While Steven slept in, I rose early from our remote guesthouse in Skálafell-Hjallanes, a glacial area within Vatnajökull National Park in southeast Iceland, to wander the property. What a joy it was waking up to blue skies and the sun instead of rain again.
I walked down to the road to look more closely at the memorial plaque and monument we'd seen last night in the dark when we arrived. It honored Jón Eiríksson, an influential Icelandic philosopher and scholar, who was born right here in Skálafell and is recognized for his contributions to the Enlightenment movement in Denmark and Iceland. A sign talked about his depression in his 'old age,' when he was 58. What does that make us at our ages?!
People with more time and energy than we had would enjoy the 8km-long marked Glacial Trail through the Hjallnes area that began by our guesthouse, as long as they were aware of quicksand and unstable ice cliffs! Often, dogs or cats greet us when we check in to small properties; not in Iceland, however, where some sheep greeted me when I returned!
After breakfast, Steven and I drove west toward Jökulsárlón Glacier Lagoon, where we had reservations for a boat tour amid the icebergs.
Lezlie: I thought of you as we whizzed past the tiny settlement of Hali, a far cry from your beloved Halifax!
Our initial views that day of the magnificent glacier in Vatnajökull National Park:
Approaching the departure point for our boat tour!
The intense blue color of the ice is because it absorbs all colors of the spectrum except for blue, which is reflected. The blue hue is diminished when ice is melted by the sun. Beneath the water level, ice melts without contact with the air. That is why the blue color is so striking after an iceberg has tipped over, as the part of the ice that had been underwater becomes exposed.
We were disappointed, but not surprised, that once again we had overcast skies and the sun had disappeared.
The fun had begun in getting out on the frigid water! The lagoon was one of Iceland's youngest natural features, first appearing in 1935 as a lagoon filled the deep chute that had been gouged out by a receding glacier tongue. The lagoon covers seven square miles and is nearly 900 feet deep. Its temperature hovers just above freezing because of the saltwater from the nearby Atlantic backs up the short Jökulsá River into the lagoon, which helps it from freezing.
Minutes after leaving the shore, we found a lone seal on the small chunk of ice!
There are two types of seals that pup in Iceland: harbor seals and grey seals. Most seals seen in Jökulsárlón are harbor seals, who can grow up to around six feet in length and weigh about 225 pounds. Harbor seal pups are born in May and June and nurse for three to four weeks. It's natural for the female to leave her pup on the beach for hours at a time. Because the presence of people causes great stress to seals, the female may not return to the pup while people are present. Disturbances can ultimately cause the female to abandon the pup.
In hindsight, we were fortunate to spot the seal, as that was the only wildlife we saw during the boat ride.
The guide estimated it would be from eighty to one hundred years before this part of the glacier disappears.
Glacial ice often looks so dirty because it is a mixture of ice, sand, and gravel that are dredged up as the iceberg grinds along the glacier bed. The icebergs grow even darker as they age because the grit stays put when the ice melts. The sediment is what made the lagoon look dirty or murky.
Our young guide, Egill, mentioned that he works four months a year on the glacier and spends the rest of the year studying and traveling.
I learned later that climate change, also known as global warming, has had a profound impact on Iceland's glaciers, with the global surface temperature increasing on average by more than one degree Celsius since pre-industrial times. The warming has had substantial consequences: the melting of sea ice and glaciers, sea level rise, increased vegetation growth, and changes in migratory routes of birds and animals. Glaciers cover ten percent of Iceland, and the Vatnajökull glacier is the largest ice cap in Europe outside the Arctic.
The response of glaciers to climate change depends on their size and shape: short and steep valley glaciers adjust in a decade or two, whereas larger and less steep glaciers have a much longer response time.
With several other small boats cruising the lagoon at the same time, I could understand how some people would feel the experience is missing some magic.
It was critical to be respectful of the iceberg by not approaching too close, in case it rotates. Egill told us that a piece like the one below exploded yesterday.
Scenes from James Bond's film, Die Another Day, were filmed here in the lagoon!
It was hard to believe that, as dark as it was, it was barely ten in the morning when I took these shots.
Seconds after hearing an explosive crack, or as some people describe it, a sharp bang from a gunshot, the iceberg 'calved' or cracked off the glacier. This one didn't create anything close to a tsunami, as some do, but the waves were enough that we were relieved we were no closer.
When Egill was asked if he saw polar bears in this part of Iceland, he said that after one had taken a 'wrong turn' from Greenland, it had to put down.
Our last view of the lagoon from the boat: Kayaking in the lagoon looked like heaps of fun, but also potentially extremely dangerous.
A few shots from the shore of the bobbing icebergs as we walked back to the car:
The icebergs slowly decrease in size until they're finally small enough for the current to carry them down the short Jökulsá River under the suspension bridge and out to the Atlantic.
Photos after crossing the bridge and seeing the tiny ice chunks being carried out to the Atlantic:
Diamond Beach is named for the small ice chunks that washed up on the black sand shoreline. By the time the small chunks reach these sands, most have been tumbled by currents and waves, leaving them shiny and smooth. We were lucky to see these diamonds in the rough, as they're often either sparse or non-existent.
I bet even Liz Taylor would have liked this 'diamond'!
Back in the car, we continued our lonnnnng drive back to Reykjavik via the nearby Fjallsárlón Glacier Lagoon, where we'd planned to hike. However, it had begun to pour buckets and buckets, so we gave up that idea.
A few days ago, when we were in Iceland's fjord country, we saw waterfalls tumbling down the cliffs. Now, along the southeast coast, it was the views of glaciers!
We hoped we'd have at least marginally better weather for hiking at the former Skaftafell National Park, now part of Vatnajökull National Park, the country's largest and also a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The park covered all of the Vatnajökull glacier and a large neighboring area, including two former national parks.
Though it was drizzling, it was safe enough to hike the park's Geology Trail. Unfortunately, no markers or signs pointed out any of the trail's features.
Continuing our drive west, there was a pullout shortly after leaving the park for a pair of mangled girders that were all that was left of a bridge that washed up in 1996. A volcanic eruption heated up a mountaintop lagoon of glacier water, which came rushing down the mountainside in a days-long flood that peaked at ten million gallons of water a second! Because these types of floods are not uncommon along the southern coast, many of the bridges in the area were wimpy one-lane ones that could easily be replaced.
Next up was the Skeiðarársandur or Spoon River Sands, a delta covering 500 square miles, from which the majority of Vatnajökull's meltwater drains to the Atlantic. It went on for miles and miles on both sides of the road. Janina: Did you know that geologists worldwide sometimes call an outwash plain like this a sandur, from the Icelandic word?
Finally, at the end of the sands, we could just see through the low-lying clouds the base of a beefy peak called Lómagnúpur. With it, the terrain changed markedly from the flat plain to chunks of lava and sharp-edged cliffs interspersed with lots of waterfalls, and a few farms nestled in the foreground.
The lava rock was blanketed with mustard-yellow moss. The 218-square-mile Eldhraun lava field, described as "a science experiment gone wrong," was the world's largest lava flow. Created in the 1783-1784 Lakagígar eruption or Laki fissure, lava surged out of a 16-mile-long row of fissures and craters, with deadly consequences for Iceland and Europe. After ash and poisonous gas spewed far and wide, it destroyed farmland, killing half the region's livestock, resulting in almost a quarter of Iceland's population dying from starvation.
Twenty minutes later, the view was identical.
I hardly had a chance to put my phone camera down before there was yet another stunning waterfall to take a photo of!
The volcanic cliffs, near the Þjórsá river plains in south Iceland, were just a small part of the dramatic landscape that stretched to the horizon.
After what seemed like hours on the road, Steven and I were happy to see signs of civilization as we approached Iceland's southernmost village of Vík, huddled up against yet another craggy cliff. The community also signaled the dividing line between the Southeast and the South Coast of Iceland.
In the distance was Dyrhólaey Promontory, the mysterious-looking sea stacks just offshore, which we would shortly be closer to.
First, though, we drove uphill to the Vík Church viewpoint for a grand view of the town and adjacent cliffs.
Even though the rain began again as we continued our drive toward the promontory, it and the low clouds did nothing to mar the lovely views.
If you squint, you can just notice the lighthouse on top of the cliff overlooking the sea stacks.
Since Dyrhólaey likely formed 80,000 years ago in a submarine eruption, the Atlantic's waves have eroded the island, creating the vertical cliffs. Seabirds nest in the cliffs, while offshore rocks are often also densely occupied by a wide variety of birds. I read that for centuries, Dyrhólaey has provided a valuable source of eggs and bird meat for locals. The island has been used as a fishing station since the country was first inhabited.
The monument marked the southernmost point in the country.
A view of Seljalandsfoss Waterfall from the highway:
Do you remember Eyjafjallajökull, the Icelandic volcano that erupted in the spring of 2010 and famously disrupted flights all over Europe? The first eruption emitted tongues of red-hot lava, some as much as 600 feet high, from a short fissure. It was regarded as a "tourist eruption," as people hiked up toward it in relative safety. When the eruption died down within a few weeks, it seemed that the whole thing was over.
About six weeks later, on April 14, however, came the eruption's second stage, which was far more dangerous and violent, as the earth opened in the middle of the glacier. A column of black soot and smoke shot four miles into the sky, with ash blocking out the sun, and raining over fields, cars, and roofs, and putting livestock in danger. Thankfully, the eruption caused little real long-lasting damage, and there was no loss of life.
Some experts believe that Eyjafjallajökull's eruption put Iceland on the tourist map and caused a spike in tourism, as it reminded people around the world that not only did the country exist, but that it is a geologically fascinating place! The eruption was referred to by some broadcasters who had difficulty pronouncing the long Icelandic word by its nickname, E15, or E followed by 15 letters!
The Eyjafjallajökull Visitor Center and Cafe:
Appearance can be so deceptive, as everything looked so calm and peaceful by the Eyjafjallajökull glacier and likely did before the 2010 eruption. It made me wonder when the next eruption might take place on Iceland's South Coast.
In for a penny, in for a pound, we figured. It was late, and we had had a long day behind us and still many miles before we'd reach Reykjavik and our last night in Iceland. However, as soon as we drew close to the Seljalandsfoss Waterfalls, we remembered we'd visited them on a day tour from Reykjavik way back in 2013! We didn't want to miss seeing the 210-ft.-high falls tumbling over the cliff again. The water comes from the Eyjafjallajökull glacier atop the volcano that had erupted.
It had been such a hoot taking the path behind the falls last time and getting sprayed steadily! There was no time for that this time.
Nor was there time to stroll along another path from the falls to a much smaller waterfall called Gljúfrabúi, or Cabin Dweller, which dropped into a hollow in the rock before exiting.
About an hour outside of Reykjavik, in the small town of Selfoss, was the Bobby Fischer Center, including the table on which he played the famous "Match of the Century" against Russian Boris Spassky. Fischer was embraced by the Icelandic community during his last years.
Had we known the pitted farm roads we'd have to navigate Fischer's gravesite, I think we would have said no, or likely, something much stronger!
We had to drive through a farmyard to reach a small church and his humble gravestone. The latter was easy to find as it was adorned with a chessboard and pieces.
It may be hard to imagine now, but in 1972, American chess player Fischer was front-page news all over the world. At the height of the Cold War, Fischer had earned the right to battle Spassky, a proxy for the tensions between the two nations. Iceland, a country passionate about chess and eccentric characters, won the right to host the match and have it broadcast worldwide. Back in 1972, when the world was pre-Internet, most Americans and people around the world knew almost nothing about Iceland. When Fischer defeated Spassky, he became the first and still only American-born world chess champion.
Steven and I didn't know whether to laugh or cry on seeing the pied-à-terre we'd rented for our last night in Iceland. It was almost unbelievably tiny, yet it had everything guests could ever need to stay, including a washer, a toy-sized dishwasher, and even a welcome bowl of candy and fruit!
Never have we stayed in a place that was so thoughtfully equipped as this room was: dishwasher, dish, and laundry detergent, wet wipes, good quality and plentiful pots and pans and all kitchen/cooking tools, basic cooking essentials, sanitary pads, bathrobe, travel information, adapters, all kitchen/cooking tools, a wool throw, lotions and potions, free parking, etc - there was nothing anyone could want that was not there! The owner even kindly allowed me to use the freezer in her attached home for my ice packs for my medicine.
For all that was great about it, for it to be called a one-bedroom apartment was a misnomer at the very least!
Next post: Visiting Perlan's high-tech exhibits extolling the country's natural wonders and a superb sculpture museum before flying to southern Greenland.
Posted on September 12th, 2025, from a rainy Denver, where I hope people will take care of themselves and their loved ones.
Thanks for your explanation of the beautiful blue tinting of the icebergs that have flipped over thus exposing their submerged portion. It did look mighty chilly on your iceberg tour boat although your broad smiles always warm the heart. And, again the magnificent powerful waterfalls that seem to pop up wherever you look are truly impressive. Thanks also for including scenes from your rental room -- totally brilliant use of space. xo Lina xo
ReplyDeleteFascinating…I think you are better than National Geographic.
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