Day 2
Thursday, September 08, 2005
This morning, got up at a normal hour, seem to be adjusting to the time change (+6 hr).
We couldn't pick up the Internet access, Wi-Fi at the hotel, (advertised to be free of charge), and while on the phone with the skilled actress at the front desk, the phone just totally went dead! (Yesterday, blew that fuse to the entire 3rd floor)! Now, no Internet, nor phone! We were really beginning to wonder what we'd gotten into, here!
Anyway, we moseyed downstairs, and had a sumptuous breakfast, in the elegant Palm Court Restaurant - white linen dining. Fresh salmon, meats, cheeses, eggs, assorted fresh fruit and juices, oh, and a new type of yogurt - coffee-flavored with granola already mixed in - what a great idea!
Immediately after breakfast, we decided to explore the area just N. of Reykjavik, the beautiful Borgannes Peninsula, and a bit of the Interior, via the Akranes Region, and the town of Reykholt, a tourist spot, and home of the legendary Snorri Sturrelson, local poet, warrior hero, and statesman.
We'd heard about and seen the spectacular pictures of Svartifoss and Barnafoss (the latter is translated as "Children's Falls, which includes it's own legend of children wandering off and disapearing into the falls), - so off we went in search of those.
Stopped at the Shell Station, just before hitting the main hwy out of town, got gas - (around $1.50/liter = $8.40/Gal egad), and after washing the windows, discovered there were no towels to dry the streaks. (Later learned that the paper is always inside the service station, on a huge dispenser roll). I got one of my best photos of Flaxafloi Bay, which lovely Reykjavik is situated so perfectly upon, from this stop, in fact. And we hadn't even gotten to the hwy, yet . . . see below:
Taken from the Shell Station
We drove through this newly constructed, 8-mi. long "Whale Tunnel," cutting through a mountainside, as well as underneath a wide fjord (finger lake) directly under the Borgannes Peninsula. (This cuts nearly 2 hours off the drive around the Peninsula) to get into the next region. . .
(See Reykjavik on the SW coast, marked by red star?) The first finger lake (fjord) N of that, is where the Whale Tunnel cuts through. . . Borgannes is just N. of that, and Snaefellsness Peninsula is the very large Peninsula, just N of that, in the middle of the West Coast.
So, after an hour or so, driving this beautiful coastal hwy, we detoured off into the Interior, in search of these two legendary falls. We drove back and forth, and around and around, and decided that either the falls had dried up, or were just not where they were depicted on our map. The latter was the case, as we found out later. They are reachable only after a considerable hike. And, we had much ground to cover, that day.
We drove a short distance to the town of Reykholt, and stopped at the Visitors Center. We were treated to a most informative private tour of the Center, which happened to be the home of the most famous Icelandic Saga Writer, Warrior and Poet, Snorri Sturrelson.
Note: Egil Skallagrimsson = Life of Snorri Sturrelson
His statue graced the courtyard, just in front of the school, named after him, and the ruins of his home and his private hot tub were there for visitors to see. Many items of memorabilia were housed in the Center / Museum / Library, there, including the original hand-scripted document proclaiming Iceland's Independence.
We were taken on a private tour of the church, and I was allowed to play the Icelandic Steinway piano in the main sanctuary, there. . . I played a snippet from "Rhapsody in Blue" befitting the day. . .
We toured the grounds, and climbed the bell tower (only to find the top observation door locked, and deck closed for repairs). Picked up some books about Iceland, the language, myths, lore, photos, etc., and finally headed out for our main destination of the day - Mighty Snaefellsness Peninsula and Mountain!
The drive along the W. Coast was spectacular, changing every few miles. One unique mountain and fjord, after another.
It is said that Snaefellsjokul (Snaffle Volcano) is one of the 7 greatest "power centers" on earth. And, as we got closer and closer to it, we could easily understand why. Just the jaw-dropping size and magnitude of it, easily made a believer out of us!
It was nearly 200 miles of this breathtaking scenery, just one vista after another, from waterfalls out of nowhere, jagged mountains some black, some laced with colorful pink, yellow, red and green rhyolite, some snow-capped - to these bizarre statue-like formations in the black lava fields, to pastoral farms with free-roaming Icelandic sheep and cattle, then on to crystal-clear volcanic lakes, and mountain streams;
. . .and we may have passed 2 or 3 cars the entire way! Can you imagine going to Yosemite or to Yellowstone Park, and seeing no people there? And the weather! We drove, hugging the Northern Atlantic Ocean, (not too awfully far from the Arctic Ocean), under a brilliant, clear, afternoon sun, while the mountain range on the other side of the road was seemingly subject to its own weather system - black clouds and fog, containing icy sleet, at the top. . .
About a third ot the way out to the end of the Peninsula, we began to see some tiny fingers of a waterfall, in the mountainside. We stopped the car to take some pics, and I decided to run ahead, on foot, to what looked like a vantage point.
The waterfall that looked so close, turned out to be miles away, so got back in the car, and drove down a couple of increasingly rugged, dirt roads, before coming to the end of any civilized roadway, to take a few pics, and finally, getting back onto our trail.
It was particularly dramatic with the late afternoon sun sparkling off the water and mist, beneath a bank of gathering storm clouds, to the N, over the mtns.
We continued our journey to the end of the Peninsula, to Mighty Snaefellsjokul! The blacktop road came to a fork, with a tiny wooden sign pointing up (and I do mean UP), a dirt path lined with very large, loose rocks. I thought about the tiny, little Toyota Corolla we were driving, and God, and Life! How we were to get UP THE SIDE OF THIS THING? If this next pic gives you any idea what was going through my my brain at that moment, (and let's not forget the gathering storm) . . .
. . . And did I say UP THE SIDE OF THE VOLCANO? None of this namby-pamby American winding and lolly-gagging around the mountainside till you eventually, some-day get to the top. In Iceland, they cut right to the quick - in 20 mins, you're at the top, and God help you if you should encounter another car - because the road is ONE LANE, STRAIGHT (and I do mean STRAIGHT) UP AND DOWN!
. . . Fortunately we did not encounter another vehicle, on the other hand, there was not another vehicle, NOR soul in sight for hundreds of MILES, as far as we could see, in case of emergency. But, yes the view was breathtaking from even halfway up . . . Do you see another car in sight? Do you even see a road?
Well, we made it to the top, and aside from having a near-stroke heart rate, it was the most incredible feeling, I've ever imagined! However, the Jokul had devised its own weather system, the gathering storm, I mentioned, to possibly keep us polluting American warmongers away! It was now turning into a steady sleet, (sort of the consistency of a snow cone) - as the sky turned volcano-black, and visibility was nearing zero! (Thus, no pics at this point, I'm sure my hands were shaking, anyway!)
We knew the danger we were in, and we had to make a decision, fast; whether to continue down the other side, if there even WAS another road down that side, or turn around in the one-lane rock pile, and risk getting stuck, and go down the way we came - and time was running out. Rock slides are not uncommon along a mountainous path, not to mention the predicament of getting stuck, or any number of other perils of driving a Toyota up a very pompously-behaving volcano!
And so, back down the mountain we crawled, the way we had come, the way we knew. Turning around was an adventure, unto itself! Then, the utter humiliation of doing so. And, finally, down we went. And, finally, we were out of the sleet, and I could breathe a sigh of relief. Someday, someone may understand what we just did. Although, at that moment, I really wasn't too sure about anything.
We had a few more minutes before dark, and continued the steep descent from the peak of death, and finally stopped at this mysterious cave, "Songhellir" - so called for the eerie voices and singing of dwarfs (In Iceland a dwarf is actually 8-10 feet tall), heard from within, according to local lore. And if you doubt Dwarfs, you haven't been to Iceland!
The view from here, was indescribable, (is that a word?) and worth every bit, the treacherous journey to get there. It is easy to see how Jules Verne conceived the entire synopsis for "Journey to the Center of the Earth", after one visit here. . .
. . . Zeus' Picnic Table on top of the world!
We possessed a clear view of all four - ocean, volcanic mountain, God, and sky, one of those rare quatrains, and all through an elf's spyglass! Possibly more common in Japan, maybe Alaska, maybe to some extent Hawaii but, certainly not back home, in Chicago!
The sun was just setting in the W, (does the sun set in the W, here? Yes, of course, it does)! And the view was just unbelievable, as we continued our trek back to safer ground! And, once again, the reference points are so obscure, it is hard to tell if you are on a mountain, or in a Midwestern wheat field from this pic!
At one point, about halfway down, there was a rocky peak, jutting up into the clouds, above the mighty ocean, reminding me of Cristo standing atop Corcovado Mtn in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. But with NO PEOPLE - ANYWHERE!
Any resemblance to Rio de Janeiro's Corcovado Mtn?
Rio de Janeiro's Corcovado Mtn.
And that is the story of Snaefellsjokul! It was the thrill of a lifetime! Now, trying to describe it, is a challenge, in itself. Dear Volcano - I apologize for not doing you justice! Mere mortal words cannot begin to describe you. You are simply AWESOME!
Continuing the journey - next was the approx. 250-mile drive back to Reykjavik, and a quieter-than-death meal at the upscale restaurant, next to the Borg - for incredibly fresh fish and chips, (well, they were out of chips), and conversation with some locals, inviting us to a party, the next Saturday night. (Which we had to decline, due to leaving Sat. for Keflavik, to visit the Blue Lagoon Spa).
We walked over to the Cafe Cosy for a Viking Beer. Met Enrique, from Barcelona, Spain - an artist, who tends bar and sells his artwork - which line the walls of the cafe. Good Night. . .
THANK YOU SNAEFELLS-JOKUL for an incredible day, today!
