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.
Time to settle down for another night.
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.
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.
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.
