ICELAND DAY 3 – WATERS ON THE DIAMOND

(readers note: I changed the format, so the pictures follow the relevant paragraphs.  Be sure to read all the way to the end.  Click on any picture to see all the pictures in full size)

Although the locals use the term “fire and ice” all the time, this island is really about the water.  The water melting off the glaciers colors every facet of daily life.  Of course, there’s the excellent drinking water, and iconic white-snow peaks that are the wallpaper to daily life.  But when a volcano erupts, and they do frequently around these parts, the people worry less about lava and fire and ash (which cause damage to relatively few) and more about water.  The eruptions tend to quickly melt the glaciers, causing massive, devastating flooding.

Checked out of our hotel, today we’re all about the prettier, happier water, heading out to see the waterfalls, geological features and other sites of the Golden Circle.  The consummate day trip for travelers staying in Reykjavik, the Golden Circle is a 140-mile loop on the western side of the country that takes you to some absolutely beautiful sites.  Our first stop is Thingvellir National Park.  This is the Philadelphia of Iceland, the site where Iceland’s (and the world’s) first parliament was formed in 930.  But today, we’re here for the geology, as this is also the place where the North American and Eurasian tectonic plates violently meet.  It seems that North America is winning, sliding up over the Eurasian plate and forming a tall, course, sheer cliff.  It’s the only place in the world where this North Atlantic Ridge is visible on land.  Walking beside it and looking down into the deep fissures caused by it, you can feel the brute power of the land masses.  Our easy 2-mile hike ends at the Oxararfoss waterfall, a broad cascade whose pool empties right into one of the main fissures.

Seeing water fall, it’s time to see it rise.  we head to Geyser, the geothermal “park” about an hour away. These days, Geyser itself rarely guises, its former glory taken over by Strokker just a few dozen yards away.  Strokker has been reliably guising every 5 minutes or so for a decade, but like a box of chocolate, you never know what you’re gonna get.  Some eruptions aren’t much more that a tub fart, while others can go 60 feet high.  We get the entire range in the half hour we spend there, plus take a look at the bubbling hot springs that dot the landscape.

Next stop is Gullfoss, one of the most picturesque waterfalls in Iceland.  Well, actually two of them, which makes it so fun to see.  The upper fall is broad and curved, the water crashing 33’ into the top of the lower fall.  The lower fall is about twice as high and dumps into a deep fissure that becomes the ensuing river.  The roar and force are palpable, and the constant mist spray makes this a literally immersive experience.  The waterflow can fill an Olympic swimming pool every second, and Mandy assumes that instead of counting “one Mississippi, two Mississippi” the local kids time hide-and-seek with “BAM-one-olympic-swimming-pool, BAM-two-olympic-swimming-pools”.  Ask her to do it for you next time you see her.

A 20 minute Kia ride down the road is Faxi, a smaller, wider waterfall.  Even though we’re getting hungry, it’s so easily accessible that we can’t resist.  We pull in, are the only people there and park about 10 yards from the water.  It’s the most peaceful place we’ve been in Iceland, just us, the falls and wild purple nootka (Alaskan Lupine) flowers.  It’s relaxing, so we watch and listen and be for a while.  Dipping my hand into the waters, it only takes a split-second to remember what they call this country.

2pm and close to hangry, we get to Fridheimar, our lunch stop.  We’ve been looking forward to this since we started planning in 2019, and had been envious of our friends who got here before us.  Fridheimar is a farm of 9 big greenhouses that harvests about 2000 pounds of tomatoes every day, about 40% of Iceland’s total.  But we’re here for lunch, because they’ve taken about half the space of the front greenhouse and turned it into one most innovative farm-to-table experiences we have experienced.  Only open noon to 4pm, tables book up quickly, even with tourism still not recovered from the pandemic.  While we wait for our table, we walk out front to play with the horses (did I mention they breed Icelandic horses, too?).  We have seen plenty of these horses in out travels and notice they all have a 70s-Farah-Faucet/80s-Senior-Prom Mullet kinda mane.  It’s endearing and we take to one horse that we instantly name Bon Jovi.  Back in the greenhouse we sit at the bar and order drinks, me the freshest Bloody ever made and Mandy the Happy Mary, a yummy cocktail of green tomatoes, lime, ginger, honey and vodka.  Seated at or table, we both get the signature entrée, the tomato soup buffet.  Served with rustic bread, sour cream and some other accoutrements, and revel in this simple, expertly prepared meal.

Next stop, Kerid Crater, the 3000-year-old volcano turned lake.  I’m not enthused about this one until I see it, then I’m in.  We walk the top perimeter and I realize the magnitude of the thing.  Then we walk down into the crater to the waters edge.  Having just seen a live volcano, we appreciate the opportunity to get a new perspective of the thing.  Our last stop for the day is Seljalandsfoss, the tallest waterfall we’ll see, and the only one we are able to walk behind.  The cloudy skys clear and we’re treated to a double rainbow in the mist.  What we realize is this isn’t a single waterfall, but what we nicknamed Waterfall Valley, two sides of sheer cliff that goes on for miles in both directions.  Driving through the valley, we see dozens of tall waterfalls, 200 to 300 feet tall.  We lose count but assume there are 2 or three every mile.

We check into the Umi Hotel a swank, modern number on the south coast.  It reminds me of the hotel from the James Bond film Skyfall, stark black concrete exterior with luxe finishes and a well-dressed professional staff.  It’s at once in stark contrast to the brutal environment and perfectly at home in the beautiful landscape.  Dinner is up the road at Café Anna, a family establishment created in the farmstead’s former livestock stable.  The wine is Italian and we order both specials.  Mandy gets the fresh caught cod, and I get the wild duck, which our server tells us is only on the menu because “they had a good day hunting today”.  As she serves the meals, she warns me to “watch out, there may still be pellets.”  This instantly becomes my new bar for ordering fresh game.