There was a metal squeezy tube of caviar laid casually on the table for breakfast – this is a super-shmancy hotel! An American lady was in the bar being all 80’s yuppy on a work call at 8am. She mentioned lobbying qualifications in various states (yes I was listening deliberately to see what she did!) so I think she was in marketing of some sort.
After checking out, we went for a little wander around the piers. We saw lots of shy wading bird with red legs (redshank?) and while I was trying to point out some workmen really high up on the mountain, I caught sight of a pair of gerfalcons playing together with some amazing aerial acrobatics. Wonderful! No idea what the workmen on the cliffs were doing though…
I read all the information boards (of course) and learnt about the herring trade that made Sigulfjordur famous for over 60 years. In fish alone they contributed 20% of 40% of the GDP of Iceland. Of course they got greedy, experienced manmade and natural disasters, and the industry collapsed. They massively over-fished the herring (with the help of the Norwegians and Russians) and one year the shoals just didn’t appear. No fish, no town. Just before the fish stopped coming, an enterprising family had built a state of the art canning factory which employed loads of local people. Sadly a landslide destroyed the factory and killed 8 people. They did rebuild, but ended up moving to Norway. It goes without saying that the rest of the family got bored half way through the information boards of herring facts and so have employed me to summarise. I take no responsibility for factual inaccuracies or artistic license!
Our journey around the north coast of the Trollaskagi peninsular was epic: a short tunnel followed by stunning coastal views, and a herd of goats running towards us on the road. We weren’t sure whether they had escaped or were doing their normal morning commute! I was looking forward to the swimming pool in Hofsos, which overlooks the fjord, but when we arrived it looked like any other outdoor swimming pool and we were right on time so we didn’t bother. We saw massive crews of eider ducks chilling in the water just off the coast all the way round.
The turf houses at Glaumbaer felt a bit culty with men and women sleeping separately but two to a bed… it was a fascinating insight into unheated life! Mila and I are all about the kitchen implements: excellent whisk, milk churns, bread boxes and a special bread knife that they used to cut rhubarb (direct quote from the sign!), whale bone sledges and horse hair bridles.
We had an Ob burger lunch deal, along with rest of north Iceland, and then continued our journey south. We bought picnic tea for after the hike and swim later.
After about another hour of driving down VERY windy roads that left Keith super tired, we arrived at the hotel that Fosshotels forgot. The rooms were massive but meh, with the sole redeeming feature being the fridge. The nice lady at reception said it was fine to arrange packed breakfast for our volcano hike the next day as we would have to leave before breakfast started.
On the way to Husafel for our hike and hot bath experience, we saw an incredible double rainbow that meant numerous photo stops.
After waiting 15 minutes for a Spanish couple who couldn’t decide if they were joining us for the canyon hike, we set off with our guide Oli (real name truly unpronounceable) driving extremely slowly whilst providing a detailed history of the local area: they generate 2MW from hydro power, and the whole community’s hot and cold water is drawn from the ground but would be enough to supply 500,000 people! Before the swish hotel that was built by a local family, only 2 out of 25 of Oli’s school class stayed to work in the area. Now lots of families have moved back and 500 work in the hotel or in related tourism.
After about 10 minutes in the mini bus on main roads, Oli turned off onto a track leading up into Whale-Fell-Woods, which was a very old volcano. We parked and Oli gave is the choice of going to look at the waterfall first or hiking straight to the canyon. We chose the waterfall, to the groans of the children, and I started Strava to log our walk as normal. We climbed out of the mini bus and Oli checked that the Spanish couple understood what he had been saying.
They hadn’t got a word and had no idea what he was now trying to tell them! I bet they were glad they had paid for the tour! He led us right off the main path round two corners and down a slightly slippery slope to a viewing platform, from which we could see the waterfall. It was quite tall and pretty and landed in a bowl that was broken so it flowed out under the lintel.
He then asked if we were ready to hike to the baths. We all said yes with enthusiasm (apart from the Spanish couple who still looked confused!) and we set off. We went back past the mini bus and collected our towels and took another path. I was ready for our hike and felt well prepared. We went around two twists of the path and came across a gate. Oli proudly announced that we had reaches the canyon! Strava was disgusted to report that the whole “hike” was 1.25km. We climbed down 63 steps (Mila counted them!) and walked to a beautiful bathing area.
Oli explained that a local stone mason had created the two pools: one was a copy of a much older pool in Reykholt with a pattern of stones tightly fitting around it and one was more roughly hewn. They were approximately the same temperature and there was another horse shoe shaped pool in the river where the outflow from the hot pools flows back into the river. That didn’t have much effect as the water still felt icy cold!
The Spanish couple claimed the top (crafted) pool and we slid into the rough hewn one. The rocks were covered in soft slippery green stuff so you had to be careful not to slip. The floor was also pretty rough so stubbed toes were a probability if you weren’t careful. While we were marinating, Oli explained some of the rock formations in the canyon: rhyolite, obsidian and one we can’t quite remember the name of: maybe impervite? He apologised to the Spanish couple for not being able to repeat himself in Spanish.
Oli then left us in peace to soak. Danny was a massive fidget but made us laugh, I went for a chilly dip in the river with Mila (who only got in up to the knee!) and then requested a swap with the Spanish couple to try the top pool. That was a mistake, there were no slippery rocks to sit on and it felt cooler. There was moaning, but we made the best of it!
In no time, Oli was back to get us moving and we headed for the warm shower and the heat lamps in the changing rooms- which each had their own geology shelf!! Then it was the exhausting hike back to the mini bus and some more commentary on the way back. Oli told us about the ancient lava flow down the valley and the lava flows he had been to see last year. He repeated what other people have told us about old lava flows staying hot for a very long time. He said that the last eruption in the region (1973) had warmed people’s houses for 25 years and even now was still hot enough to bake bread in. He warned us to be careful tomorrow as the weight of the new lava was causing the liquid lava inside the old flows to be squeezed out and was very dangerous. We promised to be careful!!
We went back to the hotel for a picnic tea of pot noodles, bread and cheese, yoghurts, Giflar and Police Interceptors. Having repacked absolutely everything to allow a painless transition to a carless state tomorrow afternoon, it was time for bed again!