Catch of the Day

My intention of getting as far south and east as possible in our trip to Iceland inevitably meant an early start was needed on our last full day in Iceland to travel the 300 miles back towards where we'd arrived. One of the advantages however of Icelandic mid summer is that there was no time pressure on the journey - it wasn't going to get dark - and we had pre-booked a hotel near the airport in readiness for an early morning departure.

Our first stop on the journey back was at Jokulsarlon (again) for a final look at the icebergs. In each different light the ice had taken on different hues - today blues were more prominent. Walking away from the lagoon, passing a great skua and several eider ducks we arrived at the black sand beach. The shore was littered with shards of ice and the early morning cloud created a natural filter as if we were viewing the world in monochrome. 

Tearing ourselves away we carried on driving for about an hour, passing glacier after glacier, until an unplanned detour down a couple of miles of gravel road took us to Svínafellsjökull. This is an outlet glacier of the Vatnajökull icecap and provided us with the chance to get really close to the glacier edge. From a small car park we found a rocky path that hugged the side of the glacier and climbed above the ice. A guided glacier walk was taking place below but the people were just tiny specks when seen against a backdrop of against the layers of ice and deep crevasses.

Svínafellsjökull

The halfway stop our return journey was the tiny town of Vik. We'd bypassed here on our outbound travels but planned to break our journey by stopping on the return leg. Another unplanned detour delayed our progress. In the middle of a vast plain, we saw hundreds of stone cairns dotted around a small hillock. An information board revealed that a farm known as Laufskalar had been destroyed in an eruption of Katla (another Icelandic volcano) in 954 AD and this created a lava mound that has since been named Laufskalavarda. The story goes that travellers who pass this spot add a stone to a cairn for good luck, which, over centuries, has evolved into hundreds and hundred of cairns. How much of this is myth and how much real history is unclear. Icelanders do have a fondness for myths and legends - even now about half of all Icelandic people believe in elves (Huldufólk) - and not in a story book way but as real inhabitants of the landscape. What is certain is that Laufskalavarda makes for a surreal and other worldly landscape. 

Laufskalavarda

Vik finally hove into view, its three basalt rock stacks (Reynisdrangar) showing as silhouettes on the skyline. The church sits above the small fishing town, perched on a small hilltop, and is apparently the only place that would be safe in the event of a glacial flood following a volcanic eruption. Mist swirled around the black sand beach and above the cliff tops. A statue set back from the beach, a single person looking out to sea, all combined to create a moody atmosphere, almost like a setting for an Ingmar Bergman film. Incidentally the statue has a twin in Hull - a symbol of friendship between Iceland and the UK following the cod wars of the 1970's.

Reynisdrangar

The church at Vik

Vik black sand beach

After Vik we had at least 3 more hours of driving to complete but time to make one additional significant detour. On the N1 road a few miles past Vik was a signpost to Dyrhólaey. A short drive led to the end of the road - promontory overlooking the Atlantic. Once parked we set off to explore braving a colony of Arctic terns. These birds are migratory, ground nesting, fiercely territorial and not endowed with masses of intelligence. You've seen Hitchcock's "The Birds"? Well we performed our own reenactment, using a walking pole as a decoy to avoid getting attacked. The thing with Arctic terns is they attack even when you are nowhere near their nest site. We survived! Once past the tern colony we could relax and take in the views of more black sand, cliffs and rock arches.

The cliffs and beach at Dyrhólaey

The main attraction at Dyrhólaey wasn't the views - as good as these were - but the chance to see puffins. Walking to another cliff we got our first glimpse of these comical looking birds who were nesting in burrows on the cliff tops. We watched as every so often a puffin would fly out to sea or return to land - and although ungainly looking birds on land they are remarkably fast and agile in flight. Before too long our patience was rewarded as one landed only a few meters away giving us a close up view. This one returned from a fishing expedition and decided to display the 'catch of the day'.

We stayed and watched puffins for quite a while until it was time to return to the car and complete the last stage of our journey, pausing this time only to refuel and take a few more photos of Icelandic ponies that were galloping around a field.

Finally arriving at our airport hotel we packed our bags for an early morning flight and ventured out in search of food. An unprepossessing looking restaurant housed in what looked like a light industrial unit on a drab housing estate turned out be be a bizarrely good find. Popular with locals - I think we were the only tourists - it served excellent pizza and lamb steaks. 

So ended out time in Iceland. From the hipster vibe and contemporary art and architecture of Reykjavik to hot water pools and ice cold glaciers, thundering waterfalls and silent, lupin covered plains we'd seen so many contrasting places. The landscape was of course the star attraction, empty of people, ever changing, rugged, largely untamed and unpredictable it had in turn left us beguiled, awestruck and stunned into silence.  We had only seen a small part of Iceland - and its possible a return trip will be needed to sample some more of its delights!