The land of ice and fire - Part 2

Saturday 21 March 2015

Originally, this morning I was going to join Cindy and Mary for a peek at the museums in Reykjavik but instead decided to have a gentle wander of the town before our afternoon activities. I have developed a little bit of museum fatigue here in London, although to be fair there was one museum in Reykjavik that piqued my interest but I didn't manage to make it there - the Penis Museum. That's on the bucket list for next time.

*winky face*

Instead, I wandered down to the waterfront and marvelled at the backdrop the residents of Reykjavik were privy to each and every morning. Juxtapositioned against the modern and not so modern buildings was aqua blue water and looming whitecapped mountains, often half submerged in cloud. I delighted in peeking down the side streets to see this sight; the buildings with the mountains behind. Along the foreshore, I found some interesting sculptures and leisurely walked in the grey morning light.

I found my way to a little coffee shop - have I mentioned yet that Iceland makes a good coffee? - and settled down with a bit of free wifi to broadcast my love of this country. (And shh…I know, you know, we all know that I don’t actually drink coffee…). As I began the journey back to our apartment, the sun began peeking through the clouds and it turned into an absolutely astoundingly glorious afternoon.

It was 3C outside but inside the apartment I was donning my bathers. This afternoon we were going to be dipping our toes (and the rest of us!) into the balmy hot waters of the Blue Lagoon.

The Blue Lagoon is a geothermal spa with an average temperature of 37-39C and a strikingly blue appearance caused by the rich deposits of silica in the water. As the day had become beautifully sunny, I knew we were in for a treat.

The bus ride was reasonably short, and this time instead of icy fields we passed mossy lava fields, with dangerously jagged and deadly looking rocks. Once arriving, we discovered that finding a locker was a small task. Once nabbed, we made our way to the water, towels wrapped tight. It was time to brave the outside temperature. Stepping through the sliding doors, we were blasted by icy air and confronted by the sky blue water. My toes were so cold that they stung with pins and needles when they hit the hot water. I immediately submerged myself surrounded by a chorus of "This is beautiful!"

What colour, much backdrop!

After enjoying the warm water for a short while, our next port of call was to rub the rich mineral mud onto our faces and skin - the minerals have healing properties. We began the slow wade to the mineral deposit area and the water shallowed, the ground becaming uneven. I stood up to walk in the shallow water. Two steps later and SPLASH! I fell in a giant hole, disappearing under the water and emerging to hear the surprised snorts of laughter not only from my group but also surrounding strangers.

Typical Sasha, always falling into holes.

Still laughing, I decided it was probably best to wade and not trust the pocked ground on the bottom of the lagoon. At the mineral station, the group waited their turn to ladle the off-white minerals into their hands. Meanwhile, my little hands and wrists were small enough to fit through the slats, and so I grabbed myself a large and squelchy handful. 

I slapped it onto my face. Smeared it around. Slapped some more on. I covered my whole face, my neck and my shoulders with the mud. "Have I spread it evenly?" I asked, and found I'd missed a little spot at my temple. We all inspected each others mud faces and giggled at how absurd we looked. The mud soon became caked on and hard. One should leave the mud on for at least 10 - 15 minutes for it to work, and so we chatted and splashed (and took selfies) in the warm water.

New Facebook profile pic, me thinks.

Mary and I wanted to see what else was around the Lagoon. We wandered over closer to the mountains and realised that we had been sitting in a relatively "cold" patch. The water here bordered on unbearable at times. It flowed in patches and often the surface was much hotter than below. We floated on our backs, finally giving up on keeping our hair dry. I found a little spot on the edge and sat, moving in and out of the water as it became unbearably hot and then eased…to become unbearably hot again. It was truly divine. I could feel my muscles relaxing.

"Why don't we grab a drink?" one of the troupe asked. What? We..what? One of the gentlemen pointed out the swim up bar. I just about died and thought I was in Heaven. Departing from our  boiling position, we swished over to the bar. They had quite an extensive range of wines, beer and Krapp, which turned out to be a slushy. Mary opted for the Blue Krapp, while I went for a nice glass of bubbles.

Complete. A surprisingly nice glass of bubbly, lounging around in brilliant blue, steaming hot water - what could be better?

Bubbles and blue

We stayed in the water for hours. A small rain storm passed overhead, only lasting a few minutes, and left a beautiful fully formed rainbow in its wake. We grabbed our maximum 3 alcoholic beverages (I for one could feel them at work) and explored further around the lagoon. Any adventure to the toilet was an extremely cold affair, and resulted in convulsing shivers as one would splash unceremoniously back into the hot water. We found a manmade waterfall that served to massage your back with its heavy fall, and a little cave at the exact moment another little splatter shower passed overhead. 

After about 4 hours in the gorgeous bath our hands and feet were wrinkly, we were a little tipsy, and we decided to call it a day. 

***

On the way back to the apartment, I realised the grave error I had made. I had forgotten to put the conditioner in my hair and it was beginning to turn into straw. I was too terrified to take out my hair tie (if I could get it out past the tangles), so I figured I'd deal with the crows nest on top of my head later and enjoy the rest of the day.

Arriving at the apartment, we checked out email. Groans of disappointment abounded - our Northern Lights tour had been cancelled tonight as well. 

"But it's a beautiful day!" we said.

"The sky is clear!" we said.

"Do you think if we ask they'll let us go anyway?" we said.

However, we finally conceded that they probably did know what they were talking about and sure enough as the night continued the sky turned grey with cloud cover. Disappointing. But at least our tour will still be valid for a year.

By now, it was time for food. We split up again; this time Mary, Yelda and myself went in search of fish on the Reykjavik foreshore. We passed many places that were ludicrously expensive, or not quite up to standard and it felt like we walked for an age. Finally, we rounded a corner and saw a strange little shanty shack. Peeking in, we saw upturned containers for chairs and uneven wooden bench tables. A look over a gentleman's shoulder showed us a delicious looking lobster soup with soft, crusty bread.

Sold.

This was starter. I snagged a table while the others stood in line - excellent timing as at that moment the queue grew exponentially. We must be in a good place, we decided.

Soon enough, the lobster soups and soft white crusty bread and butter was delivered to our table. We hoed in and were delighted with our find. The place looked dingy, run down but with a lot of character; it was not fine dining.

Simple and delicious, lobster soup from Sægreifinn.

"Reckon they store the fish in the barrels we're sitting on," we concluded. It was a little fisherman's shanty hut, and it was fantastic.

Next stop: more Icelandic fish for mains. 

We returned to a restaurant we had passed earlier and the three of us were placed on a 10 person table. We crowded into the corner. Here, we ordered more fish (to share this time, as I know I was completely satiated from the amazing lobster soup and bread) and soon it was time to make our way back to the apartment. On the way, we spotted more of our troupe in another restaurant and banging on the window, made our presence known.

It had been a lovely day, despite our sadness at missing the dancing sky.

***

Sunday 22 March 2015

Our final morning in Reykjavik was uneventful. The weather, however, did not disappoint in its chameleonic ability to change instantly. I looked out the window of our apartment to see blue sky. I grabbed and donned my coat, and walked down the two flights of stairs to open the front door.

Snowing.

I kid you not. I stood there, baffled. One and a half minutes prior it was blue sky. 

So, for those who haven't ventured outside yet, it's kind of snowing. 

I messaged back up to the room. That was a bit of a surprise.

I gently wandered the town, found some food and coffee, and prepared to be picked up to be taken back to the airport. I should mention that the morning was uneventful for me. Cindy and Russell were not picked up by their coach and ended up having to beg their way through security and leg it toward the gates.

A sleepy, exhausted flight back and I said good bye to Iceland - but not forever.

***

I cannot begin to describe the breathtaking beauty of Iceland's landscape. Yes, I was bitterly disappointed not to see the Northern Lights, but I was privy to an almost total solar eclipse with the alien Icelandic landscape its backdrop. There is so much to do and see on this island and it has not seen the last of me. 

I wish to return, hopefully see the Northern Lights, but also to climb glaciers and see whales and visit puffins and stand on the edge of a live volcano and ride Icelandic horses to remote areas inaccessible by vehicles.

My photos do not do you justice, Iceland. You brought tears to my eyes and beauty to my heart.

xx

The amazing Blue Lagoon.

Alien.

So long Iceland, we will meet again.

The land of ice and fire - Part 1

Thursday 19 March 2015

I stuffed my dirty clothes from Ireland into my laundry basket and repacked my suitcase with warm woollens and my tripod. It was going to be cold where I was headed. 

Later that afternoon, I made sure I arrived nice and early to the airport to save any undue stress, croaked my way through customs with my non-existent St Paddy's Day voice and wandered leisurely through duty free. 

Checking my emails, I saw the others had arrived and went to meet them. We were soon going to boarding the plane, and little did I know what beauty would be awaiting me on the other side.

***

I am part of a Meetup called Australian Expats in London and had been receiving their event emails since before arriving in London. I hadn't attended any, but when I saw the flights to Iceland for £99 return, I thought, why not? This was back in August 2014, and I ummed and ahhed because I am a commitment-phobe and was scared to purchase flights that far in advance. In the end, I bit the bullet. 

It just so happened that the trip to Dublin fit in perfectly the few days before and so in one crazy, polar opposite week, I travelled 5320 miles, 8562 kilometres, from drunken debauchery to boundless beauty between the two I-lands: Ireland and Iceland.

***

The week prior to Iceland, most of us met at a local pub to say hello and begin to get to know one another. Over the course of the four days, we would fall into a comfortable pattern with each other but we also were afforded the opportunity to spend time alone, too. Cindy and Russell were tour organisers and helped keep us in check, Neoma was a fellow Radeladian with her husband John. Also on the trip was Mary and Yelda, and in total we made a troupe of 7 split across two apartment suites.

We landed late Thursday evening and arrived at our apartment after midnight. We quickly sorted rooms and tucked ourselves away into bed - we had an early start in the morning as we were all going on the Golden Circle tour of Iceland.

****

Friday 20 March 2015

Up bright and early, we waited outside the apartment to be picked up for our tour. I thought I had forgotten to grab my voucher, so I made a mad dash back inside to realise it had been in my bag the whole time. I was more organised than I gave myself credit for. Soon, a mini bus arrived and deposited us at the main bus depot, where we were to get on a bigger bus run by Reykjavik Excursions. The bus was mostly full already and so I sat down the front in an empty seat next to a young English gentleman so that I wouldn't run the risk of motion sickness being a naughty kid up the back.

The whole bus was trying desperately to look at the sun and not look at the sun at the same time. This is because, on Friday 20 March 2015, there was a 98% solar eclipse in the Northern Hemisphere and with clear blue skies over Iceland, we were to have the perfect view. The tour had taken into account the eclipse and, after we had set off, stopped a short way down the road so we could watch and photograph in awe.

Dusky hues

The sky slowly turned a dusky shade of yellow. While the light did not fade to complete darkness, an eerie twilight fell over the landscape. The bright yellow sun (that I was not looking at) with the mustard sky was set against a backdrop of snowcapped mountains and icy grassy fields. It was truly spectacular. A lady lent me her lens so I could see the eclipse and I have decided that I will buy a pair of eclipse glasses on the off chance I will one day see another (and being prepared prevents piss poor performance, you see). My camera could not pick up any of the changes in the sun; the light spewing forth on both sides of the moon were too great, however my iPhone did manage to cast a strange crescent shape elsewhere in the frame.

Of course I selfied with an eclipse. It was the easiest way to look at it,
and you couldn't look through a camera lense. 

With misty eyes - not from looking at the sun but in wonder -  I boarded the bus, knowing today was going to be an amazing day.

Our first stop was the Friðheimar greenhouse cultivation centre, which felt a bit of a weird inclusion but was actually a lovely way to begin the tour (after the solar eclipse, of course). Still giddy from the experience, I quickly jumped in the queue to grab some kind of tomato based liquid. Tomato soup, or a Bloody Mary? I think we all know which one I chose.

Delicious deliciousness.

Generously splashing tabasco into my breakfast Bloody Mary, I looked around the warm and bright greenhouse. The owner was standing atop an overturned box to explain how it runs; the tomatoes are grown from the fresh and clear Icelandic water, the bees are imported from Norway, and heating was provided from the geothermal heat that Iceland is known for.

After a coughing and spluttering fit thanks to too much tabasco, I was able to enjoy one of the most delicious Bloody Mary's I think I've had. Good morning sunshine! it cried, and gave me a happy glow. I left the greenhouse for a quick visit to the Icelandic “definitely-not-a-pony” horses, where I gave them a pat and took a few selfies. Of course.

Hello pretty pony! I mean, horsie.

I almost went arse up on the run back to the bus. The ground in Iceland was icy as it was still very cold even though Spring was underway, with large white patches dotting the horizon. The clear blue sky beamed down and we set off for our next stop with a happy little drunken glow.

Next, we were off to meet Strokkur, a little show-off of a geyser that shoots a column of water up to 30m into the air every 4-6 minutes at roughly 81-100C. I jumped off the bus and joined Yelda, and together we made our way across the path towards Strokkur. We didn’t have to wait long. The hole in the ground was bubbling..swirling..twirling..steaming before WHOOOOOOOSH! It shot up high into the air, blocking out the sun before the column of water collapsed and the hole, now empty, slowly began to fill with water once more.

Splurt.

At over 80C, one wouldn’t want to stand up-wind of the geyser and the constantly bubbling and steaming water was testament to that. One does kinda wanna stick a finger in just to see….but curiosity did not kill the cat this time.

The landscape, again, was magical. Here, the white capped mountains provided the perfect backdrop to the steaming foreground with barren grass fields and spindly trees. Yelda and I saw Strokkur explode a few times, and then decided we would grab some food. We made the best possible choice - we went with the buffet.

Amazing cake-like bread that had been cooked in the heat of the geysers themselves, countless different types of fresh delicious fish, and incredible Icelandic pastries were scoffed before we had to return to the bus, ready for the next wonder this country could throw at us.

With the blue sky above and the sun pouring down, our next stop was the magnificent Gullfoss, the Golden Falls waterfall which plunges over 32m. Gullfoss, in 1907, was set to be sold to be harnessed for electricity generation. A local Icelandic farmer declined to sell the land, famously saying “I will not sell my friend.”

Gullfoss, my friend.

The beautiful waterfall creates a rainbow; I was sad that I hadn’t seen it but then realised that my camera had picked up the pretty colours the water spray creates. Walking around Gullfoss, I continuously made little squeaking noises. It was so beautiful. The sound of the crashing water was so peaceful. Again, and I will continue to mention it, the landscape was breathtaking. We stayed here a little over an hour and I walked around to view the waterfall from different angles, all equally as beautiful as the last.

So happy to be here! Squeaking!

At this point, the sky started to turn grey. Our tour guide quipped, “We have a saying here in Iceland. If you don’t like the weather, wait 5 minutes!” This erratic weather would continue to follow us for the remainder of the trip. Our final stop on the tour was the geological wonder of the Thingvellir National Park. Why is this cool? Because I literally walked along the edge of a tectonic plate. The American and Eurasian plates are pulling apart from each other by a few centimetres a year (“Iceland, unlike other countries, is growing bigger each year!”) and the rock formations were beautiful.

Yeah, just casually walked along a tectonic plate. No biggie.

By now, we were all tired, and soon after returning to the bus the rains started. We looked at each other. Did this mean that our Northern Lights tour tonight was cancelled? Unfortunately, yes, but we were able to rebook for the following evening. Our ticket allowed us to rebook for up to a year, it turns out. 

Slightly disappointed that we weren’t going to the lights, but content from a fantastic day, we made our way back to the apartments. We went to a local grocery store to buy some strange Icelandic fare (mostly chocolate covered liquorice, it seems…) before crashing out on the couch. After a short break, we decided we would in fact go out and grab a beverage and some food, and so we called a taxi (a harder task than it sounds) and made our way to Micro, a bar in the heart of Reykjavik. Granted, we could have walked there but the rains were still pouring strong and it would have made for a miserable walk.

Here, Yelda, Mary and I sampled the locally brewed beer before we all decided to find some food. Now, the next bit is a bit embarrassing, but it proved to be rather beneficial in the end.

We went to a local restaurant - choices were rather slim pickings - and went about our order, including a very nice bottle of wine. As some of you may know, my belly struggles with some ingredient and so I decided to order my meal sans said ingredients because I didn’t feel like suffering that night. Everyone’s meal was served when I noticed that mine still contained what it should not. I decided to mention it to the waitress, and she took it away apologetically. Everyone continued on with their meal. Everyone soon finished their meal. At this point, the waitress returned and said,

“I’m very sorry, but they’ve made it the same way again. We can offer you the salad bar for free if you like!”
To which Sasha lost her temper, with a “Really? I don’t want your shitty salad bar.” (It was a pretty ordinary salad bar..)

The waitress, flustered, asked if there was anything else they could do instead.

Waving my hand towards the table, I said “The wine. Can we have the wine for free.”

And so I walked out of there without having paid a cent (or a krona), and the whole table got their wine for free. I was  ashamed at losing my temper, but hey, got free wine out of it.

And thus concluded our first full day in Iceland, where we learnt that the coffee is amazing, the service is not, the landscape abounds with beauty and the weather is temperamental. We went to bed, hopeful tomorrow night the sky would dance for us.

xx

One...

...eye-boner...

...after another.