So after finishing breakfast, we chatted with Kira, the staff person, while settling our bill. We filled our water bottles with water that didn't smell like rotten eggs, and took the leftover bread for lunch. We decided to re-explore the southern coast where the flooding had been, so we again followed trusty Route 1 east along the coast. We drove through towns and countryside, all quite lovely, but I was struck by how magnificent the north had been. It was so full of drama and spectacular views that this drive felt tame by comparison. Nonetheless, we marveled at the landscape and enjoyed the new, more moderate, climate of the south.
We did notice, however, that everywhere seemed desolate. Even more than usual. Shops weren't open, folks weren't out driving.... "It must be some kind of holiday," we were starting to suspect. So at our next opportunity, we stopped at a tourist information center, which also happened to be a Media Center {One room was full of more than a dozen reporters, all deciding on their next move. Clearly they had all been sent here to report on the volcano, and were running out of story}.
So we went in the tourist center to get the most recent information on the volcano, the roads, and a place to stay in Keflavik. We found out both good and bad news. We got the bad news first, but I'll tell you the good news. Fortunately, the volcano is slowing down, which is great, and the roads have been rebuilt--also great, and they have started sending flights back to Europe, fantastic. Good things, both for us, and the locals. Not so good was the news that the winds had already started to shift, and they feared that by tonight they would be blowing to the west. Not good. This meant there was a chance that our flight would be affected. We were a little concerned, but tried to just be patient and wait and see what happens.
As for the last of our requests, she said, the roads have been rebuilt, but they are not totally finished, and they advice that you use extreme caution and only travel on them if it is totally necessary. Not only are the surfaces rough, but everything has been covered with ash and it is very dangerous. She also gave us the name, number and address for a hostel in Keflavik, and informed us that it was indeed a national holiday today: the first day of summer. Wow. Summer. In Iceland, I can totally see why that would be deemed a holiday.
So we heeded her warnings, but drove on wards towards Vik. We were determined to see how a week had affected the scene at the flood plain, and to see a bit further along the coast. Soon we came upon the site at which we had stopped and explored on our first day. It was quite a different view indeed. Not only were the media trucks and onlookers gone, but so were the glacial chunks and standing pools of water from a week before. Now everything was covered in an inch of snow, changing the landscape altogether. Onward we went, over the bumpy gravel of the new roads, all the while marveling at the dramatic peaks to our left--the mountains surrounding the Mýrdalsjökull glacier.
(What appears to be clouds in this shot is actually the volcanic ash cloud lingering over the peaks.)
(This is the same shot from my Day 1 post. It looks remarkably different now.)
Once on the other side of the once-barricade, we actually got to see the effects of the ash. It was really wild. Everything was covered with it. Houses, cars, and most dramatically, the roads and fields. It turns out that about 70 farms were affected by the ash, and probably 20 were ruined because of it. With a landscape this harsh, and with this much rock, clearing a field is no easy task, so to know that their farms are ruined is quite a tragedy indeed. We read later that night that this ash, called Tephra, though rough in individual texture, is very slippery to walk or drive on, acting just like quicksand. The ash itself isn't fertile, either, so it will take some time before the soil turns again, so most people are hoping to remove the ash completely.
After getting our fill, we turned around and headed back towards paved roads that we knew would be open. We stopped in a few small shops that caught our eye, but soon decided to head to the Blue Lagoon for the afternoon, Bláa Líndið. We followed the signs from the main road, the turn off taking us through a winding road around a volcanic crater and through a lavafield of huge, black sharp chunks of volcanic rock. Weaving our way around, we found ourselves at the front gate. Not too many cars were in the lot, but there were a few tour buses there, too. We paid our entry, got our magnetic entry bracelets, and found our way to the locker room.
The magnetic bracelets are pretty cool, aligning to whatever locker you choose so that you can open and close it easily. They can also be used to charge food and drinks form the cafe so you don't need to have money with you in the lagoon. They also serve as your pass in and out of the subway-like turnstiles to enter the vicinity. Clever. They have really thought of everything. They make the process as streamlined as possible, and also make it as easy as possible for you to spend money there, being that they also have spa services, a hotel, a restaurant, and a gift shop with their full line of beauty products. Good business and marketing.
Anyway, we soaped up and headed into the lagoon. We opted to enter through the indoor tunnel rather than face the cold wind in our bathing suits. You need only climb in the indoor pool, and then make your way through the little underwater door. We emerged through it to the view of a volcanic rock dome, designed as a wind shield for the cold days and a sun shield for the hot ones, no doubt. The walls of the lagoon are lava, having been carved directly into the ground itself and then coated with a protective coating of some kind. The rest of the pool are small inlets, winding pathways, carved underwater benches, a waterfall,saunas and steam rooms. Truly decadent. The lagoon itself is essentially a waist-deep pool of salt and fresh water that hosts a special kind of bacteria and minerals from deep within the earth. The water is between 98-102°F and is supposed to heal all kinds of health problems and skin conditions. We soaked and swam and explored, covering our faces with the silica mud, purported to be very cleansing for the skin. It stings a bit as it dries, but my skin does feel pretty nice a day later! We spent a few luxurious hours there, and then showered off to find a place to eat dinner.
We headed to nearby Gindavik and their only restaurant therein--Salhusik. It is a log cabin building that smells of wood from the moment you open the door. It was striking because much of the country is without trees, and those they do have are often short. As one man even related, his travel guide said, "If you ever get lost in the forest in Iceland,... stand up,... and stop drinking." Ha haha. Perfect. The climate and landscape are too harsh here to support large trees. Consequently, the most common building materials are metal and cement. Anyway, we enjoyed Cod and Halibut served with sir fried vegetables and a baked potato, drizzled with an herbed butter. Yum. Full, relaxed and satisfied, we headed off to find a hostel for the night. What we found instead, being that it was nearly 11 at night and we were tired, was a cute little hotel near the airport at a decent price. Not ideal, but it'll do. So we tucked ourselves in after another adventurous day.
We awoke the next morning, had our breakfast, packed, and got ready for our final day in Iceland. Just before we checked out of the hotel, we decided to quickly just check our airlines bag requirements and all. I surfed the page a bit, scanning a few sections on carry-ons and checked bags... the usual regulations. But when I returned to the home page, and scanned downwards, I saw this: URGENT. Keflavik airport closed. All flights canceled. Hmmmm. That means us. Pulse rate went up. I scanned the page further, just to be sure I was seeing it right. Yup. Our flight was on the list, and we were going to have to board a bus to Akureyri, yes the very same town we had attempted to make once, and finally did make it to a second time, a 5 hour drive away. From there we would board a plane to Glasgow, and a connecting flight home.
Wanting to get information from the horses mouth, we went to the airport, since we were close by, to make our arrangements. It felt really strange to walk through a deserted airport. The only person I saw the first 5 minutes of my exploration, was a camera man, filming the emptiness. I did eventually find the airline's customer service desk, where they booked us on a flight to Glasgow at noon the following day, saying that we would need to catch a bus the next morning at 5am. We raced to Reykjavik, checked into a hostel, and had a tremendous dinner. The staff at the hostel had recommended a nice restaurant called the Sea Baron, which is frequented mostly by local fishermen. When you walk in, on the left there is a cooler with various skewered meat. There were skewers of shrimp, scallops, salmon, halibut, horse, potatoes and minke whale. Ultimately this meant that mom and I were down to 5 choices, and not 7. I'm sure you can understand why. We selected a skewer of shrimp, one of scallops, and one of salmon, in addition to some potatoes and a bowl of their famous lobster soup. It was a delicious meal, especially when complemented with a nice Pilsner. Yum.
Our stomachs full, we headed to our temporary home to be sure that we had packed fully, and that we were rested for our long journey the next day. We set our alarm for 3:45 to assure that we made it to the bus terminal in time to return the car and called it an early night. All of Saturday was spent in transit. We had a 5 1/2 hour bus ride (with a brief break), then 3 hours waiting in line at the tiny Akureyri airport, ill-equiped to handle this load of passengers, then a 2 hour flight to Glasgow, a 1 1/2 hour layover, than a nearly 7 hour flight home. It all worked out in the end, thankfully, but when I got home at 11 Saturday night, I was completely wiped. It took nearly 24 hours for us to make a trip that had taken us 6 hours in the opposite direction. Phew. It feels good to be home.
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