Iceland

Arnold Patchett

A remarkable country – a population of only 270,000 but with it’s own Parliament, Universities…
Unless one takes part in a northern cruise, the point of airival must be Keflavik International Airport, because any visitor with a sense of adventure is in great haste to arrive as quickly as possible, and then take a coach to Reykjavik, the capital city. It must be the cleanest, unpolluted capital of note in the world. It’s streets are spotless and litter free. Most of the hot water used there is piped from natural sources. I saw no chimney stacks.

A good start is to drive, or be driven, along the south coast to Vik, the most southerly place in the whole country, passing on one’s left the veiy high cliffs over which a series of waterfalls tumble no less than 200 feet. We made a special stop at Skogafoss, the largest (it is about 20 yards wide).

It looks near to the road, but once off the coach, it took all of ten minutes to reach within 100 yards of it… To get nearer, one risks getting drenched with spray. From the base of the cliffs, up to which sea came in the dim past, to the present sea shore varies fiom 35 miles to about one mile until the town of Vik is reached… From thence the coastal strip widens and one reaches Shafterfell National Park after crossing a very wide outwash of black lava sand by means of a wooden bridge (partially destroyed during November 1996 when part of the Vatnajokull icecap melted through volcanic eruption and caused damaging flooding). Whilst staying for a few days at the Shafterfell Hotel, my companion and I arrived at Jokulsarlon lagoon. A tongue of glacier descended into the lagoon and we took a boat trip among the icebergs suitably clad in red lifejackets. Fairly near here, we were taken by a fanner to Ingolfshofdi across the sands, and climbed up a very steep slope of dry black sand to reach the grassy summit. It appears to be an island, but at it’s base a long and nanow strip of lowland joins it to the mainland. On the summit we encountered countless sea birds. It is no exaggeration to say that there were tens of thousands of puffins, with theft gaily coloured beaks, perched on perilous ledges along the cliffs.

From the visitors’ centre of the National  Park   of  Shafterfell, we climbed several hundred feet to Svartifoss, a spectacular waterfall which pours over the ends of horizontal basaltic columns which lie on upright columns of the same rock. From there a moorland path eventually led us to an enormous glacier descending from yet another point of the Vatnajokull.

Our next objective was Akureyri, Iceland’s second city, almost at the head of the long inlet from the Arctic Ocean. A most attractive city it is too. To get there we took a plane from Reykjavik international airport. It tool less than half an hour. We spent a pleasant morning in the town, or should I say city. The main shopping street is pedestrianised, and what smart shops there are, The waterfront is dehghtfully arranged. Colourful gardens abound. The church is an unusual one and very modem: about fifty years old. We were thrilled to learn that the central panel of the east window came from the old Coventry Cathedral: it was rescued from the remains of that cathedral following the World War II blitz. The other windows of the church were designed by a fimi in Exeter, Devon, J. Whipple & Co.

Whilst in Akureyri, we stayed at what was once a farm, but the fanner had developed it into a veiy attractive hotel with en suite facilities and a licence. The drinks were far cheaper than we had met elsewhere.

Our first trip fiom Akureyri was to Husavik, one of the most northerly fishing centres in the world. I stood alongside a huge vat of fish and held up a large hening and shouted ‘Any advance on fifty Kronur’ and an array of photographers appeared from nowhere!

{Husavik has a unique church and a very polished and up-to-date museum with a centre-piece of one of the few and indeed the largest polar bears ever caught in Iceland.}

However, up the river is another famous waterfall, Godafoss, with to it’s south a lake, Myvatn, dotted with weird volcanic formations. June and July are good times to visit Iceland, but not Myvatn as it is often plagued with midges at that time of year. It is nevertheless a fantastic drive around the lake. A short distance from the lake speleologists will be interested to note, is a special cave: Grojtagoa if I remember rightly. It was entered down a twelve foot rocky slope to a ‘path’ of sorts. Alongside the path is a stream of lovely hot water. Wouldn’t it be dehghtful to be able to wade along Lost John’s master cave in hot water after having drenched in the Thunderstorm Depot.

In the north-east again is the Asbyrgi Gorge which leads through a wooded area down to a ciystal clear pool complete with ducks. It had, though, no apparent outlet. A lovely circular walk took us about an hour.

Then, still in the northern area, is Namaskard with its colourful mud pools, the centres of which are thrown up eveiy few minutes by means of a natural steam vent. These we watched at close quarters. Some of the most violent ones were roped off.

The piece de resistance in this area is, of course, Dettifoss, the most powerful falls in Europe. It is almost breath-taking – the wanner and sunnier the weather the more water roars over the oblique precipice. We had enjoyed ten days of sunshine so far with only the odd white cloud now and again but no rain. As we approached Dettifoss though, black clouds came over and extra large rain drops fell but not for very long. However, that short spell of bad weather added greatly to the awesome power of nature. Below, the river winds it’s way down a magnificent canyon for several miles.

A long and fantastic trip by a mini-bus took us from Akureyri to the long peninsula of Snaefellsness on the west coast, where we spent three nights at Stykkisholmur. It’s colourful harbour is protected by a huge outcrop of fluted rock bathed in the sunshine for eleven hours a day – at least in the summer. We climbed Helgafell just south of the town to get a wide view of the many islands in the bay to the north, then visited them at close quarters in a large passenger boat. Whilst we are getting close-up photographs of cormorants, puffins and the like, some of the crew have dropped nets and before returning to harbour we taste generous portions of a great variety of shell fish straight out of the sea. Glasses of white wine are handed down and we drink to the health of all.

The south coast of the peninsula is very wild, and we explored it’s abundant spectacular basaltic formations. In parts the load is literally sandwiched between the sea and the high ground. The latter rises to the ice cap.

When I look back on our journey so many attractive places come to mind such as the original cottages and tiny churches, all with roofs of turf Secluded gardens full of gay flowers, coniferous forests and a hill we climbed without looking back, the promise of good lock and good health provided we walked to the grave of Gourun Osvifursdottir and made the sign of the cross over it. Then walk in silence up the mountain looking neither right nor left. Finally, having reached the top, walk into the rocky quarry and whilst looking towards the east, quietly and sincerely make three wishes. When we first climbed this hill, Helgafell, we did not realise it was the place which could make our wishes come true… so we had to climb it again.

I have found it difficult to convince friends in England that every day we had a picnic lunch outside, sitting on dry grass or heather and even warm rocks.

These lunches were provided by our guide and consisted of coffee, tea, mineral water, lashings of superb bread, butter, slices of ham, tongue, cheese and fish paste with perhaps a custard and sweet biscuits. At lunch times we were always ‘far from the maddening crowd’.

On our final day we journeyed back to Reykjavik and visited the Pearl, a comparatively new domed construction high above the city centre. It contains a rriiniature geyser with a great column of water spouting up from time to time. Of course there is a bar and restaurant and it is reached by a lift.

At the huge duty-free shop at Keflavik airport I got some much better bargains than I’ve found at many other places abroad, but perhaps I’d better keep quiet about that.