sky bring on chills so getting back into the car to warm up is welcome.

We head back to the basalt caves from yesterday to get a better look in finer weather.

A really beautiful light around our cabins at Hvoll

Walking along the Skógá River up from Skógafoss. A lovely warm day with the sounds of water intermittent as the river ducked deep into the earth and back out again and with the mist shooting up in the distance to signal the location of the next waterfall

Second Hvoll day trip

3 November 2014 by evo

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.

View from Dyrhólaey lighthouse along the black sandy coast towards Selfoss

View of Dyrhólaey from further East near Vik

Basalt columns on the coast next to the Reynisdrangar

Icelandic horse-ride

3 November 2014 by evo

After looking at the icebergs in Jökulsárlón Lagoon we drove home via a basalt cave. It was so incredibly cold and windy, stomping through the wet black sand to look at them was arduous enough. I took no photos.

The next day was clearer at the cabins and we decided to go horse-riding.

Kerrie didn’t want to come so we left her at the cabin and set off. By the time that we arrived at the horse riding place, we were under cloud and there was some rain spitting on the windshield.

The Icelandic Horse is smaller and more rugged than European horse breeds. I have ridden horses a number of times, maybe 20 or so (?), Anna has ridden twice and this will be Wayne’s first time. So a bit of a play inside on the horses is well spent.

Outside we go for an hour-long walk up the side of a mountain and back down again. It is funny to watch the horses take us much slack as their riders allow. The views are pretty cool, but I’m not confident to take a photo at any point along the way.

To finish the walk we are taken on an extra loop around the driveways to try a tölt, a gait specific to the Icelandic Horse.

The ride was fun and without any falls – despite some steep slippery bits and some horse-play (!). I’d love to come back and do another longer ride in better weather. They said that on a clear day we could go far further up and see the glacier much more clearly.

A bridge for icebergs

2 November 2014 by evo

First Hvoll day trip

2 November 2014 by evo

For our first day-trip from Hvoll we drive east. Five hundred meters to the South: the sea. For miles infinity is a thick fog one hundred metres North of the road. We pass vast fields of black nothing in all directions. Apparently arctic foxes roam here. The knobbly black fields begin to get grassy tops. Now there are hay coloured mounds to infinity, like strange music visualisations whizzing past. In the blink of an eye the grassy mounds have turned to rock. The rocks are like splinters speared up from the earth. They are reptilian, fascinatingly ugly, a thing for desolate nightmares.

The fog clears out to the north and mountains come into view, covered in yellow grass up to dark rocky shear cliffs. As the mountains appear the spears of rock become and oozing field of bubbly bright green moss.

It is a lava flow from the 1700s all bulbous and strange and covered in moss up to 500mm thick. It looks like ancient green creatures frozen while trying to clamber over each other – the way corn flour and water goes in a vibrating speaker cone.

The world goes on changing wildly for another hour or so. And then we arrive. We pull left into a grey gravel car park. In front of us is a small rise to a hill and the drive seems like a big effort for nothing.

We climb out of the car and rug up for the cold. It is misty as we climb over the saddle of the hill. At the top we pause to take in the view: a field of icebergs in a huge lagoon surrounded by the shadow of mist-obscured mountains far back in the distance.

The icebergs come from the Jökulsárlón Glacier, assemble in the lagoon here and then wander out to sea through an opening about a kilometre from where we stand.

After taking in a view for a while we begin to explore. We go down to the water’s edge and watch the ice rise and fall as the water laps on the gravel. The reflections and the shimmer off different coloured ice is stunning. From the very top of the hill the view is more isolating. We are in the middle of nowhere and so is this ice. There is no view of where it has come from, and for the moment no view of where it goes either.

After maybe an hour poking around and exploring we cross the road and head to the sea. I think his was even more stunning.

There on the pitch black sandy beach, washed up like whales were thousands of icebergs. All multicoloured like before (deep and light blue and white and clear). Some big ones are being smashed by waves, other have succumb and washed further up the beach and sit half buried in the sand.

It is bleak and eerie and magnificent.