Travelogue

Hellisandur Street ArtAlthough known mostly for its dramatic natural landscape, our first stop along the northern coast of the Snæfellsnes Peninsula was the tiny village of Hellissandur, which has gained a reputation as the street art capital of Iceland. Pretty impressive considering all the wonderful street art we have already seen along the way.

Once an important fishing village, tracing back to the 16th century, it has shifted its economy toward tourism, and the street art is drawing people into this tiny village of 544 people.

So how did this all come about?

Hellisandur Street ArtIn the summer of 2018, Kári Viðarsson, owner of the The Freezer hostel in the nearby town of Rifi, envisioned a massive, colorful transformation of the bleak, declining town of Hellissandur.

He summoned a team of international artists to Hellissandur to transform an abandoned fish factory into large works of art.

Hellisandur Street ArtThe event was dubbed a ‘Street Art Festival’ and the artists did come, completing over 30 major murals that first summer and in subsequent years.

The townspeople loved it and the fact that their depressing old abandoned fish factory is now a cultural attraction for visitors from around the world.

So now, instead of just passing by the village on their way to the Snæfellsjökull National Park, people have a reason to stop and spend some time (and money) in town.

While Reykjavik has much more street art - larger and more impressive - the tiny little town of Hellissandur bills itself as the "street art capital of Iceland."

Travelogue

StykkishólmskirkjaToday, Day 9 on the Ring Road, we began our exploration of the beautiful Snæfellsnes Peninsula, a large peninsula extending from West Iceland, nicknamed ‘Iceland in Miniature’ due to the rich diversity of its natural features.

However, first we had to get there. We had learned our lesson yesterday that we should look first to see if a road is gravel before taking it, so this time when Google suggested we take Road 54 to Grundarfjörður, we checked and sure enough it was gravel.

Although Road 54 was a straight line to Grundarfjörður, we decided to take a longer V-shaped route along paved roads. Even if it took longer, we didn’t care.

Our destination for the evening was the Grundarfjörður campground, located very near to the iconic Kirkjufell mountain, the most photographed mountain in all of Iceland.

Interior of StykkishólmskirkjaBefore getting there, we made a short detour to the small town of Stykkisholmur on the northern shore of the Snæfellsnes Peninsula to see its famous church Stykkishólmskirkja, a futuristic church with a sweeping bell tower that looks like a whale vertebra, or some say, a spaceship. It was a far cry from the tiny sod-roofed church we had visited what seemed like a month ago

The interior of Stykkishólmskirkja features hundreds of suspended lights and a painting of the Madonna and child floating in the night sky.

Like all Lutheran churches it is much simpler and less ornate than Catholic churches.

View of Kirkjufell from our campgroundAlso, unlike Catholic Churches, there was no fee to enter. In fact, our entire time in the church we saw absolutely no one. Iceland is so safe and trusting that they don’t feel the need to watch over you to make sure you are not doing something inappropriate.

After the church, we continued on to the Grundarfjörður campground. We couldn’t find anyone to check us in, so we drove around the campground and noticed that the grassy field that we were supposed to camp on was full of deep tire tracks from people getting stuck in the mud. This wasn’t good. Plus, there didn’t seem to be any place to check in.

Iconic view of KirkjufellWe decided to go directly to the Sundlaug Grundarfjarðar (swimming pool) first as we were badly in need of a shower since none of us wanted to use the horrible one in the Búðardalur campground last night.

This pool is actually not part of the Grundarfjarðar campground, but it serves as their shower facility. Every town and small village in Iceland has a heated swimming pool for its residents and hot tubs as well. The costs are usually quite reasonable. According to their website the price was 1,000 ISK ($7.67). We would have paid $20 for a shower and a pool at this point.

KirkjufellsfossWe wondered why there was no one else in the parking lot, but we soon found out why. When we went to try to open the door to the facility, a gentleman came over to us and said that the pool was closed, because the federation of public worker unions in Iceland, which included pool employees, was out on strike, affecting 37 pools throughout Iceland.

We could have cried. That would mean two days without a shower. Technically, our van had a shower, sort of like the kind in a boat, that wets the entire bathroom. Desperate times call for desperate measures, so we took very quick showers in the van.

Now all we needed was a rainbowSo far, this campground was not living up to expectations - muddy fields to risk getting stuck in and no pool. It did, however, have a wonderful side view of Kirkjufell and the fjord beyond it.

As there was not much to do in the campground since the pool was closed, we headed over to the Kirkjufellsfoss parking lot, just 5 minutes away. We were definitely not the only ones with this idea, so it took a bit of patience and jockeying for position to get a well-composed photo.

And what a rainbow it wasThis is not the kind of photography Herb likes, where everyone sort of lines up to take the classic shot, which is Kirkjufell with the lovely Kirkjufellsfoss (waterfall) in the foreground.

He much prefers wandering around on his own, finding his own satisfying compositions, sort of what we did at Vestrahorn.

Still, the composition of the mountain with the waterfalls in the foreground was stunning. We could see why it is the most photographed mountain in Iceland.

Dinner at BjargarsteinnKirkjufell means Church Mountain, because it resembles a church steeple. Danish sailors called it a Sugar Top. When seen from other angles, the peak looks like a witch's hat or a scoop of ice cream.

Its isolated position, rising 1,519 feet from the sea, make it extremely photogenic.

Bjargarsteinn hand-drawn menuThen as if by magic, a long rainbow appeared over the mountains to the right of Kirkjufell, giving us the chance to take a more unique photo than the standard shot.

All our previous rainbows were in the sprays of waterfalls. This one hugged the top of a mountain range

Maybe our luck was turning after a rough 24 hours of mis-navigating on gravel roads, horrible showers in last night’s campground, and a pool workers strike thwarting our efforts to swim and soak today.

Random couch with sideview of KirkjufellNo Herb's Pylsurs or Hilda’s tortellini in the van tonight, but rather we went out on the town to Bjargarsteinn, a cozy yet elegant restaurant with delicious traditional Icelandic food, and magnificent views of Kirkjufell. The menu was even hand drawn.

Dining out in Iceland can be very expensive, and the entrees here were in the $40 to $50 range, but if you don’t order all the extras, like appetizers and dessert, it is no more expensive than dining out at home. Plus, there is no tipping or sales tax so it makes a big difference.

Hilda and I both had the fish of the day, which was some white fish that I never heard of, and Herb and Paul had a lamb dish. It was absolutely delicious.

Early morning empty parking lotFor a village of less than 900 people, this was quite a wonderful restaurant - terrific ambience, delicious food, great service, and views of Kirkjufell.

After dinner, we took a walk along the Grundarfjörður fjord. Right behind the restaurant we came across a rather randomly placed couch, but it did have a great view of Kirkufell. It was soaking wet from the rain, but fortunately Herb stopped me mid-air before my butt reached it.

Kirkjufell to ourselvesContinuing along, we came across a guide with a tour group getting ready to go out in kayaks. We were not envious at all as it was cold and windy, making the water quite choppy. The clincher was when the sky opened up and it began to hail. Weather can be quite changeable in Iceland. We ran back to our vans, so I’m not sure if they ever really went out. I highly doubt it.

The next morning we set out to explore the rest of the Snæfellsnes peninsula, but first, a quick stop to see Kirkjufell in the morning light. As we have learned throughout the trip, if you can get to a popular stop by 8 am, you can pretty much have it to yourself. Sure enough, we were the only ones in the parking lot,

Travelogue

Scary tunnelDay 8 on the Ring Road was definitely our most challenging.

We had spent a nice morning at the Herring Era Museum in Siglufjörður before continuing around the tip of the Trollaskagi Peninsula and south down its western side.

The big winds that McRent had warned us about were upon us at last, making it a tough drive for Herb, as big gusts would actually move the van, sometimes too near a precarious edge. Plus, there were more of those two-way, one-lane tunnels, which were frightening in their own right.

We were hoping to make it a short driving day, staying in the town of Hofsós, where there is a beautiful infinity pool set at the edge of the sea, looking out over Skagafjörður and the islands of Drangey and Málmey, creating the illusion of it being an infinity pool.

Tortellinis in the vanWhen we got there, the winds were whipping so hard we could hardly open the doors of the van. It was pretty cold and unpleasant. Unlike the thermal baths which are about 100 degrees Fahrenheit, this was a heated pool, set at about 87 degrees.

We stared at the pool for a while, trying to size each other up, as to whether anyone wanted to go in it, but there were no takers.

Damn. This was my plan for today. Now I wasn’t sure what to do except just head to our next known destination which was Kirkjufell on the Snaefellsnes Peninsula, about 4 and a half hours away. There was no way we were going to make it all the way there today, so we figured we would just start driving towards it and find somewhere to stay along the way.

In about an hour, we were back on the Ring Road in the town of Blönduós, at the mouth of a glacial river. In hindsight, we should have stopped there. It had already been a long day, and this town did have a campground.

Trampoline FunI don’t know why but we decided to continue on.

Then things got even worse. For some reason, Google had us turn off the Ring Road on Road 59 and start heading north along the western edge of a fjord that we had just come down along the east side of.

Still things seemed pretty okay, until the road turned to gravel and continued to be gravel for the next 20 miles or so. Sometimes Google seems to think that the best route is the shortest one, without taking into consideration the road quality. We should have just stayed on the Ring Road even though that would be more miles to our planned destination.

Where you going Paul?I was really upset that with all my planning I had gotten us into this mess. Everything had gone so perfectly up until now. If I had only used the Nat Geo map rather than Google, I would have seen that this was a gravel road.

All I knew was that we were headed towards a village called Búðardalur, population 266, but it did have a campground and other services like gas. Seemed like the only option for us at this point.

The town was situated on the Hvammsfjörður at the north-eastern end of the Snæfellsnes Peninsula, putting us in good position for our drive to Kirkjufell tomorrow.

Across the heath to HvammsfjordurWe got in around 7:00 and found that the campground's grassy field had been blocked off because it was too wet and campers might get stuck, so we parked in the gravel parking lot instead. Hilda and I went to check out the showers, or more correctly shower, and it was very dark and depressing. We decided we were clean enough and went back to the van to cook dinner.

It was tortellinis with pesto and some veggies that night, which was actually quite good.

After dinner, I felt unsatisfied with our action level for the day. All we did today was a Herring Museum and lots of stressful driving. I suggested we go for a walk, even if it was already close to 10 pm. It never gets dark here in the summer, so what the heck.

Must be a troll's housePlus, I needed to pull myself out of my bad mood from feeling that I had screwed up today, so I tried to put things in perspective. What would I be doing if I was home now. Probably cleaning up the kitchen and watching some TV. Instead here we were in a tiny Icelandic village about to wander across a heath to a fjord in the land of the midnight sun. Not bad.

Not long into our walk we discovered a large trampoline. It was the birthday party Paul and I had dreamed of. Paul and I hopped around like we were eight year olds and managed miraculously to not hurt ourselves.

Búðardalur HarborNow that we were all fired up, we couldn't just go to bed, so we decided to hike to that amazing little red-roofed structure in the distance, even if we had to trudge across some pretty marshy land. I have no idea what the purpose of this tiny structure was, but it sure was picturesque.

10:15 and still light out. I guess it hadn't been such an uneventful day after all.

One more walk to the Troll HouseBefore leaving Búðardalur the next morning, we took one more walk out on the heath to the bluff overlooking the Hvammsfjordur fjord.

That little red-roofed structure at the top of the bluff kept drawing me in. Three of the main Icelandic Sagas (Laxdæla Saga, Saga of Eric the Red, and Eyrabyggja Saga), which were written way back in the 12th century, are all set in Búðardalur. I bet a troll lives in that building and has cast a spell drawing me back to it.

So, what I thought was going to be a real dud of a stop, turned out to be really fun. When would I ever again wander around in broad daylight at 10 pm and jump like I was a kid again on a trampoline in some remote tiny Icelandic village, or wander through a marshy landscape to a picturesque structure overlooking a beautiful fjord.

Up to today, everything had gone so perfectly, right down to the fantastic weather and the magical appearance of rainbows whenever we needed them, but sometimes it’s the unexpected, unplanned bumps in the road that can turn out to be pretty damn fun.

Travelogue

SiglufjörðurAfter leaving Akureyri, we left the Ring Road and headed up the beautiful Trollaskagi Peninsula towards the quaint fishing village of Siglufjörður, the northernmost settlement in Iceland, less than 25 miles from the Arctic Circle.

The peninsula has the tallest mountains outside the Highlands, meaning it also has tunnels to cut through those mountains. In fact, there are three tunnels along the 50 miles from Akureyri to Siglufjörður. Some of them are as much as 7 miles long. Unlike the one we took into Akureyri, these were toll-free.

SiglufjörðurThey were pretty scary though in that although they were two-way, they had only one lane, so if there was another car coming in our direction, we had to quickly get over to one of the pull-outs on our side.

However, whenever we weren’t inside a tunnel, the scenery along the drive was stunning.

Sorting the day's catchBefore these tunnels were built in 2010, Siglufjörður was pretty much cut off from the rest of Iceland during the winter.

We pulled into Siglufjörður campground late afternoon. What a location!! Set at the end of a fjord 25 miles from the Arctic Circle, with colorful buildings and the harbor on one side, and amazing mountains on the other.

SiglufjörðurThere was only one other camper there, a very friendly man from a village outside Reykjavik who loved coming here in the summer. He said he was originally from the island of Heimaey, off the southern coast of Iceland, or at least until the 1973 eruption of the Eldfell volcano, which destroyed 400 homes on the island, including his. Everyone was evacuated, and he never returned to the island.

Artic Herb's PylsursWow! How do you top that story? All we had to offer was we are originally from New Jersey. Not quite as dramatic.

We strolled down to the harbor to watch the fisherman unload their catch for the day. It was fun watching them fling the fish through the air as they sorted them into various crates.

Dining alfresco near the Arctic CircleSiglufjörður is still very much a fishing village, but it has declined significantly from its glory days of being the herring capital of the world back in the early 1900s.

During its heyday, it was a thriving boomtown of 10,000, and its herring accounted for over 20% of all of Iceland’s exports. it grew so rapidly that it was compared to the California Gold Rush, and it was even given the name the "Atlantic Klondike".

Siglufjörður However, overfishing resulted in the almost disappearance of herring by the late 1960s and the town fell into decline. The processing plants were closed and many people left. Today the population is a little over 1,200.

Today the town remains dependent on fishing and is trying to promote tourism. The building of the tunnels through the mountains on the peninsula has helped make it more easily accessible. Still, it is not quite there yet in terms of crowds of tourists, but that’s why we liked it so much.

Herring Era MuseumIt has become a bit more discovered though. The Netflix series Entrapped, about the mysterious murder of a cult victim was filmed in this tiny village.

There weren't that many options for dining and we had had a big lunch in Akureyri, so once again opted for Herb's famous German interpretation of Icelandic Pylsurs (in other words, bratwurst). Surprisingly, we weren’t getting tired of them yet.

Herring Era MuseumIt was so scenic around our campsite, that we even convinced my desert-loving Herb to eat alfresco surrounded by the beauty of this lovely village. It was a bit chilly though. After all, this was the closest we had ever been to the Arctic Circle, and the closest we ever will be if it’s up to Herb.

The next morning on our walk over to have breakfast at Aðalbakarí, we passed the village church with a bright blue house in front of it.

Grana - the reduction factoryWe later found out that Herb's Icelandic friend John, who he went to Stevens Tech with, spent summers in that house. His parents owned it and his mom was a teacher's aid in the Siglufjordur elementary school. It sure is a small world.

Before leaving Siglufjordur, we visited the Herring Era Museum, considered one of the best museums in Iceland - although I had a hard time believing it was going to beat the Phallological Museum in Reykjavik. Herring are not as funny as phalluses, but I’ll keep an open mind.

The museum buildings along the shorelineThe museum, which is a tribute to the town’s glory days as the herring capital of the world, is made up of three separate buildings. The first is the Boathouse in which there is a recreation of the town’s once bustling port, complete with dock and 11 boats of various types and sizes, which we were allowed to board and clamber about.

As we strolled along the pier, boarding various ships at the dock, we were transported back in time to this tiny village’s days as a bustling port with over 10,000 workers catching and processing herring. For a brief moment, I was a herring fisherman

Herring Girls QuartersThe second building we went into was the Grana, a model of the original reduction factory that operated in Siglufjordur between 1919 and 1950. This is where men and machines transformed the herring into oil and fish-meal. The oil was used to light homes and streets before mineral oil was discovered and the fish-meal was an important component of animal feed (fodder for livestock) and an agricultural fertilizer

That’s when I turned to Herb and said, “Call me fish meal.” It took a minute before he realized my rather silly reference to the opening of Moby Dick.

Herring Girls QuartersThe last building we entered was the Roaldsbrakki, a former Norwegian salting station built in 1907. This was where the herring that did not go to the reduction factories went to be salted to become human food, especially for the hungry European countries during the two World Wars.

On the 3rd floor of the Roaldsbrakki (salting station building) were the living quarters for the “herring girls,” the women that came from all across Iceland and other Scandinavian countries to take jobs gutting, cleaning, and salting barrels of freshly caught fish.

Herring Girls QuartersAll the men were either out at sea fishing or working in one of the reduction plants, so the herring girl fulfilled a role that was so crucial that the herring industry could not have succeeded without them. Go Herring Girls!!

The rooms of the Róaldsbrakki, as part of the Herring Era Museum, have been restored, and the decor and personal items donated either by the former herring girls or their families.

View from their windowThis was my favorite part of the entire museum. I’d much rather see how people of a bygone age lived than look at a fish meal producing machine.

The rooms they slept in were very neat and cozy (aka small), with painted bunk beds, an ironing board, and a closet full of skirts, slips, stockings, and bathrobes.

Off the bedroom there was what I guess was a laundry room, with a tub to wash the clothes in and a clothes line with nylon stockings and other assorted clothing items.

In the kitchen there were coffee urns and teapots, flour and sugar tins, cups, toaster, a floral-painted bread box.

Herring Girls quartersSpread out on top of several portmanteaus were album covers of Nordic troubadours of the time—and also of Harry Belafonte and Elvis Presley.

The walls were decorated with photos of various film stars, such as Cary Grant, which made me nostalgic because he was my mom’s favorite.
It felt as if the girls had just temporarily stepped out and would be coming back soon, finding us snooping around their quarters.

But sadly, they won’t be coming back. The herring girl era ended in the summer of 1969 when the boats came back empty of herring.

What an informative and interesting museum, far exceeding our expectations, possibly ranking even higher in our minds than the penis museum in Reykjavik. Well, maybe I wouldn’t go that far.

Travelogue

Birthday lunch timeI doubt I was going to be able to compete with Paul’s birthday bash yesterday, but I’d give it a try.

We weren’t quite sure yet we would end up this evening, but we did know that we were going to take another detour off the Ring Road up the highly scenic Trollaskagi Peninsula, with its beautiful mountains, fjords, and fishing villages.

I had my sights on one place in particular - Siglufjordur, considered to be one of the nicest fishing villages in Iceland.

But first we would pass through Akureyri “Iceland’s second largest city” and the “Capital of the North,” where I planned to have my birthday lunch.

Kaffi IlmurActually, even before that we would literally pass through the Vadlaheidi Tunnel, a 7.5 km (4.7 miles) long tunnel that bypasses the precipitous Vikurskard Mountain Passage and brings you safely into Akureyri from the east.

There is a toll for driving through this tunnel, which can only be paid online. If you pay within 3 hours the price is 1, 500 IS K (about $11), but if you procrastinate and pay later than that it is 2.500 ISK ($19). We paid right away.

Now, back to Akureyri. While Akureyri, population 19,000, truly is Iceland’s second largest city, there is a big gap with Reykjavik, which has 140,000 residents.

Troll of HafnarstraetiAnywhere else in the world it would be considered a town, but in Iceland it was a city.

In many ways it had all the benefits of a city - great restaurants, cozy coffee shops, a colorful nightlife scene, beautiful street art, and local festivals - but without the downsides of traffic, crime, etc.

In doing so, it has become one of the “must see” destinations in Iceland, especially for those traveling around the Ring Road.

After poring through reviews, I chose to celebrate my birthday at Kaffi Ilmur, a small cafe and restaurant in one of Akureyri’s oldest houses.

Built in 1911, originally as a saddler’s shop, it later became a goldsmith’s, overlooking the fjord before the land was extended and more shops were built.

In 2011, one hundred years after it was built, the original saddler’s granddaughter (one of the Ingmars) opened it as a cafe.

Doing some shoppingIn May 2022, the café was sold to new owners, but they have kept the decor and traditions the same.

It was very quaint and cozy (just the way I like it), with the original walls and furniture, and a collection of photos of the original inhabitants of the house on one of the walls upstairs.

We could almost imagine that we were back in the 1900s eating in the Ingmar’s home.

The owner must have overheard that it was my birthday and after we finished our lunch, she brought out two delicious chocolate cupcakes, one topped with quite an exciting candle

Souvenir successWarmth and hospitality lives on in the Ingmar’s dining room.

After lunch we strolled along Hafnarstraeti, the main drag through this lovely town - excuse me, “city” - lined with cafes, restaurants, galleries, street art, shops, and even a troll.

Trolls are a very important part of Iceland’s culture and folklore. They live in rocky mountains and caves (if they haven't been transformed into sea stacks). They like the taste of flesh and are known to lure unsuspecting humans into their caves with spells, magic potions or simply by taking them captive. He certainly had captivated me. I was ready to go back to his cave.

Every trip we try to buy a souvenir that is somewhat meaningful. Living in Northern California, I didn’t want or need one of those Icelandic sweaters, or a silly puffin hat (although Herb did look quite cute in one), so I chose a cute little sheep and the book Independent People about sheep farmers in early 1900s Iceland instead. They both now live on my bookshelf.

Travelogue

Beautiful GodafossOur next stop along the Ring Road was Goðafoss, considered one of Iceland’s most beautiful waterfalls. It is located in northern Iceland just off the Ring Road at the junction with the Sprengisandur highland road, making it also one of the most accessible.

There are two parking lots - one of the west side of the falls and one on the east, with a pedestrian bridge connecting the two. We parked on the west and hiked to the top and then went back, crossed over the pedestrian bridge to he east and hiked along that shore. Each side had a different perspective of the falls.

Kayaker takes the plungeThe waterfalls we had seen so far were one narrow cascade of water, but this one was much wider (98 feet) with multiple cascades.

It is fed by the river Skjálfandafljót, the 4th largest river in Iceland, which runs in a 7000-year-old lava field from the Trölladyngja volcano.

The waterfall is absolutely stunning, and of course when we arrived, there was a beautiful rainbow across its spray.

We had come to expect rainbows in the spray of Iceland’s waterfalls, but this time we were treated to something else much more surprising - kayayers, plunging over the edge, disappearing in the spray, and then popping right side up at the base of the falls.

So much fun, let's try againWow! These guys were crazy! We could have watched and photographed them for hours.

Besides being beautiful and exciting for kayakers, this waterfall plays a very important role in how Iceland became a Christian nation.

But for that, we have to go back in time to the year 1000 AD.

An old Icelandic saga tells the tale of the waterfall's name through a Viking leader named Þorgeir Ljósvetningagoði.

Another takes the plungeFor the Icelandic people, sagas are not only the history of their medieval and Viking past, but entertaining stories passed from generation to generation. They are an extremely important part of their culture.

Many of the sagas date from Iceland’s pagan, pre-Christian past, and that is exactly where the story of Goðafoss comes in.

In the year 1000, Iceland was still a pagan land when a local chieftain, named Þorgeir Ljósvetningagoði, was given the difficult task of making the crucial decision as to whether Iceland should remain pagan or convert to Christianity, as King Olaf of Norway was pressuring them to do.

As the story goes, Þorgeir withdrew to lay under a fur blanket for two nights before emerging with his decision to convert to Christianity. I think all political decisions should be made this way.

Celebration or relief?He then proceeded to throw all his statues of the Pagan gods into the waterfall. Thus Christianity became the official religion in Iceland in the year 1000 without bloodshed.

That is why this waterfall is named Godafoss, which means the “Waterfall of the Gods.”

Another theory is that it is called Godafoss because its beauty is godlike. That works for me.

Travelogue

View from our campgroundWe had had a pretty long-driving day yesterday, and today it looked like we would have another. Our plan for the next two nights was to stay at the family-run Vogafjos Farm on the eastern shore of Lake Mývatn.

As we head west along the northern section of the Ring Road, I was so surprised how desolate and devoid of services it was. Good thing we had a full tank of gas, because there was really nothing along this section of road.

This would be the first time since leaving Reykjavik that we would stay two nights in one place, but there was an awful lot to do here - it sort of a mini Yellowstone, with lots of geothermal activity. Plus, we could use the rest.

Dinner in the van tonightThere are several campgrounds in the Lake Mývatn area, but I chose Vogafjos Farm because of their farm-to-table restaurant. It was Paul’s birthday tomorrow, so I thought it would be a nice treat.

When we were checking in, I was a little concerned with the swarm of midges that were surrounding us. Lake Mývatn means mý ("midge") and vatn ("lake"); in other words, the lake of midges") due to the large numbers of midges present in the summer.

I really, really hoped they wouldn’t be a problem as I was very much looking forward to this stop.

Hverir Geothermal AreaWe got in too late to really do anything tonight, so we just walked from our campsite over to the farm, and visited the lambs in the field and the cows in the cowshed.

Oh, and we also peeked into the restaurant. It looked really nice and quite crowded, so we made reservations for the following night.
So, tonight it was dinner in the camper van - ground beef and veggie tortillas, a nice break from Herb’s pylsurs.

Hverir geothermal areaThen off to bed because tomorrow was going to be a busy one - exploring and hiking through many of Lake Mývatn's geothermal areas, soaking in the Lake Mývatn Geothermal Spa , and concluding with Paul’s Birthday bash at the Vogafjós Farm Resort.

The Hverir geothermal area is an extremely popular destination, so in order to avoid the crowds, we got there by 8:00 am and were the first ones in a very large parking lot.

Hverir geothermal areaHverir, which means “hot springs” in Icelandic, is a high-temperature geothermal area with boiling, hissing, and bubbling fumaroles (steam vents) and solfataras (mud pots).

There is a loop trail along a boardwalk that brings you close to the geothermal features. Unlike Yellowstone, there were no fences or barriers of any sort.

Herb near an old boreholeAlthough there are no geysers here, there were lots of steaming fumaroles. Fumaroles are vents in the Earth’s surface that emit hot volcanic steam and gases, including carbon dioxide, sulfur dioxide, hydrogen sulfide, hydrogen chloride, and hydrogen fluoride.

The gas and heat here are generated approximately 1,000 meters below the surface, where the temperature is above 200°C (392°F). Cold groundwater seeps down to magma intrusions, where it is superheated and returns to the surface with the gas.

Climbing up Mt. NámafjallHerb found a rock pile which was placed over an old borehole. The steam coming from it was so massive that he kept disappearing in and out of the steam. Boreholes are drilled to use geothermal water for electricity production and the construction of heating plants. Sometime I like to call Herb an old "borehole."

The whole area is very colorful with yellow, orange, pink, white, and gray. Yellow, which comes from the sulfur dioxide deposits, is the dominant color.

Along the Mt. Námafjall hikeAs with all geothermal areas, there was an overwhelming smell of rotten eggs, which comes from the hydrogen sulfide

This area has been nicknamed “eldhús djöfulsins” or Hell’s Kitchen. With the rising steam, bubbling pots, and rotten egg smell, it’s easy to see why.

Climbing Mt. NámafjallFrom the boardwalk, we followed a trail up to the summit of an orange-colored rhyolite mountain called Námafjall, where the views from the top were supposed to be worth the climb.

We didn’t realize it at the time, but the trail begins either in the northwest (right) or the southwest (left) corner of the base of Namafjall.

Unknowingly we went up the left side, which was much steeper, and went clockwise around the mountain. At least, going back down was much easier.

Herb at the topAt one point the trail was so steep and slippery with scree (loose stones) that many people turned back. Undaunted (well, maybe a little daunted), we forged on to the top - and we were probably the oldest people on the trail.

From the summit there was a terrific view of the Hverir geothermal area below in one direction and Lake Myvatn and more steaming fumaroles in the other.

View of Hverir from the top of Mt. NámafjallThe trail down would have been a whole lot easier going up than the one went up, but I’m glad we did it the challenging way.

The parking lot was now quite full and the Hverir geothermal area, which we had pretty much had to ourselves an hour ago, was now teeming with tourists. So glad we got here first.

From Hverir, we took a short drive to the Krafla volcanic area, situated atop the Mid-Atlantic Ridge, where the North American and Eurasian plates meet. The Krafla volcano last erupted in 1984 and is considered an active volcano. Hopefully, today wouldn’t be the day.

Viti CraterThe Viti Crater was formed in 1724 by a massive eruption that lasted 5 years. Its brilliant aqua blue water is due to elements brought up from the geothermal activity in the area.

From the trail around the Viti Crater we could see the Krafla Geothermal Station (the largest power plant in Iceland).

I don’t totally understand it, but generating geothermal electricity works something like this:

Geothermal Plant behind Viti CraterThermal energy emitted from the Earth’s core heats up water seeping down from the surface into magma chambers. Formed steam, flowing up, is then withdrawn to the turbines which converts the steam into electricity. Steam is then condensed into water and reinjected back to the Earth, closing the water cycle. This particular power plant produces 500 GWh of electricity.

Along the Leirhnjukur lava field trailIceland generates over 99% of its electricity from renewable sources, namely hydroelectricity and geothermal.

Today, 90% of homes and buildings are connected to district heating powered by geothermal, and the other 10% are heated with electricity generated from hydro and geothermal power.

Despite its natural beauty, the bright blue lake you see near the geothermal station is actually wastewater from the power plant. The source of its absolutely stunning color is a mineral in the wastewater called silica.

Crater along the Leirhnjukur trailI hate to give away any secrets, but the amazingly beautiful water in the famous Blue Lagoon Spa is also wastewater from a nearby geothermal plant. But more on that in a much later stop.

After the Viti Crater, we decided to hike the 2.5-mile trail through the lava fields of nearby Leirhnjukur, part of the Krafla volcano that erupted in 1984, creating lots and lots of lava. It is still a very active volcano.

Path through the Leirhnjukur lava fieldBefore getting to the lava fields, we came upon a beautiful aqua-colored hot spring. In the distance you can see the smoke coming from the Krafla Geothermal station.

From there we continued on the marked paths around the lava fields. You’re not supposed to stray from the marked trails, because the lava field is still producing heat.

Mývatn Nature BathsThis lava was jet black, meaning it was from a recent lava flow and still hot.

Enough with all this hiking through volcanic terrain. Time to celebrate Paul’s birthday at the Myvatn Geothermal Spa, with water as blue as the Blue Lagoon, and magnificent views of the surrounding steaming fumaroles. And it’s ¼ the price (after our senior discount).

Birthday boyI was very much looking forward to these thermal baths, even more so than the Blue Lagoon, which we planned to do at the end of our trip. These seemed much less commercialized, much less crowded, and surrounded by a more natural setting of steaming fumaroles from the nearby Hverir Geothermal Area.

However, that beautiful milky blue water does not occur naturally, but rather is the result of minerals such as silica, in the wastewater of Geothermal Plants. In the case of the Myvatn Nature Baths, the water supplies for the lagoon run straight from the National Power Company's borehole in Bjarnarflag just a mile north.

Hilda and I under an artificial "foss"When the water from the borehole arrives at the Nature Baths, it is about 130°C (266°F), so it has to be stored in a huge basin beside the lagoon to cool off for a while. I actually wandered over there at one point, thinking it was another pool to go in, but it was gated off.
The water in the various pools in the lagoon are between 97 and 104°F, which is very comfortable and relaxing.

After paying our very reasonable $25 admission (senior discount!!), Hilda and I headed towards the women’s showers and Herb and Paul appropriately went to the men’s.

Dinner at the Vogafjós Farm ResortAfter going through the process of showering, putting our stuff in lockers, removing any silver or brass jewelry (because the sulfur in the water can turn them black), we reunited with the guys in one of the pools.

Then Paul’s birthday celebration began, which included a glass of wine from the lagoon-side bar. Not bad. My birthday was tomorrow, but Paul’s was going to be hard to beat.

We spent about two very relaxing hours in the thermal baths before heading back to camp to get ready for dinner.

Window to cowshed on the other side of the restaurantNo powdered potatoes in the van for us tonight. Instead, we had dinner at the nearby Vogafjós Farm Resort, where local farm-to-table food is served.

I thought it was a little bad form that Herb and Paul ordered the lamb shank while watching the cute little sheep wander past our window.

Glad we had the farm view. The other side of the restaurant had a glass window separating it from the cowshed.

Hverfjall Crater HikeThat's a little too farm-to-table for me. Hilda and I had the delicious “sea”-to-table Artic Char

There is really so much to do in the Lake Myvatn area that we could easily have spent a few more days here. In fact, the next morning we decided to squeeze in just one more volcanic hike before continuing along the Ring Road.

Hverfjall Crater HikeThis time we decided to hike to the top of the 1,300-foot high Hverfjall Crater, a massive black ash tephra cone, or tuff ring volcano.

It last erupted 4,500 years ago. It is considered a high tephra explosion crater because of the massive amounts of ash and volcanic rock that it blasted all over the area.

Hverfjall Crater HikeThe crater is a full kilometer wide and about 140 meters (460 feet) deep. It is dark and has a beautiful almost perfectly circular shape, like a stadium or an amphitheater.

It was a fairly steep trail, with an elevation gain of about 700 feet, to get up to the rim from the parking lot. From there, we started walking counter-clockwise around the rim.

Hverfjall Crater HikeFrom the rim, we could look out towards lovely Lake Myvatn on one side, and the ubiquitous steam rising from the earth on the other.

I’ve never thought of a crater as pretty or elegant before, but this one was both.

Looking down into the crater, we saw a large mound in the middle. Not all craters have these, only those in which the impact was powerful enough to form what is known as a central peak, made from debris that flowed like a fluid and then solidified into a mound in the middle of the crater.

Yellow wildflowers near an 1880s sheepfoldFrom there, we continued along the rim and then down the steep trail to the parking lot, which now had a few cars and a small tour bus. Once again, being the first one on a hike, as we were this morning, is always more special.

As we were leaving the Lake Myvatn area we pulled over to admire a field of beautiful yellow wildflowers surrounded by fences built from piled up black lava rock.

It turned out to be what’s called a sheepfold and it was built in 1880.I’ve become pretty obsessed about sheep this trip. They are almost as cute as puffins, in their own wooly way. I’m even reading a book about the life of a rural of

An 1880s SheepfoldIn early summer, the farmers let their sheep graze in the highland pastures north and east of Myvatn. In autumn they would gather the sheep again and drive them into the main compartment (double row of lava stone) of this sheepfold. Every sheep is marked by its owner’s earmark enabling him to identify it and move it into his individual compartment of the sheepfold.

I was so excited because I was currently reading Independent People, which is about sheep farmers in Iceland in the early 1900s, and I was coincidentally up to the part where they all went out sheep gathering to collect and separate their sheep for the winter. I really am a nerd.

Ok, so now it was really time to move on. Next stop, Godafoss, one of the most beautiful waterfalls in Iceland.

Travelogue

Hike to Litlanesfoss and HengifossWe got a bit off schedule with our detour to Borgarfjörður Eystri (but it was so worth it!), so it was going to be mostly a driving day with one fun stop along the way - a hike to the beautiful Hengifoss waterfall.

We were only back on the Ring Road for 5 miles before turning south on Road 931, and driving for 20 miles along the shores of Lagarfljót Lake to the trailhead for Hengifoss. It was a bit more of an out-and-back than I previously thought.

Approaching LitlanesfossAs with many places in Iceland, there is a legend associated with this lake. Rocks, mountains, lakes, etc., all seem to have magical creatures (elves, trolls, monsters) either living in them or being turned into them. In this case, it's a large heath-worm (black slug).

But before we get to the legend of the heath-worm, let’s get to the reason we were here in the first place - the hike to the lovely waterfall known as Hengifoss.

Lovely LitlanesfossThe hike to Hengifoss is one of the most popular hikes in East Iceland, so by the time we got to the trailhead, the parking lot was already quite full.

From the parking lot, we began walking up a steady, but gradual hill, with a peaceful bucolic view of farmland and the river Hengifossá behind us.

At a little less than a mile we came to the first waterfall, Litlanesfoss, notable for the beautiful basalt columns surrounding it, like layers of thick curtains. These basalt columns are 15 to 20 meters high, making them the highest basalt columns in Iceland.

Approaching HengifossThis waterfall alone would have been worth the hike, but it is unfortunately overshadowed by its more impressive neighbor, Hengifoss.

We continued on for about another ¾ of a mile to the beautiful and unique Hengifoss, known for its distinctive alternating layers of volcanic bedrock interlaced with beds of bright red mud and ash deposits.

As the falls have carved out the canyon, the ash deposits have become conspicuously exposed, resulting in nearly a dozen very vivid stripes of red earth running perpendicular to the falls across the darker cliff face.

HengifossAt 128 meters high, it is also the third highest waterfall in Iceland.

On the hike down, we had a choice of retracing our steps or veering off to the left when we came to a bridge. We chose to see something new and I am so glad we did.

About a third of the way down, we came to an amazing collection of basalt columns. Because of frequent volcanic activity, Iceland has more basalt column sites than any other place on the planet, and we had seen many, but none as impressive as these.

Hengifoss up closeBasaltic columns such as these have inspired architects in Iceland, as we saw in the exterior of the beautiful Hallgrímskirkja in Reykjavik.

Okay, now for the Legend of the giant heath-worm of Lagarfljót Lake.

As legend has, a little girl was given a gold ring by her mother, who told her to place it under a heath-worm so that the gold would multiply. She did as her mother said, but when she checked back on it a few days later, she found that the worm had grown so large that it had broken open the chest she had placed it in.

Incredible basalt columns on the hike downTerrified, she threw the worm and the gold into the lake, where it continued to grow, terrorizing the countryside, killing people and animals and spitting poison onto the farmlands. This was not a nice worm.

Two Finnish magicians were commissioned to destroy it and retrieve the gold. However, all they managed to do was to tie its head and tail to the bottom of the lake, only allowing it to arch its back above the lake’s surface. If the worm ever manages to get lose, not only will it cause trouble again, but it will bring about the end of the world.

Well isn't that cheery.

Travelogue

Campsite view - Álfaborg, home of the elvesOriginally we thought we would camp in Seydisfjordur, but that was before we added Borgarfjörður eystri, home to one of the largest puffin colonies in Iceland, to our already packed itinerary.

We really wanted to see puffins (other than on a menu), and that was pretty much a guarantee at Borgarfjörður eystri, where 10,000 pairs of puffins nest every year between April and August.

Borgarfjörður eystri fishing villageThe best time of the day to see puffins is between 7:00 and 10:00 in the morning when they are getting ready for a day of fishing out at sea, and then again in the evening between 6:00 and 10:00 when they return to their burrows.

Camping near there would provide us with a chance to see them both times in the evening and then the following morning.

Marina with puffin colony behindSo, well left Seydisfjordur and drove back up the winding Road 93 towards Egilsstaðir, and then turned onto 94 which took us up and over some more mountains before coming to the end of the road in Borgarfjörður eystri, where the puffins nest. It was about an hour and a half drive.

This was by far our longest driving day to date - over four and a half hours (from Vestrahorn to here) rather than our leisurely two. But, as we would find out, it was definitely worth it.

Puffins in their burrowBorgarfjörður eystri is a quaint little fishing village of 130 people, 20,000 puffins, and countless sheep. We checked into the only campground in town, the Borgarfjörður eystri Campsite, which was quite lovely, set at the foot of a rocky hill called Álfaborg, which the campground website claimed was home to elves. Fortunately, the website added that the elves don't mind guests as long as they respect their home, the rocks. Ok, got it. I would have been much more worried if it was inhabited by trolls.

Marital spat?I’ve seen various statistics of what percentage of Icelandic people believe in elves, and it varies from just under 50% to up to 80%. Even those that don’t believe in them are hesitant to deny their existence, respect the traditions and myths surrounding them, and tread lightly when entering elf territory, just in case.

Those wings flap 400 times per minuteWell, anyway, elves have great taste, because that mountain was stunning. Not sure, how the stranded boat near the base of their mountain got there. Perhaps the owners were disrespectful.

We were pretty excited about seeing puffins, so almost immediately, we drove the short distance from the campground to the puffin colony, which is located on the grassy rock promontory behind the Hafnarhólmi marina.

Tucking in for a landingBefore leaving the parking lot, we just had to spend some time watching the sheep playing in the field. Each ewe gives birth to two lambs at a time. The lambs are adorable and they roll around on each other and play like puppies. I think they would be great pets. Just think of the sweaters!

Morning commute back to the puffins colonyWe had to drag ourselves away to go see the puffins.

We walked up to the hill behind the marina, where there was a shelter and wooden viewing platforms where we could get really close to the puffins without damaging their burrows. We were separated from them by a fence, but still, we were really close.

Along the way to the puffins colonyThis was definitely the place. There were hundreds of them right near us - coming in and out of their burrows, strutting around, mingling with each other, and most fun of all, flying in from a day at sea fishing for herring and sand eels.

There are several species of puffins, but the ones in Iceland are Atlantic Puffins. In fact, Iceland is home to more Atlantic Puffins than any other country in the world.

Playful lambsThey are beautiful birds, or at least they are during the breeding season (April through August) when they are trying to impress the ladies. It is only then that their bills turn a colorful reddish-orange, earning them the nicknames “sea parrot” and “clown of the sea.” As winter approaches the bright colors begin to fade.

They live in underground burrows, which they dig using their bills and feet. They use their bills to cut into soil and then shovel away loose material with their feet. They like to make their burrows between rocks or on steep cliffs so predators can’t easily reach them.

Off to workPuffins mate for life although they do not begin the mating process until they are 5 years old, just about the time when we humans start kindergarten.

The female lays one egg and both parents take turns incubating the egg for about 40 days. Once the egg hatches, the puffling (the puffin chick) and the adults return to the sea.

Puffins spend most of their time out at sea living a solitary existence, and only return to the crowded, busy colonies during breeding season.

Ready to start their day at seaPuffins are not only good swimmers, but they are also very fast fliers. They can flap their wings up to 400 times per minute and reach speeds of 50 mph. That speed made it very difficult for Herb to photograph them flying in for a landing. It was only after we got home and we reviewed the photos that we saw how awkward, and very amusing, they look when they come dive bombing in for a landing.

They are not exactly the most graceful fliersWe could have watched them for hours, but it was getting late and we had had a very busy day. I can’t believe that it was only this morning that we were wandering around a Viking Village.

The next morning we couldn’t just leave Borgarfjörður Eystri without saying goodbye to our puffin friends, so we drove back to the puffin colony to observe their morning activities.

We ran into a bit of traffic on the way over.

This time we watched as they climbed out of their burrows and prepared for flight, spreading their wings and looking out to sea. Some of them didn't seem in too much of a hurry to get going. Also, I'm not sure if just one of the pair goes out to sea, while the other one stays near the burrow with the egg. In either case, it looked like a busy little community about to start their day.

Gotta love them lambies thoughOnce again, we had to pull ourselves away from the puffins. Watching them can be very addictive. The sheep were pretty darn cute too!

I saw an article online that the annual sheep round-up for Borgarfjörður Eystri is facing a labor shortage, due to both a dwindling population and the increasing age of the sheep farmers themselves, so they are asking for people to come out and help with the herding. I’m seriously thinking about it. They are so adorable.

Time to hit the road