An extraordinary break in Iceland over four nights was dreamt
up by our daughter Justine and she packed us off on the train to Manchester on
the 19th September for some rest and restoration!
Lying just below the Arctic Circle, Iceland is the furthest
North we have ever gone. Dan had ensured we were togged out for the cold and we
were very excited.
We overnighted in the airport hotel in Manchester in
readiness for the early morning flight into Keflavik International Airport. Built
by Americans during WW2; we found it most confusing to exit the plane and find
ourselves caught up in the congestion of awaiting departures. A time warp and
rather inadequate for the number of
tourists flying in and out of Iceland in recent years. Our Riviera and
Icelandic Guide, Valur was waiting for us in the entrance hall.
Day One immediately began… A 45 minute coach ride to the
capital, Reykjavik, through a flat lava strewn landscape in the midst of which
lay not only a golf-course in the most inhospitable terrain imaginable, but
also a aluminium factory which, capitalising on the ready availability of
geothermal power to create cheap electricity; imports bauxite from Australia
and exports aluminium blocks to other production lines in Europe. A little
beyond our mental conception arose when Valur mentioned that The Artic Golf Classic is held during the 24
hour long summer days, and playoff begins at midnight. Closer
to the city he explained hotels rarely
have their rooms ready until the late afternoon therefore we’d start with an orientation
tour of Reykjavik along with its history. Much to our quiet dismay our warm
clothes and camera were packed in our bags. These had been placed, first up, in
the hidden depths of the coach luggage compartment. Far from easy to retrieve
thus we had to make do without our thermal underwear and George’s camera. On
the coach we were fine. Stepping out another story with a cold wind licking
around every bend and very true to forecast – a weather change every five
minutes, which included rain often!
Lea’s phone camera came to the rescue.
Hofoi House – Einar Benediktsson,
an Icelandic poet and lawyer, resided at Hofoi house for many years. His
statue, by Asmundur Sveinsson, stands near the house with Smoky Bay behind. His poetry was a significant contribution to
the nationalistic revival leading to Iceland's independence. Years down the
line, 1986, the historical meeting between Ronald Reagan and Mikhail Gorbachev took
place in Hofoi House, the outcome resulting in the first steps made towards
ending of the Cold War and nuclear disarmament.
Concert Hall (Harpa House) was in the midst of being built
when Iceland’s entire banking system failed, leading to a severe depression and
substantial political unrest. The 2008 World economic crisis followed close on
its heels. However, the city fathers
decided it was cheaper to finish the structure in the years that followed
rather than stop and restart later. Valur’s chagrin was still evident all these
years after as he pointed out other super structures that remained incomplete
on the Bay front. He mentioned the ongoing court cases of Iceland’s bankers and
the search for hidden funds they'd syphoned off, with only a few inside, doing
their time. Harpa was a building dominated by
glass which was all imported from China.
Perlan restaurant on a hill overlooking the city and beyond,
had more recently been cleverly built around 4 large tanks once used for the storage
of geothermally heated water distributed throughout the city. This provided
panoramic views and a very suitable venue for the influx of tourists to Iceland.
This is where we had lunch and our bowls of traditional meat soup followed by
refills of mushroom soup went down well.
Hallgrimskirkja (King’s) church has a very unusual and
dominant bell tower inspired by the shapes of cooling lava columns and it is
Iceland’s largest church; on entry, one is immediately aware of its cool simplicity
for such a huge space in a very cold country. Once you notice the warmly padded
and comfortable pews and remember that much of Iceland’s stone floors are all
geothermally warmed this chilly looking and architecturally cutting edge
looking church. The enormous organ behind the pews with its organ pipes filling
the back wall, was amazing. Quite
confronting and unexpected for a church was the art on display in the foyer.
George felt it was totally inappropriate and weird! Ceramic hands with large
nails through the palm – fair enough. But a woman’s breast bleeding, ducks and
frogs perched on heads and a large painting of the crucifixion with another,
immediately beside it with a life size
nude man holding out his hand to those on the cross left George gobsmacked… In the arced space behind
the main altar more life sized paintings of nude men filled the area.
Definitely a very MODERN place of worship!
In the little square, fronting the church we found a statue
of Leif Eriksson, a Norse explorer generally regarded by Icelandic people to be
the Americas founder, nearly 500 years before Christopher Columbus arrived in
1492! This statue can barely be seen in the photo taken of George managing to
keep a tight grip on good behaviour as the freezing winds and another bout of
rain had him sheltering up against a wall.
The main street was decorated in some colour- a rainbow
painted partway down the road; and to one side
a photographic exhibition stood up to the weather. A few quiet looking
restaurants at the far end until we remembered it was a Sunday. Shop windows we
passed didn’t draw noses to the glass perhaps the rain and wind added a gloomy
haze to everything… At the end of the day we were left with an overall vision
of large, plain blocks and angles for this city – more industrial looking.
However, over time we noticed bits of Icelandic humour (using a four letter
word often enough) ‘We may not have F…ing
cash but we do have plenty of ash’! Perhaps this counts too - as Iceland
does not have an army there is no hallowed ground for the Unknown Soldier;
instead, in another small square we came across a statue of an ‘Unknown Banker’
although Lea felt ‘city worker’ was more appropriate. In the City Hall, close
by and beautifully situated on the very edge of large Reykjavik Pond with many
ducks sheltering up against the picture
windows; we found a topographic model of
Iceland that had taken 17 “man” years to
make (i.e. four men working continuously for four years). This provided a
perfect medium to explain Iceland’s inherent geological instability.
Last port of call was ‘Parliament House’- again the simple
humility of the place stood out and no security. It could easily have been a home! Oops! Not quite straight... cold
getting to Lea’s hands.
Foss Hotel, a sixteen floor towering grey building had only
been completed two months before. Everything was beautifully new, low key and
minimalist. Swiftly and smoothly processed we were glad to flop on our very
comfortable bed on the sixth floor. Weather was not conducive to walking down
the hill to the harbour- despite Valur’s dinner recommendations there. Our immediate surrounds were bleak looking
buildings, closed to the elements. We decided dinner in the hotel restaurant
’Haust’ was our best bet. Three twigs
sticking out of a tiny bucket of sand did not impress George as a table
arrangement until he understood this was the seasonal theme. Autumn produce dominated
on the a la carte menu too. Nor was the
menu separated into the usual starters, mains and desserts instead our
delightful waitress explained the meals graded upwards from small, medium to
large servings without being separated and gave us some guidance! The dark,
crusty, freshly baked bread arriving on our table was utterly delicious and we
‘sailed’ into such moreish bread we had to ask for more! Very little
meat on the menu that we chose interesting sounding vegetarian dishes which
sent our taste buds into ecstasy. George had a delicious mushroom risotto
topped with kale deep fried in tempura as a garnish. Lea had butternut chunks
beautifully plated up with a goat’s cheese sauce, wilted spinach and the
nuttiest, crunchy pumpkin seeds chopped up and scattered. Sue Ramsden came to mind
as did Israeli chef Ottolenghi, whose recipe books we all pore over regularly; as
we tucked in. How could we turn down trying pudding when such food artistry
came out of their kitchens? We had a chocolate mousse and a beetroot ice-cream
with wild berry sauce. Heaven! Never were we to step out of the hotel for dinner
over the next three nights. In mitigation, there were timing issues, weather or
sore feet! Instead we resorted to a hotel pub meal by chance after catching the
last part of ‘happy hour’. A come down? No ways, we were more than content with
the epicurean dishes served up. A far cry from typical pub grub and very Icelandic.
Many of our tour group began joining us
at the long tables towards the back of the airy pub as word spread of its tasty
meals. As a result, our last night made for a very convivial occasion.
Day 2 was labelled the Golden Circle Tour and starting out
early,
our day took us through a portion of the interior consisting of lava
fields (devoid of trees), large lakes, erupting geysers, spectacular waterfalls
and glacial rivers flowing towards the Atlantic Ocean. Reykjavík and the
surrounding areas in the southwest of the country are home to over two-thirds
of the 320 000 strong population, this renders Iceland as the most sparsely
populated country in Europe. With the widespread availability of geothermal
power and the harnessing of many rivers and waterfalls for hydro-electricity,
most residents have access to inexpensive hot water, heating and electricity.
Although there was a distinct chill to the air we were
blessed with a beautiful day and the sun shone for most of it. According to
Valur this could be Iceland’s first and only day of summer! The first stopover
was Pingvellir National Park
(established in 1928) – a momentous location where, around 930AD, the first
“parliament” (Althing) was convened
and continued until the 18th century. Commonly regarded as Iceland's national shrine individuals such
as the poet Einar Benediktsson
(referred to earlier), lie buried at Pingvellir. July 1974 marked 1100th
anniversary of the settlement of Iceland – with tens of thousands of Icelanders
celebrating the occasion at Pingvellir. An empty land,
infused with meaning, as almost every place seemed linked to ancient sagas and
battles among its war loving Viking settlers. We were told of the savage penalties of those days (circa 1280 AD) and shown a particular
pool, within the Park, that was used for drowning people as a method of
execution (women being tied up in a sack and pushed into the pool); criminals
being beheaded and sorcerers being burnt at the stake.
Iceland is also regarded as a “geologically young land” (i.e. 16 million
years old) and it is located on the Mid-Atlantic Ridge. The fact the ridge runs
right through the island means it is highly geologically active. Being
split in this manner by the mid-Atlantic ridge, the island includes parts of
both the North American and Eurasian continental plates, these being separated
by a 5-7km wide valley. It is here in Pingvellir
National Park that visitors have the
opportunity to stroll along the striking chasm left when the two plates
diverged, leaving two great rock
scars on either side. In NO way, as tourist brochures commonly claim, is it
possible “to stretch out and, literally touch both continents
simultaneously”!
Geysir, was our next stop. Smoking ground! Steam rose from
different directions as we slowly walked our way from one end to the other with
the biggest erupting hot spring ‘Strokkur’ more or less
holding centre stage. Superheated steam causes the ‘cauldron’ to steadily build
up and bubble furiously before shooting hot water 20m (or so) into the air
every 5-10 minutes. – This was the best known erupting hot
spring in one of many geothermally active areas that characterize much of Iceland.
Lunch was to be had in the Geysir Park Centre and in another part of the
large complex we found a fascinating Multi Media Exhibition full of
photographs, sights and sounds relating to the area and its history. We’d easily have spent longer there instead
of nervously keeping an eye on the clock.
The 31m high Golden Waterfall (Gullfoss) on the Hvita River,
fed by the 800km² Langjokull ice cap had an interesting story attached to the
‘saving’ of this stunning Fall’s for posterity, thanks to a farmer’s daughter.
Therefore, it didn’t sound good to hear that greedy eyes are once again, viewing
the ‘70m drop’ into the deep gorge below as a possible hydro power station for the future. We walked to all of several vantage points, from which the falls
could be seen.
Icelandic horses – renowned for their extreme hardiness
(never brought indoors) and wit an ability to perform 5 different gaits were seen in
their numbers as we travelled that day. En-route home, we stopped for a photo
call by some obliging horses kindly posing close to the fence alongside a suitable
place for the coach to pull off. They
may be the size of a pony but Icelanders are insistent these are HORSES! The protection of the breed is strictly
enforced
The skies were clear. The sun’s glow cast a pleasing light across
the landscape as the coach drove us home prompting Valur to mention the
Northern Lights could be a possibility that night. This piqued the interest of
many and as this was our only early night return to the hotel, he suggested interested
parties check with Reception for companies possibly going out that night. There
was more than enough interest for Valur to begin phoning around as we made the
journey home and the hotel finalised the bookings for an 8 p.m. pick up.
The enthusiastic anticipation
of all, was further whipped up by the guide, as two coach loads of people
waited for ‘Head Office’ to phone through the destination for optimal sightings
according to weather reports… The
coaches set off as soon as Pingvellir
National Park was excitedly announced as quite the most perfect spot. Our
guide couldn’t wait to leave the city lights behind and enter the wild spaces
with its darkness. A forty five minute ride with explanations on what to expect, from this mighty adventure was
prudently covered with nature’s phenomena being a matter of luck and IF we
didn’t see the Northern Lights – our ticket was valid for two years… But, they
had a good feeling this was to be a special night. Be careful of hype it so often bites or
disappoints. Five hours in the freezing cold (temperatures dropping to 3⁰C) –
no hot drink let alone water available. Even the use of a toilet would sting
for the equivalent of two Euros … We jumped around trying to keep warm and
eventually huddled inside the coach waiting for a Lights call. The first came soon after 11 p.m. Those in the bus
stumbled out in their hurry to see the amazing lights… How had we missed them
peering out the windows at odd intervals in conversation? Eyes searched
northwards for colours streaking across the sky as photos have always….
Nothing! Camera on tripods lining the northern front were whirring and making
snapping noises and all we could see were hazy, streaks of light rising upwards
on the horizon. Somewhat like thin, feathery cloud? Perhaps the security lights
of the Park Office were obscuring our vision. We rushed to a darker position
and searched for something more tangible – more like books have shown. Nothing!
The cold drove us back to the coach. An hour later another excited call from
the guide and again we tumbled out to SEE… Lea spotted a girl sitting on the
wall with her camera on a tripod, filming herself against the northern sky. On
playback, there were strange colours that had not been visible to the naked
eye. This alone was the only indication that perhaps the Northern Lights were
there; just not as we had expected! In the east, the moon rising made a more
spectacular sight. The icy cold was not conducive to staying out there
longer than necessary. We retired once again to the coach somewhat
disillusioned. It was palpable relief for the weary mob in the bus when our
driver announced soon after 1a.m that the stalwarts were packing up outside and
we’d be going home. Sometime after two in the damp cold morning we tumbled
exhaustedly into bed.
Day 3 dawned a foul, cold, wet day. It was hard to drag
ourselves down to an early breakfast in readiness for a pick up for the Whale
watching cruise. Despite all the brochures reckoning that September was the
optimal time for whale watching in Iceland compared to anywhere else in the
world – our deeper thoughts churned at any right minded whale coming out to
frolic in this sort of weather. Whale watching has become an important part of
Iceland's economy since 1997 and making matters worse we knew the Agent,
Justine had booked our trip through had brought her husband to Iceland on the
same flight as us, specifically to take him Whale Watching to celebrate his
40th Birthday. We had seen them briefly at Manchester airport and not again as
they were in a different hotel and not in a group. We’d like to have known
Louise and Rob had been successful. As
we arrived at the docks Valur pointed out Elding Whale Watching Company –
protecting whales, on the right of the quay; while on the left, were the whale
hunting boats… which took us aback. Sure
enough – Iceland, less confronting than Japan, still continues to kill whales
on the grounds that they consume such large quantities of commercially
significant fish that they need to culled! Quite unnecessary, and unproven,
according to those on board Elding.
Nowadays, in contrast to the economic and political liability
represented by whaling in Iceland, whale watching is hugely valuable to the
Icelandic economy. In 2009, for example, roughly 125,000 people took a whale
watch trip in Icelandic waters, providing direct revenue of more than US$4
million in direct taxes to the Icelandic economy, quite apart from the add-on
tourism expenditures such as hotel and restaurant purchases.
Apparently Icelandic whalers have slaughtered more than 35,000 whales
since the late nineteenth century and refuse to recognize the International
Whaling Commission moratorium on commercial whaling. Icelad currently allocates
its whalers a quota to kill endangered fin whales (137 killed in 2014) mostly
for export, as well as Minke whales (34 killed in 2014) to service domestic
demand, the bulk of which, sadly, is that of tourists!
In November 1986, Greenpeace activists linked to the Sea Shepherd
Conservation Society, sabotaged a whaling station by destroying machinery and
computers and sank two of Iceland’s four whaling ships in Reykjavik Harbour by
unbolting the engines' raw water intakes.
Elding provided Icelandic overalls, specifically manufactured for arctic
conditions standing out on the decks. The keen whale watchers donned these and
disappeared out on the decks to await a whale. We found a table inside
preferring to wait in a dry, warm place without cumbersome suits on. Rough
waters rocked the boat in every direction as we headed out into and beyond the
Bay listening to the commentary, once again aware of the excited hype
generated. Two White Beaked
Dolphins (a North Atlantic species) were spotted and excitement rose as those
inside, rushed the windows. Good glimpses were seen on many occasions. NO whales,
not even a distant ‘blow’. We shared a
table with a couple. The husband actively moved up and down the boat reporting
on outside conditions and viewings, eating and drinking coffee until we began
returning to dock. Suddenly, he stretched out somewhat frantically for a stack
of paper, not serviettes but sick bags! With a vivid imagination and a gut that
so easily joins in, Lea struggled to distract and mentally remove herself from
this captive seat; as he coughed and spluttered giving rise to a distinctive
smell. Worse, as she whipped her head into another direction willing the bile
within her not to rise, she noticed the lady on the next table with tightly
closed eyes, blocking her ears…this was too much and to her embarrassment Lea
was entrapped with a bout of terrible giggles and dry retching. George could
feel her shaking madly but had no idea what was going on in his wife’s head
suffice that he needed to look elsewhere too. It was a relief to get out of
there. Memo to ourselves…NO more chasing whales from tourist boats!
Once again, the free time available for the next few hours
to wander the city had no appeal whatsoever in view of lashing rain and icy
winds- we wanted our warm bed and some sleep. Meeting up in the hotel lobby at
3.45pm with our swimming costumes ready for the outing to Blue Lagoon, in freezing conditions was considered sheer madness by
many. Yet we needed to focus enthusiastically, as this site registers within
the top 25 wonders in the world. Our coach dropped us adjacent to a nearby
power station which didn’t sit well with us to start, until we entered a field
of large, rugged volcanic rocks. A pathway opened up to lead us through to a
highly organised geothermal Spa set within its midst. Speedily processed with rubber bracelets that
personally accessed a locker and allowed one to pay for anything within the
building and at the water café. The men
headed off in one direction while the women nervously entered the change rooms
to be overawed by a maze of passages and rooms humming with people in a predominant
state of undress. Once again, Lea fought to overcome her giggles as scene after
scene put her in mind of a cattle sale with chaotic pens. Once a group of us
found some scattered but soon to be vacated lockers in the bowels of the ablution area; Lea
found herself the unexpected leader trying to communicate with non-English
speakers inadvertently preventing us from accessing the empty lockers still under their
bracelet code as they departed. Finally we’d all changed; anxiously removed
jewellery after being warned that silver and white gold blackened in the water
and, discovered how to use the locking device on our wrist, for peace of mind.
Husbands had given up waiting in the predetermined place; all wrong anyway, as passages
led us in a whole new direction, past open showers. Here, bare bodies, blue
with cold, in assorted hues and sizes, were roaming around trying to find a
free shower. There had been snugly white
towelling wraps with big brown towels for hire at ten pounds- extortionate!
Now, regret was etched across many faces as the arctic wind hurtled through the
door swinging open to empty us into an icy room with a heated pool to one side
and crowded with people. Where to find our menfolk in this congestion... heavy
duty plastic ribbons hung down the outdoor entrance barely shielding us from the wind, indoors.
Thick steam rose from the vast pools that curled through the volcanic rocks and
we peered out trying to see any familiar face before venturing out. George appeared from behind; urged me out
into the water so he could try and get one photo before returning to his locker
as a camera was a problem in these lethal conditions.
"Blue Lagoon" was a never to be forgotten bathing
experience.
The grey blue lake
containing steaming, mineral rich waters renowned for their healing properties
was much cooler than the expected 38⁰C due to the mixing caused by the rain and
cold winds blowing all day. As we
floated out there with rain sending rivulets of cold water down our faces and
soaking our hair we shared our earlier experiences - farming had dominated Lea’s thoughts especially outside the showers
when “DIP, Dip, dip” wanted to form on her tongue for the sheep we’d all become. George had felt a more sinister
bewilderment…
Within an hour, wrinkled skins and blue lips forced us to
leave these strangely magical waters and we both found the change rooms far
quieter and orderly. With nothing owed on our bracelets we passed them into an
exit box and found a seat in the café overlooking a section of Blue Lagoon
wearing a greyer garb as night fell. Hungrily we devoured delicious smoked
salmon baguettes washed down with an icy cold beer. Value for quantity- went to
beer over fizzy drinks!
On Day 4 we were faced with a 400 km (12 hour) trip east of Reykjavik over
the coastal plains (ancient sea floor) that are used primarily for dairying,
growing of potatoes not to mention the many white plastic wrapped bales of
grass (‘tractor eggs’ as they are colloquially called) which are exported to
the Faroe Islands as feed. Hard to believe a land of such inclement weather is
capable of being self-sufficient when it came to agriculture without much sun!
And up into the volcanic mountains…
We stopped to see the water fall – Seljalandfoss (see photo
with waterfalls!) and in time, our first sighting of the glacier topped Eyjafjallajokull volcano that held Europe’s Airlines to ransom when
it erupted on 21 March 2010 ( first
time since 1821). The resultant cloud of volcanic ash brought major disruption
to air travel across Europe. It also affected Justine, Daniel, Otto, Roo and
Kiki in Bangkok preventing them from returning home after our first Family
Reunion in Thailand. 600 people were
forced to flee their homes in the immediate region due to falling ash 'like black flour'. According to Valor, the
farmer’s wife had a ‘bad feeling’ in the days leading to the first eruption
just above their farm Porvaldseyri
Our coach stopped at the farm entrance and we looked across
at its present appearance and in a beautiful state of fertility. The
photographs above, were on the fence showing the two different eruptions that
had occurred within that month of 2010 and continued for six weeks.
“Sandstorms” across
the coastal plains generated by strong winds lifting the fluffy volcanic soils
in the area were an absolute hazard in the past, especially for traffic. Over
recent year these sandstorms have been brought under control (stabilised) by
planting Alaskan lupines and grass leaving a lushness to what would have been a
rather bleak landscape. The absence of trees in Iceland is striking. Apparently,all their trees were felled for charcoal up until the 19th century; grazing of Iceland’s long haired sheep put paid to the rest. On leaving the
city Valur had pointed out Friends Forest
– evergreen trees planted by visiting dignitaries and celebrities. When the trees had barely grown much more
than when planted a couple of years later – the city fathers involved in the
exercise complained to the company in Norway only to be told there was nothing
wrong, these were the dwarf evergreens they had ordered. This gave rise to the
humour ‘Should you get lost in a forest in Iceland, just stand up’!
It was raining as we approach our next stop where we were
also to have lunch. Valur mentioned our tour group most conveniently, in view of the weather, been given the early 11.30 a.m. booking. We looked at our
watches it was almost that time... By the time we'd exited the coach (another five minutes had passed A break in the weather occurred and
George felt we should grab the opportunity to view Skogafoss and hopefully take the obvious pathway cut into the side
of the mountain to a viewing platform above it before the next weather change. It helped to
stride briskly out across the very wet and somewhat muddy flood plain in chilly winds to enjoy the 60m high waterfall before tackling the steep steps along
with slippery mud path until we reached the 527 metal steps leading to the viewing
platform that overlooked the crest of the falls. (Photo 5) It took some doing getting
up and down and we fell into the very few, amongst our tour party, that achieved
it. The view across to the coast made the slog worth it. The other poor souls had to
contend with drizzle while we comfortably relaxed over lunch. By the time they
were on the homeward trail - the sun came out briefly for us to enjoy a brighter
lighting across Skogafoss.
After lunch and a few more kilometres onwards we reached the
Solheimajokull glacier, a gradually
retreating outlet glacier lying below the Myrdalsjokull ice cap providing us
another brisk walk along the edge of the ancient glacial passage.
Then it was down to the coast to look at a black beach; or
so we thought! Nothing prepared us for Reynisfjara
(Black) beach at the southernmost tip of Iceland. Totally unknown to us, it
is famed for its beauty and the tall stacks offshore. Such striking scenery with
wild and dangerous rollers of the Atlantic crashing onto the strangely
beguiling back beach with its pebbles; threatening to take the life of any
careless tourist. We have seen wonderful columnar basalt formations in
Australia - (Sawn Rocks, Queensland) but the Halsanefshellir cavern at the foot of towering cliffs ((formed
when magma cools slowly and cracks into hexagonal column) was a mind blowing
sight and the entire scene was definitely a highlight of our trip. Normally
home to puffin colonies, sadly they'd already departed for warmer climes.
Rather than return home through the mountains Valur and our
coach driver decided we had time in hand to return along the coast and stop in
at the old fishing village of Eyrarbakki.
Once, Iceland’s only trading post, it was used to accommodate people evacuated
from the Vestmannaeyjar (Westman)
Islands (*) after an eruption there in 1973.
Here, we were to see the best collection of traditional, colourful
wooden houses. This is what we had expected in Iceland hence our initial
disappointment at seeing a predominant number of large, dreary looking block
building more like warehouses and the very few typical coloured homes, spread
thinly around the capital city.
We found fish drying in odd places – under a boardwalk
leading up to the beach; strung out under open beams in the park. How fish dries in that climate beats us.
(*) An archipelago of 15 islands off the south coast of Iceland which came
to international attention in 1973 with the eruption of the Eldfell volcano
which forced a month long evacuation of the entire population to mainland
Iceland. Approximately one fifth of the town involved was destroyed before the
lava flow was halted by application of 6.8 billion litres of cold sea water.
Our extraordinary taster of Iceland came to an end. On the
Thursday Valur and our coach took us out to the airport in plenty of time
for our 9 a.m. departure. At the departure gate we met up with Louise and Rob.
They hadn’t seen anything on their whale trip the previous ‘good’ day to us,
not even a dolphin.
Never mind the weather, this had been a most interesting
country and we had only seen a tip of it.
We certainly fancied a return merely to take the outer ring road around
the perimeter of Iceland – doing our grey nomad thing! Thank you Justine and Dan, thank you.
