Iceland Captains Log Day 11

Day 11:

This morning, we woke up to an inconvenient realization about yesterday’s Captain Log: Half of it disappeared. I’m convinced tiny internet trolls (meaning the hidden people fromIslandic folk lore, not short computer hackers) stole Chelsea’s second email. So, to summarize the end of yesterday...

1. Successfully completed Glymur Hike;

2. Hiked a never ending steep incline to reach a river hot spring nestled in a valley 45 mins outside of Reykjavík;

3. Drank wine in river;

4. Finished hike just in time for the local cultural day fireworks display.

Last night’s campsite was overflowing with people so we decided an early morning would be best to beat the crowds. Thus, our arrival in Reykjavik left us with plenty of time to explore the local bakeries. The first, Braud, was housed in a delightfully colorful building coated in graffiti. Here, we treated ourselves to flakey deliciousness in the forms of a cinnamon bun and Parmesan croissant. Both tasted as if they’d been soaked in butter. We plan to return for tomorrow’s breakfast. At the second, Stanhold, we split a brown sugar bun and hot chocolate. 

We checked into our hotel, said good-bye to our well-loved and muddy van, and headed out to explore the city. We then spent the day strolling down the stone streets, people-watching and (mostly) window-shopping. To mix up our city adventure, we purchased tickets to the evening’s comedy “How to become and Icelander in 60 minutes” at the famous Harpa Music Hall.

The city built the Harpa Music Hall shortly after the country declared bankruptcy. A five year, multi-million dollar project, the building was the largest music center ever for the country and is now famous for the honeycomb glass structure. A few windows contain off colored glass and resemble rainbow fish scales. 

The comedy show put smiles on our faces for our last night in Iceland. We are excited to return home and even more excited to do some laundry. 

Logging off,

Audrey and Chelsea

Iceland, Captains Log Day 10

Day 10:

Tonight's late because we had a FULL last day with the car. It started early (though less early than we'd planned, at Kirkjufell. Actually we ended up camping around it last night, and wound up with such spectacular views we had to give you a peek at the camper van life. Anyways, Kirkjufell is the most photographed mountain in Iceland, famous for this shot that captures an old bridge, a waterfall, and of course, the mountain. We got that shot, although ours was hampered by fellow nosey tourists who read the same blogs we did. Didn't matter. It's special anyways. From that special angle, it looks very conical (I say lonely mountain, Audrey argues for a sorting hat shape) but this is where research can be deceiving. 

All the photos I have seen of the mountain have been from this special vantage point so I was scouring the skyline for the tell-tale pointy silhouette but seeing long loaf-like mountains instead. Imagine my surprise when, while ogling a particularly beautiful specimen, Google maps unexpectedly announced our arrival! We tooled around a little last night before settling in but left the real sightseeing to this morning. It started with the waterfall, which should be a stop in its own right. Two tiers of graceful liquid plunging into mossy outcrops and nestled amongst green burls (it feels like the appropriate word). Across the road stands a mountain of several layers, looking deceivingly pointy even though we know it's true form. It's still lovely and we nab the pic, then we wander the rest of the path (where I become MORE invested in the beautiful wall of opposing mountain) and then make our way back to the van. Next stop snuafu...snuf..snæfelus....Snæfellsnes, home of the library of water.

It's not too far away but when we got there, we immediately knew something was up. There were Danish flags and red and white balloons everywhere which is weird, you know, considering we were in Iceland. We followed directions to the tippy top of the one hill in the city, to the end of a residential Street where an unassuming yellow building overlooked the bay. This yellow building had frosted glass on the door confirming it was the library of water, and it was decidedly closed, despite our arriving during open hours. A sign saif to reference the volcano museum in the town below with questions, so back down we went. Long story short, today was one of the Danish Days (DD) where Icelanders celebrate their close ties with the Danes who were the original settlers  It's still unclear how this relates to the swarms of small children in costumes, but it did wind up feeling very festive. 

Because of DD both museums were free so we checked out the volcano museum (which had a warhol!) Before heading back up the hill to the library of water with a door code and instructions to remove our shoes to protect the floor. Yes. Like a good friend lending you the car, we were given free, solitary reign of this small museum featuring the water of twelve Icelandic glaciers, one of which is now extinct. It sits at the precipice of a small hill and looks out over the bay and a small lighthouse with unsurpassable views. Audrey spent most of her time in here while I wandered the columns tapping, listening, hugging, and intensely scrutinizing in the vain search for differences. On a non-molecular level I have been forced to conclude that water is water. Still it's a cool idea and like any other archived material, will long outlast it's subject. This took a little less time than expected, and we felt like bulky American Intruders on the DD festivities so we quickly moved on to our next stop, another of my highlighted/starred/underlined parts of the itinerary; Hraunfossar. 

Hraunfossar is another one of those shorter/ less powerful waterfalls I immediately bonded with. It comes directly out of the side if a mountain for several hundred yards before cascading into the most deeply teal colored river I have ever seen. It shares a parking lot and hiking path with a smaller waterfall called barnafoss. We saw barnafoss first, marveling at an arch of basalt and the color of the water but we were stopped in our tracks by Hraunfossar. It's everything it looks like in pictures but amped up to an 11, and I am officially besotted. I couldn't even pose for pictures properly because it was so hard to tear my eyes away. It has so many different types of fall: from the traditional to slow and meandering streams and gushes that spread across the store surface in a glittering veil of water. After I had lingered long enough, we went back to the car with a whole half a day undecided. 

After some close inspection of the map and the selective application of various honed forms of google-foo, we decided to squeeze in another hike before giving up our loyal van and returning to the streets of Reykjavik. West Iceland's tour website helpfully suggested a four hour jaunt up to Iceland's highest waterfall, glymur, only an hour fifteen away so we grabbed out food for lunch on the road and got going. 

The drive into the valley glymur calls home is pretty stunning and we were excited about the hike and our on-the-fly resourcefulness as we pulled into a pretty popular parking lot. We geared up and started, but began to doubt the 'legitimacy' of the hike as we saw the quality of some of the returning groups. Still, we were committed and we continued in. It's quickly became more of a challenge; first there was a steep traverse through a cave and out through an arch on the other side before crossing a river with the assistance of a rope stung across the Gap and a log conveniently placed for the second half. From there we used mire helpfully strung lengths of rope to scale steep paths both up and down the sides if various ridges on order to make it to glymur on the right side of the river to see the waterfall properly. Glymur is a bit of a tease, always showing just a bit of mist of a small glimpse of it's upper reaches before disappearing behind another bend so we didn't get a proper look until pretty close to the top. What we lacked in anticipatory overlooks of the waterfall were made-up for in more sweeping vistas into the canyon and back out into the valley as we continued to climb. 

Iceland, Captains Log Day 9

Day 9:

This morning started with sugar. Lots of sugar. After spending a week and a half mildly disappointed by the lack of sweetness in a variety of Nordic foods, this sugar shock was almost enough to bring on a comatose state. 

The culprit causing my insulin rush, a single caramel donut, was purchased at a bakery in the center of Akureyri for breakfast. Chelsea wisely stopped after trying a single bite and continued eating her own croissant. Two fresh hot chocolates accompanied our food (what do you expect from two girls who don’t really drink coffee?). 

Akureyri turned out to be a sleepy town and most attractions did not open until 10am. We faced a six hour drive and decided not to linger. We did stop to see the main church (architecturally confused and not our cup of tea - it failed to meet the high standards set by the multi-colored mini steeples scattered accross the countryside). The church’s high vantage point provided the perfect overlook to spot a steel ship statue. Venturing closer, the art soon became our personal favorite gem of the city. The poetically minimalist ship appeared to float across sky in a sleek and stylistic embodiment of Nordic culture. 

After Akureyri, the first leg of our drive led us to... *insert drum roll here* .... HVITSERKUR!! 

Also known as the giant rock from my computer desktop that I’ve been waiting to see!!! The amount of exclamation points needed to properly encompass my excitement seems excessive, so I’ll leave it at mentioning their absence.

The massive black formation stood triumphantly in the crashing waves awaiting our arrival. Because of its proximity to shore, the dragon shaped beast managed a surprising entrance into our field of vision. The lurking structure was hidden from our view in the parking lot by a steep drop-off. We scrambled down to the equally dark sands at the base of the cliff for closer inspection.

Sharing our beach time with the landmark, a professional photographer instructed a women too fashionably bundled to be your average tourist. Her elven demeanor will likely encourage the sale of her beautiful wool coat and funky black shoes. In stark contrast to her disdainfully harsh expression, our giggling faces and jumping stances evidenced who had the better photo shoot. 

Chelsea next treated me to an extra hot spot not originally on our itinerary, hrünnalaug (might of missed a few accents in there). The intimate tub settled beneath a “secret” waterfall next to a one-room cabin straight of a Tolkien novel - with Celtic dragons forming the gable. Moss covered rocks added to the fairy-tale effect of the experience. We consider Hrünnalaug as our brief dip into the Western Fjords since our travels could not fully venture into that section of the island. Next time. 

More stories to come, our journey continues tomorrow in the western most finger of the island.

Logging off,

Audrey & Chelsea 

Iceland, Captains Log Day 8

Day 8:

So Lake Myvatn is rainy. We, intuitive travelers that we are, have figured this out over the last few days while sightseeing in the area, and have started to bank on a drizzle starting around 1 pm and extending through to about 8:30am the next morning. This small window of a dry period is something I have decided to interpret as the opportunity to sleep in. 

Consequently, we got up a little late today, did all of our morning rituals, and made our way over to our first stop of the day: Grjótagjá. Funnily enough, Google Maps actually directed us to a parking area with signs pointing one way to Grjótagjá (1.4km) and another towards a big pile of black dirt (Hverfjall). Since we had come to see Grjótagjá, we followed that sign. It led us through a meandering trek into the little purple flowers we have been seeing all throughout our trip (alpine lady's mantle- I FINALLY found out the proper name), fanciful lava rock formations, and a carpeting of lime green growth. Like much of the rest of Iceland, the vegetation grows to be about 2 feet tall and covers everything in sight. Needless to say, it was a lovely walk, which crossed the actual parking area for Grjótagjá near the end. We did not regret the walk. Grjótagjá is a deep thermal pool nestled in a cave. Well, they sold it to us as a cave, but my interpretation was more of a coordinated rock fall that resulted in some precariously balanced rock ceiling. Its been on my desktop for a while and it did not disappoint. Deeply cerulean and clear enough to see all the way into the bottom, and buried, but with enough sunlight filtered through to make it glow. Unfortunately, it is too hot to swim in because of recent (a few years ago) volcanic activity that would quickly result in human cookery. A bummer since it was spectacular.

After spending a little time in abject wonder, we made our way back along the path and pondered the other sign. Hverfjall. This did not make it on my list, and before reading the informational sign, I was not clear on what it was. For the record, it is the crater of a H.U.G.E volcanic eruption a couple thousand years ago. Since Audrey was feeling pent-up from too many days away from the gym, we had a go at the steep incline up its outer slope and wound up with some spectacular views across the valley. The crater itself is also pretty impressive, towering 420m above the parking lot, we could see steam rising the nature baths, mountains rising up on several sides, far across the lake, and also make out a strange crater of green and lava that wasn't our walk. Audrey dubbed this 'Jurassic Park'.

Once we had seen our fill, and allowed our heart rates to slow a little, we made our way back down and to the next stop on our itinerary: an area filled with lava columns and other extraordinary formations called Dimmuborgir. Turns out, Dimmuborgir is Jurassic Park (cue excited giggles from Audrey). While we spotted zero brontosaurus, we did find a winding series of paths continuing the theme of our earlier walk, but on steroids. Imagine Arches National Park reimagined in black, and filled-in with silver birch trees and even more gawking tourists looking for the perfect artistic shot (what? I didn't say we were one of them...) . I could go on and on, but instead I will just tell you about the highlight, a cave with arches on either side and dubbed the church. It deserved the name. There was something humbling and a little haunting about it, with the peaked entry mirrored on both sides and ombre effect on the edges, opening up into a vaulted ceiling and presiding over a landscape of sculptural twists rising from the undergrowth.

From there, we rounded the southern tip of the lake (spotted with islands, picturesque barns, and the eternal sheep) to reach Godafoss. So I've been waiting for this waterfall. A) I love the origin of the name. As the legend goes, a local leader hucked his pagan idols over the falls when Iceland converted to christianity in the year 1000. Im not sure that was enough for Odin to relinquish his claim to such a beautiful land, but there you have it. B) God is it beautiful (see what I did there?). Shorter than many of the other waterfalls we've seen, it sprawls across its ridge, and is the bright turquoise of a peacock feather, tumbling into a haze of white and interrupted by moss covered boulders. More than anything else, its division of a pillar of rock in the middle of the falls, resulting in a third, narrow falls is striking. I just sat there for a while and I can tell you now that the photos don't do it justice.

Reluctantly, we continued our journey on to the capital of the north (Akureyri). Good news was that an AirBNB and therefore a shower beckoned. Significantly bigger than pretty much anything we've seen since Reykjavik, I still am not convinced this town is much bigger than Laramie, but it was lovely to see grocery stores again as we need to restock the snacks and camp food. Audrey has her eye on that smooth Icelandic chocolate. After cleaning up and reveling in the space and hot water of our nights abode, we went back out into town and wandered the downtown area, drifting through the many outdoor gear stores (so many; Its dangerous!!) and tourist shops before deciding it was time for dinner. As a birthday gift, Audrey treated us to lamb steaks at a nice restaurant in Akureyri called Strikið.

Strikið is on the 5th floor and overlooks the fjord. It also serves up a fabulous lamb steak. As we have implied throughout this travelogue, the lamb in Iceland roam free. The Icelandic lamb has aimlessly wandered the hills and mountains of Iceland ever since Viking settlers first brought sheep to the country in the 9th century. In the autumn, farmers from around the country gather their sheep in cumulative sheepfolds where they separate the flocks. The herds are then brought inside before winter falls. It makes for really supple and flavorful lamb which Iceland is deservedly famous for and has some community spirt that makes me intensely jealous. Finally got some and it was beyond description, so I wont try, but we were those people so we have a picture to share. Hopefully that suffices. I'm digging this multi-day birthday celebration.

Anyways, we venture down into the west tomorrow, and are starting to miss home. See you all soon(ish).

Logging off,

Chelsea and Audrey

PS, a poem that kept running though my head at Godafoss. I had to share.

The Water Fall

by Mary Oliver

For all the said,

I could not see the waterfall

until I came and saw the water falling,

its lace legs and its womanly arms sheeting down,

while something howled like thunder,

over the rocks,

all day and all night –

unspooling

like ribbons made of snow,

or god’s white hair.

At any distance

it fell without a break or seam, and slowly, a simple

preponderance –

a fall of flowers – and truly it seemed

surprised by the unexpected kindness of the air and

light-hearted to be

flying at last.

Gravity is a fact everybody

knows about.

It is always underfoot,

like a summons,

gravel-backed and mossy,

in every beetled basin –

and imagination –

that striver,

that third eye –

can do a lot but

hardly everything. The white, scrolled

wings of the tumbling water

I never could have

imagined. And maybe there will be,

after all,

some slack and perfectly balanced

blind and rough peace, finally,

in the deep and green and utterly motionless pools after all that

falling?

Iceland, Captains Log Day 7

Day 7: 

Our morning started with a special gift: Gretta. The National Park Ranger clearly arrived at our van to help Chelsea begin her Icelandic Birthday. Gretta was casually the coolest person we’ve met in Iceland. With her unassuming demeanor and blue page-boy news cap, she presented a warm and helpful face to start our day (and provide coins needed to shower - clearly a savior) with a tentative knock asking if we’d paid to camp yet. 

We felt Gretta’s presen(t)ce the remainder of the day. Appropriate in a way because she guarded the gates (Welcome Center) to the capitol city of the Hidden People located in the Asbyrgi Cliffs. 

A picturesque trek up a canyon wall provided our first views of these cliffs. The hike, while a welcome stretch of the legs, did not prepare us for the stunning up close visuals of the valley below. The Hidden People sure know how to pick a location for their capitol city, complete -  of course - with concert halls. 

Just outside the National Park, we stopped at a local craft shop and purchased two beautiful Icelandic sweaters in the softest wool. Gretta totally would approve of our new wardrobe additions. (Plus, they were the cheapest sweaters we’d seen! Winning.) 

The woolly distractions caused a slight delay in our arrival to Húsavík and our whale watching tour, but we still pulled on our oversized, yellow wetsuit overalls and boarded the speedboat with the rest of the group. With rubber blue gloves in hand and high school science chemistry goggles on our faces, we straddled our seats and took off into the waves. (For safety, the seats in the speedboat more resembled a mechanical bull than conventional seats.) A group of women from Paris sat in front of us and they provided the best French squeals for our entertainment at each watery crash. 

Now comes the whale of a tale... No. Wait. The tail of the whale... Actually, both. Anyways.... 

Puffins, white-nosed dolphins, and humpback whales greeted us in the massive ocean bay. We learned that puffins can flap their wings up to 400 times/min. (probably to make up for their awkward body types - they are known as the Clowns of the Sea), they can see a color range three times greater than humans, and dive up to 60 meters. Our guide gave us zero facts about the dolphins (hope you weren’t expecting any), but we were surrounded by a pod that provided quite the spectacle. Next, whales. Humpback whales eat 1.5 tons of crill per day to prepare for summer migration. Iceland glacier melts provide phytoplankton that krill eat, thus the region is a hotspot for hungry whales. Bumps on the whales’ heads are used like cat whiskers to sense what is around them - they are full of air.  We had an especially active tour and got to party with five separate humpback whales. 

I do mean party. The tour served shots of the traditional Icelandic schnapps mid voyage. It tasted of black licorice - not our favorite flavor - but a warming relief from the biting wind on our speedboat journey to shore. 

Post-tour pizza, hot chocolate, and macaroons for the birthday girl warmed us up even more - but the best relief came from the Lake Myvtan Natural Baths. Although it was also the most tourist-y experience we’ve done with long lines, the semi-crowded pools still provided heated water and an overcast view of the lake. 

We eat pizza for dinner over some additional map charting. We hope Gretta continues to guide us on our journey. 

Logging off,

Audrey and Chelsea

Iceland, Captains Log Day 6

Day 6:

Today was...nice. It started pretty slowly with a leisurely morning ride to our the hike we had planned. On the way, we ran into the most Icelandic thing I have ever seen -- an adorable little solar powered vending machine stashed in a green closet in the middle of nowhere, papered with international greetings. We walked away with a roll of rollos (which Audrey promptly consumed) and a coke.

The hike was to a place called Stórurð, notorious for it's winding paths through Icelandic mountains, lakes and streams, and it did not disappoint. Despite a blustery outlook, we enjoyed the wild flowers (we even found a few wild blueberries I think, although I was too chicken to try them and find out for sure), streams, and perfect views until having to turn around a little early because of an intimidatingly vast storm bearing down on us at an alarming rate. 

Since we finished the hike a little early, we got a jump on some of the next stops on our itinerary: moving into the north towards Lake Myvatn. The drive brought us back out of the storybook forrest areas we'd been driving through and into the moonscape of our lost wanderings a few days ago. It made for less interesting driving so we made good time, even managing to sneak a quick nap in around the halfway point. We also hit hverir because it had been a long drive and we needed to stretch our legs. Hverir is a set of hot bubbling mud pits of orange, white, and occasionally blue. Objectively, it was pretty cool but it (naturally) smelled terrible. 

Next up, Dettifoss. Dettifoss is a monster of a waterfall, the most powerful in Europe actually, and is cheekily shy. Despite a haze of mist visible from the parking lot, the waterfall is nestled behind some cliffs and it's a good fifteen minutes of walking and a couple turns around the bend to finally see it. The walk also rewards the tenacious with some stunning views down the canyon, and access to a lesser known neighbor, just a 1.4 km hike past it's grander cousin. Despite being much less powerful, Selfoss was definitely our favorite sprawled along a kilometer or so of cliff edge, it could really be understood as a collective of several smaller falls all jockeying for space to take the dive. It was beautiful and an unexpected but lovely opportunity to hike some more after our earlier excursion was cut a little short. 

After the falls, we drove to our next stop (the Asbyrgi cliffs, which we plan to hike tomorrow) and which also hosts a lovely little campground we'll enjoy tonight. The Chicken ramen we had for dinner was the perfect warming capstone to a long and chilly day of wind and rain, and an evening watching Sinbad in the back of the van while I compose this log is a nice relaxed way to end it. 

Tomorrow, we watch whales and bathe in another hot spring. Happy birthday to me. 

Logging off,

Chelsea and Audrey 

Iceland, Captains Log Day 5

Day 5: 

Today was the day I got to sleep in. My head hit the pillow last night and I. was. out. Chelsea’s attempts to wake me to review the prior day’s Log entry could not break my peaceful slumber. The beds were miraculously comfortable and we woke up completely refreshed. After a delightful breakfast from our farmhouse hosts, we hit the road in search of our next hot pot. 

We were excited to see more valleys, waterfalls, and a secluded waterfall hot spring further inland. But, as the scenery continued to look more and more like home, our dumbfounded gazes out the car window dwindled - while still beautiful, no place can Colorado quite like Colorado can. A few quick turns and the views drastically transitioned into a rock filled desert without the luxury of paved roads (Yay. More gravel.). There were less exciting valleys, no waterfalls, and definitely no waterfall hot springs. Apparently there is such a thing as too secluded. 

The fruitless three hour search did yield our first WiFi-less (no GPS) traverse across a desolate region with the help of a road map and our “navigation skills.” Luckily, our worries about heading in the right direction paled in comparison to the worries of Mark Watney.

Who is Mark Watney? Mark has been our faithful companion these first few days. While I know you’re all desperately hoping we didn’t pick up a hitchhiker, truth is, we did. Just kidding. There are no extra seats in our van. 

Mark Watney is the protagonist of The Martian, the audio book Chelsea picked for me as the first book to read for fun in four years. Basically, an astronaut is stranded on Mars after his crew leaves him behind. An accident caused during an extreme windstorm had the crew thinking Mark was dead. Mark then uses his engineering skills, humor, and botanist knowledge to survive alone on the Martian wasteland. 

As Chelsea and I drove around our own moon craters, Mark’s hardships on Mars kept our mini adventure in astronomical perspective. 

Eventually (with no wrong turns), we made it back to the highway leading us to Seydisfjordur - a quaint coastal town home to the ferry landing. Mainland Europeans have the option to take a two day ferry ride to Iceland. Here, we  decided to try a Nordic sample platter - reindeer tartar, char (a local fish) two ways, black pudding, double smoked lamb, rye bread with chutney, and dried cod with butter - with a  side of hot cocoa. 

Our day ends at a campsite. Chelsea sits in back, working on an adult coloring book and eating (less-than-fizzy) fizzy lollipops. Tomorrow we hike. 

Photo Note: No, we did not take a picture of the barren moon wasteland. 

Logging off, 

Audrey

Iceland, Captains Log Day 4

Day 4:

Today started with rain. Well, really it started last night right when we were hitting Reykjavik but continued into today. We made it all the way back to Vik last night so we only lost some time (read: sleep) but no distance. The morning was drizzly so we dressed warmly and fretted a little about being cold and wet on our first stop, the Glacier Lagoon. To those of you who haven't been intensely studying Icelandic highlights, the Glacier Lagoon (Jokulsarlon) is an tragically beautiful manifestation of climate change. The 8th largest glacier in the world is melting into the ocean, and every day pieces of it break off and make their way into the lake (lagoon) to melt down to a depth where they can continue their journey through the shallow causeway and out into the sea.

We lucked out and hit sun about 45 minutes from the stop and enjoyed clear skies while on an amphibian boat tour we reserved to wander out among the 'Calf Icebergs'. What is a calf iceberg you ask? Its a Glacier's baby (when a big hunk o' ice breaks off and ventures out on its own).We learned that the calf bergs (or baby bergs as we have taken to calling them) live about 5 years although the ice is about a thousand years old. We also learned that the landscape of the baby bergs change daily. New ones are always breaking-off and slowing shifting/moving towards the causeway, but additionally, they are prone to flipping and rapid color change. This is largely due to the presence of salt coming from the ocean mixing with the fresh water coming off of the glacier. The salt erodes the submerged part of the iceberg until the weight distribution shifts and an iceberg will tip (either gradually or sometimes suddenly). The brilliant blue color on some of the icebergs is due to the high water absorption but will diminish within hours of a tip as the air exposure starts to turn it white (as it freezes). You'll also see a lot of black. If there are significant black spots, it is just sediment (as much of the rock and sand in the area is black), but if there are thin lines of striation, then it is ash, and can be read like tree lines to identify certain volcanic eruptions in the past.

Our guide pulled a small chunk of ice out of the water for us to hold and see up close (and busted up a piece of it for us to taste). It turns out, all it takes to be an Icelandic viking is to hold this piece of really freaking cold ice in your bare hands for 30 seconds. Audrey and I are now both proud vikings and looking forward to receiving our official horned hats and raiding how-to any day now. Back on land, we wandered down the causeway to the ocean, where the baby bergs spend their final days. The much smaller baby bergs rush down the causeway and into the ocean where they are shoved back on shore by the waves. The glittering ice, like diamonds nestled in the deep black of the Icelandic sand has earned it the name black diamond beach. I have never seen a sculpture with more poetry than some of these beached pieces of glacier with indescribable whirls of lacy holes and supple curves. We finished our time at the glacier lagoon with some Icelandic staples... Audrey had a famous Icelandic hotdog (part local lamb and served with a remoulade) while I got my first taste of langoustine (looks like a crawfish, tastes like a lobster) on an Icelandic interpretation of a lobster roll. IT.WAS.SPECTACULAR.

The rest of the day was largely committed to the drive up the eastern coast of the island and inward to reach our B&B for the evening. On the way, we hit another natural hot spring to warm up and enjoy the breathtaking landscapes which still haven't stopped coming, and this time Audrey joined me! Despite being pretty close to the ring road, we ended up having them (there were 5!) entirely to ourselves and enjoyed an hour of warmth (and some light bathing, finally!) mixed with sweeping views of a rural valley bounded by monolithic plateaus....let me just say, Iceland makes it pretty hard not to appreciate everything it has to offer. From there it was all about the drive. We thought it might be funny to start a running sheep count because they range freely across the country side and have been a running theme of our trip thus far but we hit the hundreds in less than an hour and realized it probably wasn't going to be feasible. We also tried to count 'Secret Waterfalls', ie the small waterfalls we can see from the car, just casually spilling down from every high place on this island (we're convinced they've simply sprung a leak somewhere) but that quickly reached an unreasonably high number too, so we gave up on counting things and just enjoyed pointing them out to one another as we made our way through the Eastern Fjords.

Our lodging (The Wilderness Center) caused us to leave the ring road and forge far into the interior on the Eastern side. Our adventure off the beaten path was well rewarded by some new breathtaking scenery and a spectacular vista at the top of the switchbacks (I feel like we've being using the word breathtaking a lot, but honestly, its hard to come up with other adjectives when we literally gasp every 5-10 minutes). I will say that the landscape started to look a lot more familiar with lots of evergreen and crystal clear water bubbling along bouldered stream-beds.It was a noticeable change, not only in the types of mountains we were seeing, but also in the nature of the trees themselves. Our first day out of Reykjavik, we noticed that all the trees were growing in eerily straight lines, or in squares of identical height and it dawned on us that nearly all of the trees we were seeing had been planted by hand to serve as wind, snow, and possibly as noise and dust breaks for the houses they surrounded and there were almost no naturally occurring trees on the souther part of the island...Which is really crazy... Anyways back on task: The Wilderness Center is an old farm house (and related structures) which bounds some nature preserves, and has maintained it rustic historical roots. Most of the buildings have been converted into beautiful little rooms with cozy blankets and hand-milled beds. We went straight for the showers and enjoyed the first real shampoo we've seen since day 1 before heading down for a family dinner around the table in the kitchen, cooked by our lovely hosts and shared with our fellow guests. We shared dinner with a pianist traveling on her own from La Réunion (a french island off the coast of Africa), an retired danish architect and his wife, and a couple hailing from Berlin (although she's originally Irish). Shes a software designer and he works for the german government as an economist, naturally, we had nothing to talk about.

Over vigorous conversation, we were treated to freshly baked bread, local broccoli and salad, and a curried fish and rice casserole for dinner, and rounded it out with a perfect home-baked date-cake with caramel topping and fresh whipped cream. After saying our goodnights, we rolled ourselves, exhausted but clean, full, and satisfied, upstairs and into bed.

Signing off,

Chelsea and Audrey (who's once again asleep by the time I am finish this, poor girl)