Thursday, July 22
A quick taxi ride—with a shorter, stockier spitting image of Rory W.—brought us to the city airport and our car for the trip, a little Suzuki SUV with four-wheel drive (required in Iceland on all unpaved roads). We were soon out of Reykjavik and rolling toward the interior.
The landscape along the coast looks very much like the Scottish heath, with mottled yellows, browns, and greens—and absolutely no trees. As we soon learned, the major difference consists in the fact that this stuff is growing on a lava field.
We soon began to rise into higher country, with more green (though no more trees). After a half hour or so, we climbed up to a high mountain pass and extraordinary scenery. That’s our little chariot, ready for what comes.
Unfortunately, the photos are going to give a rather pale idea of the landscape: it rained all day! But you do begin to get an idea of the remarkable nature of the rock formations.
The road descended sharply onto the shores of Thingvellatn, the largest natural lake in Iceland. Huge, and ringed with mountains, the lake is the centerpiece of a national park.
Circumnavigating the lake brought us to a place sacred to Icelanders, Thingvellir. This area at the northern end of the lake is revered as the birthplace of the Icelandic nation. It is of real historical interest, but the geological features are probably more interesting to non-Icelanders. The cliffs on the right of this picture are one side of a fissure in which the North American and European tectonic plates are both visible; you can see where the earth is slowly tearing these two formations apart—at a rate of about two centimeters a year.
The jumble of rocks on the left are part of what has fallen away, out of the fissure. The picture below shows how the fissure spread: Thingvellatn Lake is in fact just part of this huge fissure. To give you some idea of the magnitude of the fissure; the bottom of the lake is at places below sea level!
But enough geology. Starting in the eleventh century, the chieftains of the Icelandic tribes gathered here annually to settle disputes and pronounce the laws of the land. The law rock itself, from which the convener declaimed, is rather nondescript, with a walkway just below it. Here it is in all its glory, with the wall of the fissure behind it.
Here it is from the backside.
No matter where you go in Iceland, you are struck by the rushing waters, And this is no exception. The Oxara river plunges over the cliffs, ending in a lovely cascade, and then becomes a braided stream as it flows to the lake.
The drive to our next stop, Geysir, was also lovely. We caught sight of the major volcano in southwest Iceland, Hella, snow covered at over 5000 feet. Our hotel in Geysir, the eponymous Hotel Geysir, was extraordinary: Scandinavian, but with darker wood befitting the volcanic landscape. Since we could walk across the road to the geothermal area that gave the town its name later in the evening, we pushed on to Gullfoss (golden falls). Nothing prepares you for the sight of the falls as you walk across a fairly flat plateau. You are soon exposed to a deafening roar…and then an enormous gorge opens at your feet.
The gorge below the falls is remarkable in itself.
As you can probably tell, the rain was really coming down. Ask us to see Sue’s videos when we return!
After a nice dinner at the hotel, we made it to the geothermal area. The water is heated by magma under the surface, and the water reaches temperatures of 170-200 degrees; a sign cautions that it is 62 kilometers to the nearest hospital.
You encounter a number of hot pots first.
And then a baby geyser that only bubbles along. And finally Stokkur, the one active geyser in the area; it goes off every 5-10 minutes.
Pretty neat.