Skaftafell: Friday 30th June
All good things have to come to an end, and today this is also the case for our eastward progress along the coast. Having had a rather late and fast-becoming-standard buffet breakfast, we filled up with petrol, IKr 5500 approx, Km 710, and did our last bit of eastward motoring to the glacier lagoon “Jokulsarlon” just west of Hof. Icebergs are white on top (with black stripes where they have incorporated volcanic ash) and blue underneath where the water has partly melted them and, I guess, released some of the trapped air. So if you see blue icebergs, they are upside down!
The Jokulsarlon exit to the sea has a sturdy steel bridge with about a 10m clearance below it. The depth of the water in the channel is about 15m, and an iceberg has about 10 times the draught of its height. So only small ones about 2m high can get out to sea, and the main lagoon is like a huge iceberg parking lot. The lagoon itself is about 150m deep at the edge of the glacier, and is actually a fjord which extends under the glacier at sea level for 21Km! There are salmon, trout and herring in the lagoon (according to the guide) and 3 seals. We didn’t see any of these during our IKr 1500 trip on the lake, which we expected to be in a large diesel powered DUKW, but turned out to be in a grey ‘squidgy’ with a 40HP engine, since there were only 4 passengers. We checked a litre-sized cylinder of floating ice at first hand, and found it very clear indeed, to be at least 1000 years old, to be completely tasteless (the lagoon itself was just a little salty) and very cold. We didn’t eat lunch at the touristy cafe, but had a cuppasoup in the car and chatted to an icelandic biker who came and parked next door, having just been on a near-death blast at 220Km/hr. On our other side were two Swedish bikers on his and hers new BMW’s. However, remembering all the gravel roads and snowdrifts, I didn’t envy them at all. The Icelander had 320Km to go to Reykjavik, and we started on the road together, for at least the time it took to go over the steel-plate floored bridge, then he turned up the wick and vanished into the mirage.
We decided to give the Skaftafell national park a miss, but we did take a small diversion to stand on the side of the Svinafellsjokull (the one behind the hotel) and melt a bit of it for good luck. The ice was completely clear once washed clean of the black grit that was on it, and it towered above us as we stood at the side of it - about 500m from the leading edge. The rocks at the side were scratched and worn from passage of the ice and debris therein, and were not at all the usual ones we had seen around Iceland. There was a huge piece of bedrock with scar marks that had green and brown glassy bits in, white veins of calcite and lots of hollow nodules filled with clear crystal needles. Also it had lozenge shaped opalescent stones within it and red and green bits too. It would have been good to bring it home, but it weighed about 1000 tons! Some sheep came to stare at us for a while, silhouetted against the sky (until I got the camera ready to shoot them) and, my pockets loaded with stones, we went back to the car.
After the 30Km of sand desert below the Skeidarjokull were behind us, we turned right onto an un-signposted stone track to drive up an enchanting looking valley called Nupstsadarskogur just east of the huge 2000ft high cliff (yes, it’s 700m a.s.l. at the top and 30m at the bottom) called Lomagnupur, which had been advertised in a colourful flyer at the hotel. This wasn’t a recognised road, and the tour buses weren’t running, so we chickened out at the first rather deep looking river crossing (the bus pictured in the advert with water to the top of its wheels didn’t help) and walked instead to a nearby waterfall and admired the view in this rather romantic setting. Not sure if the hidden people were watching us, but fairly sure the flies were a nuisance when the breeze dropped, we made our way back to the car and drove the rest of the way to Kirkjubaejarklaustur.
The Hotel Edda is next door to the Hotel Kirk..klaustur and is rather run down compared to its new neighbour. But the food is a lot cheaper - a 9” pizza is just £8.50. But it’s just like a cafe. Finding ourselves in splendid room on the first floor of the new hotel, with a river view and every mod con, we checked out the menu for the main hotel and decided to celebrate with main courses costing 2 or 3 pizzas each. Not to mention the starters (another pizza) and the puddings (a pizza and a half between us). Actually, we went mad and had a bottle of Rioja too, so the total bill came to a fiver short of £90. But the seafood soup had plenty of solids, the roast lamb fillet with garlic and tarragon was delish, and the wild goose breasts with port-marinated pear and red berries was wonderful. The chocolate covered strawberries with icecream were also fantastic once prised from the plate. And we had had no lunch!
We staggered a few yards along the road to look at another waterfall, but didn’t go far since R was still wearing her party shoes. Hidden people chased us back to the hotel; two of them were hooded and were outside the hotel, carrying a heavy load. Today was certainly the most gastronomic day of the holiday and perhaps the most relaxed.