I am now back from my second international trip of the year. It was a good deal less stressful than the previous one, since I did not have to make any of the travel and accommodation arrangements on my own and also since the requirement for COVID testing upon returning to the U.S. has been lifted. Indeed, although I brought a copy of my vaccination card, it turned out to be unnecessary; no one asked to look at it. Even though the test requirement was waived, I took a COVID test on my own during the last evening of my stay. As with the Ireland/England trip, I had been eating in restaurants and coming in close contact with people in groups much more frequently than I have been doing at home during the pandemic and I wanted some reassurance that I had not picked up any contagion. The results, happily, were negative.
Iceland as a whole seems quite confident about its ability to cope with the prevalence of COVID. No one wears masks anywhere, even in the airport. About 77% of the entire population is fully vaccinated and over 80% of all residents five years and older are fully vaccinated. Its mortality rate at this point is less than 0.05%. Hospitalizations have gone up slightly in the past two weeks, but the number is still fairly insignificant and none of the patients are in an ICU.
Iceland is a prosperous country. It was not always so; in the 19th century it was one of the poorest regions in Europe. But it has many natural advantages, including an abundance of renewable energy from hydro-power and geothermal-power. To be sure, it is not rich in mineral wealth, and tourism, which after all is a very volatile source of income, accounts for more than 33% of its GDP. But the roads are for most part excellent and the grocery stores, even the most rudimentary ones, are invariably well-stocked. As is the case with so many island nations, it must import a substantial amount of its food. One can dine very well in Iceland, but not economically. Many young people from other nations attempt to find temporary employment in Iceland, where the wages are higher than they are in most other European countries.
The architecture for the most part is uninspiring. Houses and office buildings alike have a depressing box-like construction and they are frequently painted in bright but crude colors. Reykjavik is a sufficiently pleasant city, but I did not see a single building in it that impressed me with its beauty of form.
The Icelanders are both courteous and efficient, but they are considerably more reserved than, for example, the Irish or even than the British. They tend to look down upon loud behavior and in particular, despite their reputation for drinking heavily, upon any public displays of drunkenness. All of which makes for very pleasant conditions when walking along the streets in the nation: one is much less likely to be confronted by someone overcome with liquor or drugs than in any American city. The Icelanders also appear to pamper their dogs much less than the Americans or the British do. Only once were we accosted by a dog without a leash during eight days of hiking, and the owner lost no time in reining it in once she saw it approaching us.
The landscape, as will appear when I describe the hikes in more detail, has a strange kind of spare, stark beauty, in sharp contrast to the luxurious profusion of the forests of the Eastern states in the U.S. Even in suburban Fairfax I was struck upon my return by the leafy canopy along the residential streets. Fireflies were flitting about during the evening of my return, which is a common sight in the area at this time of year; but they seemed quite exotic after my spending more than a week in an area that has few insects of any kind. In many parts of the island the view is treeless as far as the eye can see; snow-capped mountains are visible from even the flattest and lowest areas of the country. Many areas are barren, with hardly any grass or even any moss. Some areas are densely covered with lupines, but outside of these not many flowers grow in the wild. The area close the Keflavik, where the airport is located, for the most part consists of bare lava fields and some of the regions we penetrated during our hikes resembled a moonscape. I would not care to live in such an environment but there is no question that the variety of rock formations and cliffs and shorelines make it a fascinating place to explore.
6/18 – Geldingadalir, 6 miles, 1200’ elevation
The flight was reasonably comfortable, although Icelandair is very much a no-frills airline, serving no food unless passengers elect to purchase it, and even dispensing with the customary demonstrations of safety equipment, presumably because the operators realize that no one pays any attention to them.
We drove to the hotel in rental vans. I was the designated driver for one of these. After we left our luggage at the hotel (it was far too early to check in), two of my passengers and I took a hike about 40 minutes from Keflavik in the vicinity of a volcano that erupted just one year ago. Even the areas where the lava flow did not reach were devoid of vegetation. Eventually we arrived at a plateau that provided a 360-degree view of the various ranges. Steam emanated for portions of the lava field. Parts of it were a pale yellow on account of the sulfur content. It was very windy on the plateau – our first intimation of the gales that are a continual feature of the island’s climate.
Afterwards we went to Reykjavik, by far the largest city in the nation. The city alone accounts for over a third of the country’s population, while the greater metropolitan area contains nearly 63%. As may be imagined, that does not leave many people to inhabit other urban areas. Akureyri, the largest community outside of the greater Reykjavik area, has a population of less than 20,000. Despite its limited architectural interest, Reykjavik is a pleasing place to visit, being very clean (it is said to be one of the cleanest cities in the world), with an abundance of shops and restaurants both along the old harbor and around the Austurvöllur, a large park built around a public square that contains buildings of public interest, such as the Parliament House and the Dómkirkjan, the oldest church of the city.
6/19, Glymur, 5 miles, 1200’ elevation
Until recently Glymur had the reputation of being the highest waterfall in Iceland. In 2007, however, another waterfall called Morsárfoss was discovered within a glacier and it is about 100 feet higher. Nonetheless, it is a beautiful sight. It is reached by traversing fields of lupines, threading one’s way through a cave, and then crossing a river to reach an immense canyon whose rocky walls are covered with moss. It contains numerous colonies of fulmars. These birds resemble gulls but are not, in fact, closely related and are actually a type of petrel. They nest on cliffs and keep their eggs on shallow depressions on rock, sometimes lined with plant material.
As we came to the side of the canyon we went upward, continually pausing to view the waterfall at different points from its base to its summit. On occasion chains were embedded in the rockface alongside the path to aid hikers in ascending. On the whole, however, it was not unusually steep.
After reaching the summit above the waterfall itself we descended back to the stream, which we had to cross a second time, this time using water shoes since the stream was wide and the water flow rapid. It was not very deep in most places but it was cold and we made haste to complete the crossing as quickly as we could. From there we descended along the south side of the canyon, with many views of the valley below.
It was rather cloudy and damp that day and unfortunately the rainfall increased during the afternoon. We had intended to do another hike in the Akranes area, but first we went to Akranes itself and soaked in the hot pool there just beside the beach. The hot water felt very soothing after the hike; but, alas, the rain did not cease to fall and in the end we had to dispense with the other hike on which we had originally planned.
6/20, Seljalandsfoss/Skógafoss, 12 miles, 2000’ elevation
This time the weather was much more favorable, actually becoming sunny and relatively warm as we progressed. We first stopped at Seljalandsfoss, which is a popular tourist attraction because it is possible to walk behind the waterfall as well as in front of it. It was very crowded when we arrived, so we decided to go on to Skógafoss instead and return to Seljalandsfoss later, when the bus tours were less likely to stop. This turned out to be a wise decision. Skógafoss is also a popular spot, the waterfall being about the same height (they both have a drop of approximately 200 feet) but it is wider and more powerful. Most people are content with taking the staircase to an observation post at the top so that they can view the waterfall from below. However, this ascent is only the beginning of one of the most famous hiking paths in Iceland, the Fimmvörðuháls pass. It is 22 kilometers (about 14 miles) long; we obviously did not have time to go there and back for the entire length of the trail, but we did go about 4½ in each direction, up to a bridge that crosses the stream onto an extensive plateau.
Along the way are numerous waterfalls (about 25 in all), with far lower drops than Skógafoss itself but arguably even more scenic, many of them framed by the walls of the gorge of either side. Many of them shimmered with rainbows. We were pausing every few hundred feet to take photos. After we reached the bridge, the descent was much quicker, since we already took photos of nearly every waterfall we had passed (although in some cases we stopped to take a few facing in the other direction).
From there we went to a swimming pool heated by a natural hot-water spring. It was very enjoyable, although it would not have been possible to have such a pool in the U.S.: the water was not chlorinated and the surface of the pool’s floor was covered with slime. The Icelanders, however, are much less fussy in such matters than we are; and as we saw several of them enjoying the warm waters of the pool we imitated their example and found it very refreshing after the 9 miles we had done at the Fimmvörðuháls pass, along with the additional mile from the parking area to the pool itself.
After our swim we returned to Seljalandsfoss, which was indeed less crowded than before. It is possible to walk behind it, since it falls in front of a cave. Another waterfall, Gljúfrabúi, is located at about a ten-minute walk from Seljalandsfoss. It is hidden by a cliff and a stream, the Gljúfurá, runs through a cleft in the cliff. So one must wade a bit to reach it, but it is worth the effort; the waterfall tumbles in front of a great boulder, the sky opens up above, and a continual mist hovers about the pool at the base, reflecting the glints of sunlight.
6/21, Reykjadalur, 10 miles, 2000’ elevation
Reykjadalur contains the so-called “Hot River,” a stream in which geothermal heat makes it as warm as a hot bath. It was quite cool and wet when we arrived, and since there was a bus-load of other hikers right at our heels, we decided to hike elsewhere until it became less crowded. We went on one brief loop and then, when we returned, found it still crowded. So we went on a second, longer loop – putative loop, I should say, for the trail proved to lead away from the point at which we wished to return, and in the end we were forced to backtrack. The weather was steadily worsening and the trails were very muddy. When we finally arrived back at the hot stream I said that it would be misery, after going into the warm water, to put our sodden clothes back on again and then continue over 2 miles back to the parking area. The others agreed and so we passed by the bathing area for the purpose of returning as quickly as we could. The wind increased in velocity, the rain lashed out continually, and all in all it was rather a relief to get back to the lodge at the parking area. The lodge was a pleasant place to linger and to have a hot drink, but outside of that the hike was not enjoyable. I took very few photos that day, for although we went through scenery that under other circumstances would have been impressive to look out, most of the time on this hike everything was shrouded in mist and fog.
6/22, Hengill, 9 miles, 2300’
This day was also cool and damp, but we did not encounter any heavy rain and on occasion the skies cleared. Hengill is an active volcano, even though it has not erupted for 2000 years. But lava is close to the surface, and at one point we came to a stream whose temperature was literally close to boiling, with steam continually hissing from gaps in the rockbed. The geothermal heat is actually a significant source of energy, and the parking area at the trailhead is next door to a power plant built to harness the heat. The trail does not appear to be much used. We were the only hikers on it for the entire day except at the very end, when we saw two hikers just beginning their hike from the parking area just as we were returning to it. The hike supplied many dramatic views of the Reykjadalur valley, although the photos I took of it were somewhat disappointing – the grayish skies and low-hanging clouds made the view seem almost depressing, which in fact was not the case.
Nonetheless I could have wished to spend more time in the area. We had a hike of reasonable length and elevation but we had to ensure that we ended in good time because our group had made an arrangement to spend the evening at the Blue Lagoon. And, in fact, we ended well before the time appointed, so we stopped at a bar along the way. It was a comfortable place, with several games provided in the sitting area. JK and MP played darts together, while I eventually got involved in a game of chess with one of the other customers. I have played chess on the computer from time to time, but it is many years since I played a game with another person. I won the game, so I was pleased to find that my proficiency had not fallen entirely into disuse.
And what was it like, this far-famed Blue Lagoon? Was it “one of the 25 wonders of the world,” as its website claims? Truth to tell, no. It is a large geothermal spa and the milky blue color of the water comes from the high amount of silica it contains. Although it is called a lagoon, it is in fact man-made and the water is a byproduct from a nearby power plant. The waters are said to have a beneficial effect on people afflicted with psoriasis. Apart from that, it is difficult to see how it obtained its reputation. The water is rather tepid in most areas; it was only by determinedly searching out the pumps that feed the hot water into the pool that I found water warm enough for my preference. The spa provides a drink and a certain amount of silica-based facial cream as part of its package; at one point one can stand underneath a pleasingly hot waterfall and at another one can enter a sauna – but all in all, it seemed rather an overpriced method of obtaining a hot bath out of doors, particularly as we were staying at a hotel with a pool of its own in which the water was heated to over 100 degrees Fahrenheit.
6/23, Black Sands Beach area, 9 miles, 600’ elevation
This day we did three little hikes, none of them strenuous, but all of them rewarding:
1. Dyrhólaey peninsula
This promenade offers a variety of views both of unique coastal rock formations and of colonies of wildlife. We saw a few puffins at close range, as well as numerous fulmars and kittiwakes. The walkway goes up to the lighthouse, at which point we can see many points of vantage to view the seashore below.
2. Reynisfjara Beach
This beach is the well-known black sand beach. The sand grains are rather large. In other parts of the beach the shoreline consists of small rocks, rounded and smoothed as if they had been polished. We first walked to indentations in the rock wall to the south, one of them lined with hexagonal basalt columns. We had to conclude this part of the walk quickly, for the tide was coming in, and it has swept people out to sea on numerous occasions. Then we went all the way north to the base of the first overlook of Dyrhólaey before going back. The beach skirted by a lagoon towards the far end, and many bird colonies were lodged in the rock wall on its far side.
3. Solheimajokull Glacier
Another there-and-back walk, going to the edge of a glacier, with its chiseled appearance and odd blue-green tints. We could not go on the glacier itself, which requires special equipment (crampons, a helmet, and a harness) but we were able to get all the way to its surface where it reached the path.
6/24, Rainbow Mountains, 9½ miles, 2300’ elevation
Iceland certainly has no shortage of beautiful hikes. Geldingadalir provided unique views of an area recently overflowing with lava; Glymur was characterized not only by the waterfall itself but the dramatic views of the canyon that enclosed it; Skógafoss and the waterfalls that dotted the Fimmvörðuháls pass were a perpetual delight; Hengill offered exciting vistas of mountain ranges and of a river heated to the point of steaming; the rock formations along Dyrhólaey and Reynisfjara were like none others that I have ever seen. Each of these would have justified taking an airplane trip across the ocean to experience.
But the hike in the Rainbow Mountains was by far the best of all. There is nothing quite like it. The mountain jut up from a flat area without any preliminary rise and many of the peaks are colored with green, orange, red, yellow, and black belts, owing to the different minerals in the soil and also the degree to which the surface has been heated by the geothermal activity below. In many areas clouds of steam are perpetually emerging from large fissures. Numerous little lakes of a peculiar glassy silvery blue color are nestled among the mountain roots. Snowfields spread over the tops of the high plateaus. In some parts of the trail appear almost golden on account of the reflected sunlight.
Our hike first led us to the top of one peak, where we lingered to take in the 360-hike – not for very long, though, for the wind was very severe at this elevation. We went down again and continued along to another, gentler ascent to a plateau. At this point we had to turn from the main trail (which extends for miles from the campsite at the base) and take another trail, much less well-marked. We went along several snowfields, frequently consulting GPS to find our way, since the trail markers were sparse in this area. Eventually we descended along a “knife-edge” until we met with the trail to another peak. We were not certain whether we could descend on the other side back to the camp or whether we would have to backtrack, but we took the risk and went up. On the way I encountered two guides monitoring the trails and they confirmed, after I questioned them, that indeed we could get back to the campsite that way and indeed it was the quickest way to do so. So we stopped at the summit to enjoy another 360-view and then went down.
We were relatively fortunate in our weather. It was quite cool and very windy at times, but there was no rain and from time to time we had clear skies.
6/25, Móskarðshnjúkar/Thingvellir, 9 miles, 2600’ elevation
The last hike of the trip was also a wonderful hike, although it seemed slightly anti-climactic after the hike in the Rainbow Mountains – and indeed that hike can scarcely be surpassed. But it was impressive all the same, steadily ascending to a ridgeline and then to a high peak, with many views of the lowlands, including birds-eye views of Reykjavik in the distance. I had expected, from the description, that we would be doing a good deal of bushwhacking. But the hike was quite straightforward. We followed a well-defined trail all the way to the summit. Then we descended down the other side to an old, disused road; there was no trail per se, but after going down a brief distance the road was clearly visible and it was not difficult to reach. The road eventually led back to meet the main trail a short distance from the parking area.
When we came to the parking area it was empty and we assumed that the hike was not well-known. However, when we returned over a dozen more cars were parked there. We had merely gotten an earlier start than the others.
This circuit was only five miles long, so we drove down the road briefly to Thingvellir National Park. This park contains points of both scenic and historic interest. It is one of the only places in the world where it is possible to walk through two tectonic plates. The continental drift between the North American and Eurasian Plates can be clearly seen in the cracks or faults which traverse the region. Going through the largest of these is like going through a canyon.
Historically, it was the site of the Althing, the open-air assembly first held in 930 that functioned as Iceland’s parliament. Iceland did not have a king during the earliest period of its history. The Althing did not have much in the way of executive power to enforce the laws, but it was the only institution that the country had to provide any kind of centralized government. The assembly was a festival as well as a national gathering of lawmakers, where people exchanged news and gossip, and met up with old friends. Women attended this festival as freely as the men, and sometimes marriages were arranged there.
It is pleasant place to stroll about and a good way to wind down after a week of intense hiking. It is much greener than the other parts of Iceland we had seen, with an abundance of grassy meadow and even some scattered groves of trees. It contains a couple of waterfalls and there are paths that go along the shore of a lake, on which many large geese were swimming. The day was clear and sunny and somewhat warmer than most of the days we had hiked earlier in the week.
We departed on the following day. I can praise the Keflavik airport only circumspectly. It is clearly not large enough for the amount of traffic it handles – rather like the Dublin airport in this respect. The areas where the passengers waited before boarding, to be sure, had many interesting stores and restaurants and they were very clean. All was well once passengers could seat themselves and the plane actually began moving. The flight was smooth and arrived more or less on time, and the line at Customs was passed through with surprising speed. There were no flaws of any note except in the boarding process; but there the deficiency was considerable. Notifications of gate assignments for various flights were given just minutes before the boarding process itself, barely allowing passengers sufficient time to pass the security check of their passports. The lines for the various airplane gates were not clearly demarcated and they are in close proximity with one another, so that it was easy to wait in a line only to find out, as one approaches the gate entrance, that one has been standing in a line for the wrong gate. In addition, there was a delay in boarding, a delay in admitting us to the causeway to the airplane once the boarding process began, and another delay in allowing passengers to move from the causeway into the airplane itself. Standing in a narrow enclosed elevated causeway with dozens of other people for several minutes on end while waiting to be admitted into an airplane whose doors are only a few feet distant is not the most pleasant way to begin a flight.