It seems like forever since I last blogged, and apparently we have taken over 150 pictures that I want to put in this post. In reality, only seven days have elapsed. But when one factors in each day having 20 hours of solid daylight I suppose it adds up.
If I were writing for a paying audience I would edit the last week into something concise and entertaining, but then I would have to leave stuff out. I do not want to leave anything out. I want to write it all down so my future self (hi future self) can scroll through and reminisce. Buckle up, this is going to be a long one.
Day Zero: Last Sunday we left Hvolsvöllur to go to Borgarnes. On the way we did a bunch of stuff I mentioned in my last post, including accidentally losing two of our frisbee golf discs off of a small mountain. Jon shared these photos with me after I had already posted about it, so, as if we did not have enough content from this week, here are two bonus photos from last Sunday.
Picnicking off of our doomed frisbees at the top of Litla Dímon.
Axel and I, noticeably empty handed, but still smiling.
On Sunday evening we drove to Borgarnes, which included a dive through the Hvalfjörður tunnel, burrowing under a fjord for four miles and dropping down low enough that my ears popped. Even Jon was a little weirded out by this tunnel.
Once we arrived we found we were staying in the Viking Studio at Egil's (pronounced AYE-itil) Guesthouse. The studio had cute Viking decor and a view of Hafnarfjall, a dramatically eroded slope that faces the town from across the fjord to the south.
Axel sitting on his sofabed in the Viking Studio with Hafnarfjall seen out the front door.
View from the street.
Drinking wine, wearing a viking hat, and considering the fjall. Fjall means mountain so this is Hafnar's Mountain.
After we got all settled into the studio Jon cooked up a dinner of farfalle with pesto and some smoky lamb sausage that is everywhere here. Side note, there are over 500,000 sheep in Iceland. As with anything Jon cooks, it was very tasty and we gobbled it up. After dinner we relaxed a bit and Axel and Jon played cards (Magic the Gathering). By then it was about 11:30pm, perfect for a twilight stroll.
Jon with Borgarnes in the background.
Jon on the path leading from town out to Brákarey Island.
The sculpture in honor of Brák.
Axel looks out at Borgarnes.
Axel and I.
Then there was a cat. It came right up to us.
It asked me to pick it up so I obliged.
The kitty smelled like laundry detergent and had a little bell, so I think it came straight from one of the Borgarnes homes, probably after napping the evening away in a basket of clean laundry.
Some street art about Egill's Saga with the Viking Studio in the background. It is the tan door on a white building in back right.
Day One: Jon was still very tired from his 200km bicycle race so we decided to do low-key activities. We set forth for the Reykholt Valley. The first stop was Krauma, a fancy hot springs nearby. We also brought a picnic to eat somewhere afterward. After that Jon had to work a little bit because he had a big project that no vacation could excuse him from. Luckily it was a database reporting project (my specialty) so we were able to do it together and get it done more quickly. I have been on proper vacation from my work since the 21st of July so I did not mind flexing the brain a bit.
As we drove to Krauma we could see the geothermal activity in the distance.
Following the plume of steam, we arrived.
The walk to the building was steamy.
Low visibility.
Here you can see - maybe, through the steam - a sign warning the water is 100 degrees Celsius (aka boiling). One must be cautious near geothermal sites as simply walking the wrong way can cause a burn.
This is a picture of Krauma I found on Trip Advisor for reference.
There were pools of varying heat at Krauma; 41-43 was the hottest all the way down to an 8 degree cold pool as well as a steam room. Krauma has essentially what the town pools of Iceland offer, only fancied up with modern black design and poolside cocktails.
We did not partake in the fancy cocktails but we did drink the free water, which is delicious from the tap everywhere in Iceland. We also saved money by bringing our own towels and packing a picnic to eat elsewhere later. Food and beverage can be very expensive in Iceland so picnics and BYOB are a good way to keep the costs down.
I had scoped out a picnic spot online before we set out, but when we arrived it was already occupied. Jon searched and found a park called Borgarfjarðar in nearby Reykholt and, boy, were we fortunate the first place was occupied. We happened upon an amazing place for a home-packed meal. There was a horse paddock and a sod covered hut. Inside the hut was a table and sawed off logs for chairs.
The hut from the outside.
The happy picnickers. Here my home-brought towel doubles as a picnic blanket and tablecloth.
Jon gets a selfie of all of us.
The boys, mid-eat.
After all that we went back to the Viking Studio. While Jon did some work I walked to buy a few potatoes to go with the other smoky lamb sausage we still had. That plus some toasted bread from the local bakery made an easy dinner. On my walk I saw a red sign. To us, those mean "go to this thing if you can because there is something cool." I googled the signs and could not find their exact meaning but, basically, there are signs that look like this:
I think it is indicating historical landmarks, points of interest, and attractions. I have yet to be disappointed by one of these signs. The particular red sign I saw on my walk in Borgarnes (I do not have a pic of the sign, sorry) led me a half a block to a collection of sod-covered buildings.
On the right is a cozy building and on the left was a larger cow-shed type building with dividers for livestock.
These buildings were dug into the ground with walls of stacked stone. Above there is a wooden-framed roof structure to support the earth and sod. It was very similar to the place we picnicked.
A view of the cozier building from the outside.
Day Two: It would be cheating to not say that much of what I have been doing around Iceland and Italy this summer was inspired by my travelling buddy, Rick Steves. If you are ever in a European town looking for advice on what to do, Rick can be a great resource.
For me, I started with the guidebook months ago and used it to choose locations to stay around Iceland that we might use as a springboard for day trips. Staying in Borgarnes gave us easy access to the Reykholt Valley as well as the Snæfellsnes Peninsula, the latter of which was our adventuring grounds for day three. There were many stops, the first of which were the Gurðuberg Basalt Cliffs.
Jon on the slopes of the cliff.
Jon and Axel at the foot of the cliffs, for scale.
Axel selfie at the basalt.
Jon and Axel selfie at the basalt.
I watched the cliffs from a distance and instead sniffed around at the cool plants in the volcanic landscape. The bright greens, frosted with purple flowers, really popped against the carbon colored landscape.
After the cliffs we stopped for coffee and cake at Café Rjúkandi. Axel let me take his picture.
Then we stopped at Kirkjufellsfoss (foss means waterfall) with a view of Kirkjufell (fell means hill and kirk means church). Once you break down the Icelandic words things really get logical, and easier to say.
This is one of the most photographed places in all of Iceland, and we did our part for sure.
You may recognize this hill from north of the wall in Game of Thrones.
But with no snow in July.
Even pictures taken accidentally at Kirkjufell look good.
After Kirkjufell we ventured on to the town of Ólafsvík; vík means bay, so this town is basically called Ólaf's Bay. We liked Ólaf's place because he has a kick-ass disc golf course. We did lose one disc but we found two more to replace it.
The round started with a bit of clouds.
But the weather quickly became lovely.
Axel and Jon make their way up the fairway.
Axel in short sleeves.
After disc golf we went to Svöðufoss. We just stood in the parking lot instead of walking up the falls. It had become a little chilly and there were many more sights to visit.
Next stop was Hellissandur, for more coffee and a tour of their street art.
It is the street art capital of Iceland here. I'll just let you see for yourself...
Hellissandur is at the entrance to Snæfellsjökull National Park. The mountain here attracts all sorts of characters, including those who theorize aliens live in the glacier.
Next we climbed Saxhóll Crater, which has convenient shallow stairs to ascend its 360 foot height. This is the view from the stairs.
The boys at the tip top.
Next up was Djúpalónssandur Black Sand Beach. This was a tour in and of itself. First there was a stone path that looked straight out of Tolkien, then the remains of the Epine, a ship that beached here 80 years ago, there was also a field of "lava pearls", and of course the tricky North Atlantic ocean, offering to grab any inattentive visitor with unexpected sneaker waves.
The boys on the stone path.
At the bottom of the path were stones one could lift to see if they qualify to be an Icelandic fisherman.
Potential fisherman examine the stones.
Apprently there is surfing in Iceland, somewhere. Not this break though.
Axel watches for sneaker waves.
But then climbs 20 feet up the slippery basalt.
I cannot watch and just have to go.
Axel, hepped up from lifting fisherman stones, throws a large rock in Jon's direction.
Axel in the stone window.
Day Three: We left Borgarnes for the Skagafjördúr area on Wednesday and stayed in the Syðra-Skörðugil guesthouse that evening. The house was a converted cowshed with six bedrooms where we shared a kitchen and two bathrooms with a French couple named Celine and Benjamin as well as a family from San Diego. There were also some unfamiliar faces at breakfast so they must have got in late.
On the drive we saw lots of horses.
And the ubiquitous sheep. These ones were on the road and Jon had to stop for them to clear. As we passed the white one tossed its horns at us to show us who was the boss in these parts.
We stopped at a folk museum called Byggðasafn Húnvetninga & Strandamanna. Say that ten times fast. It was the perfect way to break up the drive to the north. We were the only visitor that day and received fermented shark and a private tour.
A drawing of a shark fisherman's stone lifting technique.
After arriving at the guesthouse, Jon was able to get out on a short bike ride. Here is a photo he took of his bicycle with a church.
The guesthouse kept horses with lovely euro-mullets.
Jon pets the horse's muzzle.
Day Four: On Thursday we travelled from the Skagafjörður area to Iceland's northern capital, Akureyri. But before leaving the area we did a bunch of stuff. First we went for an epic horseback ride and then we played disc golf, and then visited the Glaumbær Farm Museum and Turfhouse.
Isar and I. My first time on a horse!
Out in the countryside. Our guide, Maya, was riding Pocus and Axel, in the foreground, is on the fiesty Þor.
Family portrait of us on the horses.
Isar was thirsty. Jon reports his horse, Kongur, was very hungry and kept stopping to eat blueberries.
Isar and I in a post-ride selfie.
Axel holding his horses. Literally.
Off-shore of the area we went riding is puffin headquarters. We stopped at a coffee shop that boasted their patronage.
After coffee and golf we stopped at a sheep farm that had a sign saying they made and sold sweaters. Jon purchased a very fine sweater and has been wearing it daily since. I call it Viking techwear. The elderly proprietress, and probably the maker of the sweater, was in the 2% of locals who do not speak English. We were still able to communicate. She handed me a business card and emphasized the washing instructions inscribed there.
From the sheep farm and sweater maker, we drove on to another farm, this one historic and active only in farming tourists. The Glaumbær was once, 1000 years ago, the home of Gudrid Thorbjarnardóttir. Gudrid is famous for having travelled all over, including Canada, New Foundland, Greenland, Iceland, and even Rome. The adjacent grassy fields of Glaumbær are said to be where her house (no longer there, or perhaps buried) was located.
The Icelanders have good records from that time period, but then a gap and decline during the 14th and 15th centuries, in which the plague disrupted everything and killed many. In that period the thread of certainty on the history of some of these locations is lost, but now archaeology is coming along in support of the old stories.
The turf houses at Glaumbær.
Jon in his new sweater.
Me pretending to cook at the old hearth, last used in 1910. The house itself was actively lived-in until the 1940's but I suspect some woman of the new century decided to give up the smoky old cookhouse in favor of something more modern.
Jon and I looking out the door onto the grass that was, maybe, Gudrid's place.
In front of what now serves as an emergency exit.
Just missing a pitchfork.
A chess set inside of the turf houses.
The house also had an old cousin of the violin.
After the Glaumbær we drove the rest of the way to Akureyri: home for the next four nights. We have rented the apartment of an Icelandic family of five who, like us, rent out their actual house while away. If Glaumbær was a folk museum of life in the 1700's then this is a folk museum of 2022 Iceland.
Day Five: Earlier in this post, aka 10,000 pages ago, I mentioned we had lost frisbees. We started off Friday in search of new plastic. Then we played a lot of disc golf with said plastic as well as visiting a bakery called Axel's Bakari.
All the red lights in Akureyri are heart-shaped.
This is an entrance to an indoor mall in Iceland.
Inside this mall we found the goods.
And then we threw the goods.
Jon in his Viking Tech.
Works well for a chilly disc golf round.
Later I went to the Akureyri pool.
Then I rode a Hopp scooter home while the boys played even more disc golf. Back at the kitchen I made an Icelandic fish soup. It was pretty good but probably not as good as the locals make.
Day Six: The Myvatn Lake area of North Iceland is a wonderland of amusements for outdoorsy types. Yesterday, with the help of Rick Steves, we saw almost all of them. The first stop was Goðafoss, a waterfall in which an Icelandic lawman, under pressure from Norway, outlawed paganism and threw all his pagan statues into the falls. Goða means god and foss, as you know, means waterfall. So these are the Godfalls because the gods fell in.
I would not be so happy if the Norwegian Christians were making me convert.
It was a bit chilly up there.
If you hike up high enough you can walk down to the river.
Next up we went to Grjótagjá Thermal Cave. Gorgeous. The water was about 40 degrees Celsius, very nice for a soak, but alas it is forbidden to bathe this pool. Does it look familiar? I'll give you a hint:
This was the pool in Game of Thrones where Jon Snow broke his oath to the Night's Watch.
Here is another Jon, but not Jon Snow, at the pool.
Selfie at the pool
After checking out the Grjótagjá Cave, it was off to Námafjall Thermal Area. This is like a mini-Yellowstone. The only drawback was being downwind of the fumes.
Stinky
But lovely
Forbidden mud bath
The neck gators serve multiple purposes.
I did not mind the smell as much as Axel, who returned to the car.
The drive back to Akureyri was scenic.
Here we have a 90 kph photobomber.
We did hit up just a couple more disc golf courses before returning to the apartment.
Once back at the apartment, we made more messes than pizzas in this pizza oven.
Trying not to mess it up.
Yeah, it's messed up.
We finished the pizzas in skillets on the stove because the top would burn but the bottom would be raw.
Day Seven: Today I went back to the pool while Jon did a bike ride, then the boys when 4x4 driving somewhere. Axel may or may not have learned to drive a stick shift on the gravel roads of Iceland today. Afterwards they went on a disc golf bender while I stayed back and wrote this monstrosity of a blog post. A week was too large an increment for an Icelandic road trip.
Tomorrow we are off to Reykyjavik for the last four nights of this summer adventure.
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