Day 5- The right kind of lonely
I left Reykjavik as the sun was rising over the city. SO about 9:30ish. Seriously it boggles my mind they way the light works this far north. It’s one thing to know about it from facts and whatnot, another to experience it for yourself. Got a pastry from a recommended bakery called Braüd & Co. Honestly, the place smelled a bit like burnt bread which I thought was not a good sign at all. And the inside had this cage of flour right inside the door and just rows and rows of stacks of bread. Everything was in Icelandic so I had a moment where I worried about translation issues. But never fear! The English language is pervasive and pointing at what I wanted clarified any possible miscommunications. Or who knows, they guessed and I got lucky with getting what I wanted. They spoke English, so don’t get me wrong, but it was kind of loud in there. (Ovens were beeping their readiness and others were beeping with input information.)
And this might be a lesson about judging before you try, but the Cinnamon roll and chocolate pastry I had were delicious.
Pastries in tow, Hallsgrimskirja waved to, I left the city and made my way east. On my way, I realized that I had been this way before, but I hadn’t gone very far. It was the same road that led to the Blue Lagoon, which I had driven to and from in snow and darkness. Gotta say, the drive looked so much easier in the daylight.
So, day 5. I had today, tomorrow, and I had to be leaving on the 7th. Which meant that I could drive all day as far as I wanted so long as I could make either half or ¾ of the trip back by the end of day 6th. (I figured that I could make a stop or two here on the day of my flight, but I had to be able to get to the airport by 2.)
So today I planned to get to Jokursarlon. A glacier lagoon that was filled with icebergs and that had a beach that English speakers refer to as “Diamond Beach”. Gotta say, that’s a bit misleading. Not a lot of book or online guides call it that. Everytime I typed it last night, google was like, “Oh, Diamond Beach? Yeah New Jersey is lovely- here’s directions!”
No, google.
No.
And it was only about a 5+ hour drive. Sweet. Off I go into the wide expanse of the road with a destination in mind, but obviously letting my whims stop me where they will.
I ignored the towns on the route because I wanted to get to the nature part of Iceland.
Sometimes I feel bad for not caring that much about the city of Reykjavik or Selfoss or Keflavik or…any of them. I think it’s my ignorance of them. This is where I feel guilty about how little I planned here. I’m sure they’re lovely towns/cities, just…not what I came here for.
Driving down the road, on either side are these huge expanses of land as far as the eye can see. In some parts though, the map showed how close I was to the ocean and I realize that, yes! That is the ocean to my right! And then the road curves slightly inland, more farmlands and fields strewn with boulders and moss. Which, don’t mistake that for it looking….I don’t know…boring? It’s far from it.
It’s weird. Jay you’ll have first hand experience with this next bit.
When I was in Nebraska for the solar eclipse, driving through golden fields as far as the eye could see….I got nervous. I don’t know, there was so much land between me and places to get necessities. Car starts running low on gas? Haven’t seen a gas station for miles. Need food/water? Too bad. Bathroom? HA.
But here, I don’t know. I liked it. I liked the vastness of it all, and how sometimes I felt like I could pull off the side of the road and just sit there for minutes before another car would make an appearance. In fact I did that sometimes.
And it’s funny that it felt so devoid of humans because when I saw my first true stop of the day (the twin sister falls) Selffoss (sp?) and Gulgifoss (sp?) there were a ton of people there. Well, a ton for November. A ton for a rather grey/gray day in November.
Like, the parking lot seemed rather full and there were people along every stop of the 500m path from each fall.
It seemed like most people congregated around the first major fall. Don’t blame them. In truth, you could see the first fall from the major road. The second one you had to walk to. Totally worth it, but the first fall was pretty spectacular, and you didn’t have to go down a super icy path to get to it.
Yeah, the trail from each fall was in some sections, completely iced over.
I’m from Florida! I’m not built for ice except in drinks! Like, I’ve got heavy duty boots on (same ones from the first day, I didn’t bring any other footwear. ) but, that doesn’t mean they can walk on ice.
And the first few ice patches you could walk around, but then it got a little ridiculous in some places.
Like I get it, you’re called Iceland, there’s going to be ice, but maybe calm down a bit.
But, you all know me. False confidence abounds. I was doing well, and there’s a waterfall between the two that has this really fun feature. I don’t think I had a great picture of it, so here’s what’s happening if you can’t see it. Main part is cascading down the cliff, stream is bouncing down the path towards another stream and is passing underneath the walking path via a tunnel thing. And I’m not sure exactly cause I never got close enough, but it looks like that because parts of the top is frozen over, there’s pressure that’s forcing a tiny jet of water into the air. (It could be like that year-round. I wouldn’t know). So, I’m like, “I gotta have a pic of that.” But oh, the hill leading directly to the jet is frozen. And it’s kinda steep. But this frozen part of the hill isn’t too steep. I can walk up bit so long as I’m careful. So up I go, gingerly stepping up the ICY path, I get into my photographer’s pose (the crouching one….you know the one). *snap snap snap*. Hmm. *snap snap*. Few more pics later I ‘give’ up. Either I got one I’ll like, or I’m not going to get it. Not from where I am. But I’m just going to move on. So, I stand up, and fun fact. I started off this photo series by myself, when I finished I look around and there’s a group surrounding me taking pictures of the same thing.
No biggie, but I’m leaving now. Except….I take one, then two steps and WHAM. I’m flat on my back looking at the sky. So this new group of people all witnessed this spectacular fall and I was helped up but I kinda slunk away like a cat when they’re ungraceful. Meaning, after the initial “Thanks for helping me up, I’m fine, just hurt my pride” I booked it as fast as possible away not looking back once, keeping my head high.
After that I was even more careful! Added a lot of time to my trip, not going to lie. But I never fell again.
Maybe a little bit because I kind of avoided super steep hills after that.
When you get to the second of the major falls, they have this….rock that juts its way into the sky. It kinda of looks like a land island.
And you can climb to the top, but it’s very steep, and I had my camera gear with me, and I had just fallen….I know, I know. Excuses.
I vowed to climb it the next time in Iceland. 😉
Second falls were pretty cool themselves. They had carved a nook in a canyon for them, with an arch as a window facing them head-on. And there was this grotto(?) that I thought would lead to it, but nope. Just straight up cliff walls and a neat raven feather that makes me wonder if birds nest here in better weather?
I instead just took pics from the arch, got as close as the ice would let me.
And here’s something that’s neat I noticed.
There’s a ton of photographers here in Iceland. (Gee I wonder why?) But there was this phenomenon where a line would form for certain places (like at the arch) and people took turns taking pictures, others would get out of the way, just overall a sort of photographers’ code to allow others to try and get a good shot. It was super neat, and maybe the first time I really noticed it?
I got my shots, moved on, and took a “break”. Mostly I just put my camera bag down, and took some shots of a bird that was hanging out in the area.
Then I made my way back to the main falls where I did do another stupid ice hill thing.
There’s a staircase that leads to a place where a.) You can take pictures and b.) leads you to a trail where you can walk behind the falls.
Now, I’ve mentioned the ice a few times now. There were two flights to this staircase, one with some gravel and grass poking through the back (first, easier flight) and second treacherous staircase. Now this staircase had a layer of ice that was at least an inch thick. On the railing, on the steps, just everywhere you don’t want ice to be. And no traction options at all, not even a little bit like the first one. And yes I climbed those stairs. And I think that I got some worthwhile shots. I did not go behind the falls because I don’t have a death wish or a desire to fill out an insurance claim about losing my camera gear into a waterfall surrounded by ice.
And it was another moment where I was by myself. I bet in summer you’re lucky to get elbow room, but here I was with this awesome view all to myself.
I realize I’ve been there a while and it was probably time for me to move on.
Guess what I got to go back down? THE ICE STAIRCASE OF DEATH.
Guess what happened next? I tossed all decency out the window and scooted down the staircase on my butt. I still slid down some stairs. At one point I slid down 3 stairs before I caught myself on the railing. But you can’t fall when you’re already on the ground.
Someone coming up was totally bemused by my attempt, and I’m pretty sure I shouted “No shame!” At one point.
The second staircase was easier, in that there was a path next to it everyone else had been taking cause it wasn’t as covered in ice. I went down like a pro, and was even told in almost those exact words. “You’re like a pro going down!”
I had such sure footing I helped some people coming up get to the first landing.
I was proud of myself there.
After that, I made a short detour where I thought I was taking a road that would lead around the volcano Eyjallafokull (????). It might have, but I needed a better equipped car. It was a super gravelly road so I made my way back to the main road.
Drove to the next water fall, Skogafoss! I did pass the volcano apparently btw, on the main road. But ignorant me didn’t realize it. It just looks like a mountain covered in snow and ice.
Now getting to Skogafoss is fun.
Here’s the thing I didn’t know to expect about Iceland.
The main tourist attractions, areas, etc, are not advertised like they would be in the US. The signs they have, basically, look like road signs. Like ‘Maple Ave this way.’
Thank goodness for my GPS cause I would have driven right by it. Cause it’s sort of behind a…not a village, but there’s a hotel, a bistro and some houses, and it’s set deep into a cliff not visible from the road.
And it was another instance of I’d been on the road by myself for a while, but when I turned to park it was jammed pack.
Still cold, still grey, and occasionally windy. You could get close but guess what! More ice! I did get pretty good at walking on it, but if I have to recommend anything for future winter hikers, it’d be crampons. Or ice spikes. Whatever you want to call them. But the shoe accessories you slip onto the sole of your footwear and suddenly you can walk with confidence on ice. At the previous falls I saw a guy using them on the stairs and I didn’t realize that’s what it was at first. I just thought he was super coordinated.
So yeah, I walked on more ice to get close to another waterfall. This one had a lovely amount of spray blowing my way so I had to keep wiping down my camera and lenses.
And I would have loved to get closer but…ice, water, wind, it started to become a bit unpleasant with the gear I had and the clothes I had on. There is a myth apparently that there’s buried treasure behind the falls or something but no one was looking today.
But the fun didn’t stop at the icy bottom of the falls. Oh no. There was a staircase that went up a nearby hill/cliff. It was grassy and it was steep. THIS staircase though was not icy and totally manageable. Except for you know, the obscene amount of steps. On my way up, I passed by a group of British (I assume cause accents) tourists were one of the guys was telling one of the girls,
“That was 32 flights!”
Not exactly sure where he got that number. But it was a lot of stairs.
And ashamedly I had to stop a few times on the way up. And look, I’m still going up so I’m not super embarrassed that I’m a bit winded. It also gives me a chance to get a look around. A woman stopped by me and she was also out of breath. Tried making small talk and I said “Taking a break?”
“Oh, no, I’m going to keep struggling to the top.”
“No shame in a break!”
So, even if I didn’t say no shame earlier, I know I said it at these falls.
When I reached the top, it turns out there was a lot more to see. A path extended along the hill much further inland, following the river that fed the waterfall. The river sat in a small canyon to the left after you first climbed up the stairs and the landscape was a rolling expanse of grassy fields leading down to the sea. Across the river a farm with several ponies and sheep roamed. I followed it for a bit, more waterfalls revealing themselves below, not quite the drop as Skogafoss, but nonetheless impressive. Photographers were lined up along the cliffs edge and path, taking shots of the scenery. I made the occasional stop, but continued until I reached a ridge. It overlooked the valley and the river, and it felt like a good stopping point for the amount of light I had left.
At this point, I was alone. I couldn’t see anyone else. The landscape obscured the few I had passed and the rest had simply left. This is why I called this post the right kind of lonely.
Because I found myself in this beautiful environment and as far as the eye could see there was no one but me. A land that was as beautiful as it was void of life. I couldn’t hear people, I couldn’t see buildings, I couldn’t even see the road from my position on the trail. And in standing in this place, I had a thought rise from a general sense of knowing to clear understanding. I was alone. In this moment I felt truly by myself with nothing but my thoughts as company. I didn’t have music playing, no phone, no books. Just me and nature. The river rushing by below, the winds over the grass and brisk cold.
And at the same time, I wasn’t missing company either. (No offense y’all). No one relying on me, no one to rely on. I found a boulder on the side of the trail and I sat for minutes by myself. It felt… right. Being alone in this huge space. Like I was the only person for miles, and truly soaking in the time and place of where I was. There was no concern for what others thought of me, no worrying about others.
I think it helped that I had seen that I wasn’t the only solo traveler. I had met several people traveling Iceland by themselves, and even at the falls I had seen individuals taking their own pictures (tripods, selfies).
I’ve been by myself on hikes. It happens a lot. And in Georgia, I hadn’t felt such a profound sense of peace in acknowledging the fact that I was alone.
For once, I wasn’t lonely because I was by myself, I was lonely because I was standing in an area that felt as remote from humans as I think I’d ever been. There was no sadness, just…awareness.
Anyways.
The minutes passed, and eventually people crept into view further down the trail. Photographers picked up tripods and moved past me to new spots. And I moved on.
I had thought I was heading to my car but I noticed that the path diverged a bit, one side curving into the hills away from the river. I followed it for a bit, but decided that I should get back and move on. However, as I turned around, I noticed a black dog staring at me from the main trail. Tiny little Scottish (I think) terrier. Just….staring at me. There were people on the trail, but no one was paying any mind to this dog, and I couldn’t tell where the owner was. For a moment I had a crazy idea that it belonged to the owner of the field I had started to wander into. Like this dog would show up to make sure people didn’t stray off the path.
Moved past him onto the main trail and he started strutting down the path I had just been on, constantly stopping to turn and look at me. One of those, “If this was a magic dog, he’s clearly asking me to follow him”.
And then I thought about Harry Potter and a bunch of folklore about black animals leading people to their deaths.
What do we say to the God of Death? Not today! SO I waved goodbye to my little Grim, but I kept looking for his owner. Seriously, who’s dog was this???
When it was clear I wasn’t following him, the dog trotted off down this other trail, and out of sight.
It was a little bizarre.
If I missed out on a magical journey because of superstitions, I’d be pretty mad.
But if he was a magical dog he did a poor job of enticing me to follow, so that was that.
I went back down the steep staircase, took one more shot of the waterfall (the place had cleared out of most of the tourists) and then I continued my journey east. The sun was already past sunset, and the sky was getting darker by the minute. Probably around 4:30ish at this point.
I was determined to get to Jokusarlaron (Iceberg Lagoon?) tonight. What I hadn’t planned on was the snow and sleet and dark roads that would make the drive so much more tough!
I had about 2 hours according to my GPS but that did not take into consideration the speed I’d slow to, to keep my control. Like I didn’t drive obscenely slow, but certainly slower than the 90 km/h that was legally allowed.
And it really sucks driving through Iceland in the dark because I just knew I was missing some amazing scenery, but what am I going to do? Stop and look around outside? It’ll still be dark and snowy.
Then, they have this lovely way of crossing rivers. It’s a single lane bridge. Like, seriously, only one car can go through at a time. Sometimes they’re pretty short, but I can’t really tell till I’m driving on it. There was this one bridge I got to that was rather too long for that kind of set-up and had even created little pull-offs on the bridge incase somebody else had also started crossing it. And this is on the main road that goes around the country I can’t imagine it’s easy to do this bridge nonsense in the summer. It was stressful in the dark but at least it was mostly deserted.
And I traversed more rivers and went up and around mountains and along the coast, only knowing this because of obvious inclines and curves or thanks to my trusty GPS. The snow would come and go, my visibility of the road dependent on the whims of nature. Sometimes it would get so bad that a.) Brights were useless! In fact, they made it worse! And b.) I decided to call it quits early and stop at the nearest place to stay. But then I’d see a sign for rooms, and drive right past it. I was nothing if not determined to make it to Jokusarloron.
And I made it! Around 7:30 I crossed a suspended one lane bridge and turned down the lane that led to the lagoon. The snow was still falling; not as hard as some places, but enough. I wasn’t the only car in the lot-there were about 4 others. It was like we were all seeking temporary shelter from the storm at hand. It probably helped that you could also get onto the Wifi from the café in the area.
I got out and tried to take some pictures of the lagoon in the dark, but the only good ones were the ones I lit up with the headlights from the car. And the snow was not making it easy.
I had reached my destination!
Now I needed a place to stay.
Do I head back the way I came, hoping one of the previous hotels/hostels/guesthouses have a room? Or do I move forward?
That’s when I turned to the internet. Hooray free wifi! I found a place 20 minutes further along, and after nearly running over a sheep, was getting my room by 9 pm.
The sheep story goes like this, so excuse the side-bar.
Driving. Snow and darkness. (The themes of the evening). You might remember that I’ve mentioned that some fields had several boulders of various sizes. The snow is coming down hard and my speed is s l o w. I see a white shape in front of me, a bit to my left. I wonder if the light is playing tricks on me, like maybe it’s a boulder covered in snow. But then it looks like the wrong kind of fluffy. AND it’s In the road! I put the brakes on and my lights illuminate a sheep who, after looking at me like a New Yorker, crosses in front of my car and bolts away. After the sheep crossed the road, I didn’t have any more incidences and I got to the bed and breakfast no problem.
I got to make dinner in the kitchen, and sleep in a room by myself!
Since this is an update, you might remember that while there was wifi in the place, it was not working for my computer. And my phone deleted most of my original post. So now here’s a SUPER LONG ONE. I apparently had a lot of thoughts about today.