Iceland car rental can be quite expensive, and while visiting the country without a car is do-able—with a nearly endless list of day trips and multi-day excursions taking you to all corners—however that then becomes extremely expensive, so car rental with a group is the best bet. I met up with another solo-traveller, Sergey from Saint Petersburg, Russia, who was keen to divide the cost of a rental and spend a week travelling. He also knew another Aussie from earlier travels who happened to be here for the weekend with a bunch of Kiwi/Aussie ex-pats living in London, as well as a few Brits which totalled 12 people. They had two spare seats in one of their cars, so we were able to tag along and visit the main sites, on the cheap, in the short weekend they were here. The most popular tour in Iceland is The Golden Circle, made up of a trip through a geothermal area with the Strokkur geyser, a visit to Gullfoss (Golden Falls) on the river Hvítá, and a trip through Þingvellir National Park, where the American and Eurasian tectonic plates meet, allowing you to trek across continents, and disappear into a 7 kilometre wide dead-mans-land. We also made a trip to Vík on the southern tip of Iceland, arriving at night the following day, making stops along the way at Seljalandsfoss falls, Skógafoss (Forest Falls) and Kirkjufjara, a volcanic black sand beach. Driving through Þingvellir National Park was fantastic, and it was great leaving the civilisation of Reykjavik. From the alien surrounds of Icelandic countryside, looking at the morning moon, it was too easy to fall into the idea we were in a completely different star system, looking out to any planet or moon—certainly far from Earth.
The Geyser was what I had expected, but still something that had to be seen. The smell however, was not what I was expecting — it was nothing like RotoVegas, and was quite pleasant comparatively. Getting there from the carpark was a small challenge, the continual stream of steam almost immediately freezes in the air, leaving inches of clear, slippery ice in a large area surrounding the hot spots. But first we created a now-patented sandwich assembly line, consisting of 7 specialists, each with an area of expertise. Best sandwiches ever, but enough mustard to kill us all. There were ingredients included which were flown from all corners of the globe, whatever we brought in person. We then made it to the main Geyser, and watching all the different techniques of tourist photographers was quite a laugh, most in an uncomfortable pose, with their shot held perfectly framed for several minutes on end like statues, far to early for the 5-8 minute intervalled show. I was lucky with the tripod and wide angle, and managed to get quite a few neat shots with my remote trigger.
We then continued round the circle to Gullfoss (Golden Falls), which was unbelievably cold and windy. Only the Russian and I made it out of the carpark, with the rest of the gang making a b-line for the Cafe for beers. People were being blown over; hats and scarves lost, and I was worried my camera and tripod were going to take off like a kite. Cleaning the lens was futile, so unfortunately a lot of the photos came out a bit rough. When we got back to the carpark we saw a massive specially modified 10-wheeler had pulled up, and it looked perfectly at home.
That rounded up the day trip, but we were able to stop off at a fence line along Route 1 and watch a team of horsies from afar. They came trotting over, nuzzled up against us and said hello. I was surprised, but this ended up being the highlight of the day. Somehow there were pieces of apple buried just beneath the fresh snow (explaining their friendliness), so the couple of us that braved the cold were able to give them a bit of a snack. The horses were profound, beautiful creatures, with deep spiritually captivating eyes, leading to a familiarity I haven't quite understood while of sane mind, perfect in the quiet Icelandic terrain. I managed to get a couple pictures of cuddles and horsing around, but they didn't turn out as crisp. We hit the road again, which quickly became quite hairy in parts, with very minimal visibility as a snow storm rolled through. At one point the tires dipped slightly off-road into the snow bank, which quickly triggered hilarious flashbacks of terrifying car-wash's experienced as a child, with chaos enveloping the entire 4WD. We made it back however, around sunset, with about 4 minutes spare to make a dash to the bottle-o, the seven of us making two trips each to lug all the beer back to the car. And at 351 ISK a 500ml can ($3.50NZD), we had to make sure we began drinking as soon as we had the receipt in-hand (bar the drivers) to ease the financial pain.
After probably the 4th or 6th straight night of intense drinking, and very little sleep, we started out quite late the next day, once the drivers in particular could sober up completely, and we could make sure there were enough $0.60 energy drinks (the only cheap thing in Iceland!) to go around. We headed in the opposite direction this time out of Reykjavik, en route to Vík, essentially the most southern part of Iceland. We were light one person on day 2, so the sandwich assembly line was ruined. Luckily there were enough Kiwi's and Aussies on-board to crowd source a bit of No.8 wire thinking in the snack department, and with me there to translate between Bro and Mate as the Kiwi/Aussie translator, it all went smoothly. There was a lot of sleeping in the car in that morning...
We didn't have a game plan at all, and were lucky to hit most of the main stops. The first being Seljalandsfoss, a fantastic waterfall tucked away a tiny distance from Route 1. You're even able to walk behind the waterfall and watch the sunset, but in Winter it's impossible without ice cleats. I'm actually heading back here with gear, so that'll be something to look forward to. We also managed to get a couple great photos of the full group including Car #2, which rounded this off as a great first stop.
The stretch of road between Seljalandsfoss and Skógafoss (Forest Falls), was completely different again. Full of interesting volcanic peaks, intense contrast between the rich brown grass and light blue skies. None of the colour in these photos varies from what we could see in person. We reached Skógafoss at the most perfect time, with the sun starting to disappear behind some of the mountain peaks we had just passed. Looking back, after a short hike uphill, I grabbed this photo — another one of my favourites so far:
There was a great, but strenuous jaunt (in our condition) up to the top of the falls. At the top we were able to go off track a bit and within a few metres disappear completely into the landscape. Sergey and I managed a couple neat selfies and then we made the easier walk back down. There were another handful of Icelandic Horses, whom like their friends from the previous day came to meet us at the fence line. The rest of the group retreated to the beer-source, and I set up my tripod. While taking the shot with me in it, the horse out of frame gave my lens cap a toothy nibble, knocking it over, looking rather pleased with itself. Silly horsies.
Now, there is an excellent reason why despite being lost in the most beautiful landscape, I only have a few remaining photos of the day, which I'll get to... We stopped off next on a fluke to Kirkjufjara, a volcanic black sand beach. I stood on the southern point, with a compass in hand, trying to visualise the perfectly straight line that would take you across only ocean to meet the South Pole in Antarctica. Again, it was a crazy and profound moment, which soon led to some perfectly terrible judgement... However it brought me back to one of my favourite songs from Bon Iver: Holocene, which happens to have an awesome music video, which was shot in Iceland... ♫♫ I could see for miles, miles, miles.
I sat for some time watching the waves roll in, seeing the set waves, and the larger waves, and felt safer to move closer to the cliff edge. By this time the group had moved further around the coast, out of earshot, but were still visible. I set up my tripod as night began its journey, and sat peacefully despite the chaotic crashing below. That's when I heard the most thunderous, consuming roar. I recall turning slightly, seeing black, and being picked up by a towering column of water that dwarfed me by at least 2 metres. I was firmly braced, but I just crumbled. I was dragged, dumped and then pinned near the cliff face, twisted in a few well placed rocks. Soaked through completely, bleeding, dangling above death below. I must have switched into survival mode, I remember hearing the guys (who thought they just saw me die) yelling from afar. I walked, shaking back to the car, stripped off, and realised what happened. My camera was done and dusted, salt water just ripped through it. The lens survived (the expensive bit), but the electronics were toast. Only my hands were gashed, with my body getting what looked like gravel rash through the thick layers, and luckily I walked away without adding concussion number 6 ...or 7. That considered, I was really quite pleased with the whole ordeal. We continued on, and for the rest of the night I was sporting some real NZ beach wear... soaked underwear (undies, undies, undies, togs) and an Icelandic wool jumper is what my outfit entailed. The locals were quite puzzled when we soon arrived in Vík, on a more colder night, seeing this strange bearded foreigner wearing close to nothing.
In complete dark out, we left Vík, and headed back to Reykjavik, full with a handful of famous hotdogs, with hopes of spotting the Northern Lights. Which we did. My phone survived, so I was keeping up to date with the Aurora forecast, keeping a keen eye on the sky. I managed to spot them, but it took some convincing for us to stop so I could prove they weren't just clouds. We got a couple shots, which glowed incandescently green thanks to the long exposure of the cameras sensor (from all cameras but mine), before continuing down the road. That's when I spotted the lights directly above, in full bodied green, dancing — you could almost hear them like heavenly windchimes. We all piled out of the 4WD (me wearing just about nothing), no shoes, in what would have been -25°C with windchill. There were 5 or 6 visible columns that stretched out like fingers across from the southern ocean on the horizon, towered above us, and hit the opposite horizon. We were jumping around like giddy idiots at this point, like 2 year olds discovering the magic of bubbles. Soon I realised I began feeling quite warm, which scared the hell out of me, so I jumped back in the car and set the heat to roaring. We watched the lights for probably half an hour, opened the box of beers, and trucked back to Reykjavik. I'll never forgot walking in just underwear through downtown Reykjavik in a snow storm, nor will quite a few locals I'm sure.
I recall seeing 1:40 am as I hopped out of the shower, put on some new clothes and joined the group exploring in Reykjaviks crazy-awesome nightlife. I felt alive. These were definitely the greatest days I've had so far in my life, 16769 kilometres from home, in the most wonderful place in the world.
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