We were up early with the intention of being first into breakfast and then heading back to the beach for some tourist-free photos but when we got up, Keith spotted 3 coaches outside reception and switched the plan to go to the beach first.
It turned put to be a good plan. The roads were deserted; there were 4 cars in the car park and 3 people on the beach. The weather was awful over the top, but was clear when we arrived, showing us the puffin-filled headland on the other side of the bay (maybe 5km away) that had not been visible yesterday.
The tide was a little lower, so we could comfortably walk around the outcrop and along the top of the beach towards the famous stacks (cave, arch, stack, stump, gone!). I was under instruction to collect a sand/pebble sample and had a container with me in preparation. The puffins and fulmars flew overhead, to and from the cliffs, but the arctic skuas were nowhere to be seen. The waves felt bigger today, but we only had one moment where we had to step backwards sharpish to avoid the encroaching water. It was interesting to see the wave get slightly closer today as it was pushing the tiny pebbles up the beach on the front of the wave.
Photos taken, the weather started to come in again. So we fled back to the car and went back to the apartment to hang up the wet gear while we grazed at the breakfast buffet. No surprises this morning, just tasty food.
We needed petrol, so we headed there before we set off. There is another beach (or possibly a continuation of the one we were on yesterday) behind the shopping area, so went for a wander while the children rested after their early start. The waves weren’t quite as terrifying because of the breakwater taking much of their force. I found some very curious, unidentifiable, brown rocks. I crouched right down to have a good look. Then I noticed the scraps of straw on the beach and the big signs offering horseback rides. I quietly left the brown rocks alone. There were similar numbers of tourists and flies, so we didn’t stay long.
Our first official stop of the day was Hjorleifshofio: a 200m high ex-island that has been surrounded by glacial gravel when eruptions caused floods careying enormous amounts of sediment causing the coastline to expand by 15km. We drove round the base to a sea cave on the south face. Our dose of surreal for the day was the pair setting up for a wedding inside the dark, drippy cave. Good job it is too cold for bats! Keith managed to get a photo of the sillouette of the cave mouth, famous for resembling a film character (answers on a postcard please!) and we carried on along the track. We were not convinced it was actually a road as the gravel was pretty deep, but it was marked on the map and Keith had confidence in the power of the Santa Fe.
All around the cliffs, we could see birds perching (fulmars mostly) and I guessed puffins had used it in the past as well, but it was too far from the shoreline now. Mila had her best wildlife searching eyes on and got Keith to stop so we could all see the arctic fox desperately trying to hide itself from us in a bush. It still had quite a lot of white in its fur so was easy to spot whilst moving. Needless to say, we got very excited and Keith sent Danny into the boot to retrieve the long telephoto lens and take photos. It travelled up the vegetation covered scree slope at the base of the cliff and settled in a dip that looked like a familiar resting place. Such a treat and not one I expected to be honest. Another thing to tick off the wish list! Normally stopping on a road without a designated stopping place for any reason is breaking the law in Iceland but in such circumstances, on a road that might not be a road, with no humans in sight, it felt justified!
The “road” did continue, but as it was across an unknown river, we decided discretion was the better part of valour and went the long way round back to the tarmac and eventually route 1. The ring road took us through some really strange features today: an enormous glacial outwash; Alftaversgigar – rootless cones (pseudo-craters); and breath taking views of Katla and Kotlujokull. The pseudo-craters really do look like miniature volcanos and were apparently formed by lava flowing over water. The weird thing is that you drive along and there aren’t any, then there are loads, then there are none. They aren’t scattered haphazardly, but formed only where conditions are perfect. It makes sense geologically, but feels like a museum exhibition as you drive from one area (complete with explanatory sign in the parking area) to another.
We kept driving along route 1 and stopped wherever the fancy took us. The next place was a viewing point for Skeioararjokull – yet another tongue of the enormous Vatnajokull. It was a privately owned service station, with toilets you had to pay for with a credit card. I had to teach an American lady how to use them. I literally had to translate the ENGLISH on the instuction board for her. Perhaps I am being unkind and she couldn’t read. I saw a strange coloured skua and had to refer to Uncle Google, (no Dad, Kate or Phil with me…) who kindly explained that arctic skuas can be light phase or dark phase. Who knew? Anyway, this one was light phase and the ones at the beach trying to catch arctic terns had been dark phase.
There was a motorbike tour and support vehicle stopped at the services – apparently from New Zealand with a Swedish tour guide who was very chatty at the information sign. They were off road bikes and Keith and Danny got all misty eyed.
Our next stop was in an area completely covered by mossy rocks. Obviously, the Finnett family are very structure and rule oriented. We have seen SO many signs telling us not to step off paths and trample the local and delicate flora, that we couldnt have avoided learning that lesson. There was much self-satisfied tutting in the car as we drove past tourists pulled over at the side of the road (tut tut), standing on mossy rocks (tut tut) for their photo opportunity. The tutting chorus was very loud. We smugly drove about 2km further on and pulled into a designated parking area with noticeboards showing the damage people do by standing on the moss. Today’s surreal was a white-booted lady flying a drone over the moss covered rocks. She had an astonishing bottom encased in white leatherette leggings. Really very distracting when the surface you are walking on is so uneven. A bit of an irresponsible outfit in my opinion. I think I saw some snipe. Another one to tick off!!
Our last unscheduled stop was to work out what a metal sculpture was at the side of the road. When we pulled over (safely in a designated area obviously) and read the information, it became apparent that they were horizontal bridge supports ripped out of place by flood water off the glacier. Truly impressive evidence of the strength of nature.
We managed to find the entrance to the National Park and the kids and headed to the toilets. I went into the tourist information to find out where the glacier tour left from. The helpful lady told me to head for the wooden huts. I did. They were locked. I started to panic that we were in wrong place, but then I looked behind a large off-road bus thingy and found the hut and a friendly guide. Phew. We collected all our collective stuff into a rucksack, put harnesses and helmets on and got measured for crampons. They found some to fit Keith!! I was slightly terrified when they gave us all an ice axe, but we did get a lesson on how to carry it. Gulp.
We got on a bus with low ratio gearbox driven by an Icelandic farmer, who had an important phonecall to make as he drove, with Sylvia – our Italian guide. I took a while to warm to Sylvia as she was a bit passive aggressive with her instructions, but she calmed down once we started asking questions.
We had to hike over the terminal morraine and walk across two bridges one at a time to get to the ice. Sylvia led the way and when she turned around to collect everyone together, she said “OK, so on the way back, we will go one at a time”. As I said, passive aggressive!! Putting on the crampons with a rucksack on was tricky, but then we all started our John Wayne walks onto the glacier. Ok? Nice.
It was pretty sunny, but still not warm and it transpired that I did not have enough clothes on. I was too busy trying to stay upright to worry too much about it and just pulled my hood up over my helmet. Sylvia took us up steps chipped into the ice, showed us how to walk up (like a duck: axe, step, step) and down (feet straight down the slope: axe, step, step? The sides of the crevasses. To be honest they were not as extreme as the name makes them sound, but they were quite steep. There were loads of small holes in the ice, mostly full of water and some with small stones in.
Sylvia had chilled out under the positice influence of the children doing what they were asked and hanging on her every word. The adults of the group were less well behaved. She took us to a big hole – moulin – in the ice with water flowing down it. She said it has a maximum depth of 300m “… because of physics” – unclear science behind this statement. Then she used her ice axe to chip off the summer crust and an ice drill with a loop on the end to attach a rope to. She measured the length of the rope required and then asked for a volunteer. Mila went first (so brave!) and leant over the hole with the rope attached to her harness. Most people looked down the hole – she told us that the ice anchor could hold 2,000kg, so it seemed pretty safe! It was at this point Danny discovered the joy of the ice axe. Sylvia demonstrated the correct technique to get the axe to stick into the ice and the children lined up in a row to whack at the ice. Eveyone else stepped back while the chips flew!! While everyone else was having their turn, she sent Mila to fetch some stones. When everyone had finished she dropped the stones down the hole and we counted three seconds until it reached the bottom. That made the rope look like a good idea!
Sylvia then took us to a crevasse to walk on that wasn’t stable two weeks before. Mila spotted an ice fall from a black area and the sound rung an echo against the opposite wall of the valley. Sylvia said we were lucky to see an ice fall – normally you hear it but don’t see it. We walked past another tour group doing press ups on their ice axe over a stream. Another tour was doing ice climbing on a vertical crevasse wall. It was about this time I noticed I was properly cold and got my puffer jacket out of the bag (EDIT Keith – she refused to, I made her….which turned out to be the right plan). Then we did the crampons process in reverse and walked back across the morraine and the bridges, this time Mila had been promoted to guide and she led the way while Sylvia attempted to get the non-English speaking members of the group to cross the bridges one at a time!
Walking in crampons was a lot more tiring than it looked and Danny’s ankles were givng way on the way back. None of us managed to catch our trousers in the 10 spikes though, so that was a win!
Our return bus journey was completed by a very cheerful Icelandic man who ate chocolate with Sylvia and chatted with the children at the front of the bus. The excitement for the day complete, we made our way to our hotel for the next two nights.
It took about 25 minutes to get to the hotel, where we checked in; had a rest; had a shower and had some dinner. It was a slow process so by the time we had finished it was nearly 10pm (an 8pm table…) and we were all ready for bed!