Appetites sated, we began day one of our driving excursions, determined on this day to find and observe the odd little bird known as a Puffin. We loaded up the Radio Flyer with supplies for the day, and headed east and south, with wonder in our eyes and sugary bread in our bellies. Once we made it out of the city, the road led us up into a high pass, where the fog became so thick we were unable to see more than twenty or thirty feet in front of us. It gave us a close and eerie feeling, as though this strange and magical land was hinting to us that our surroundings were going to be very different soon.
The fog lifted as we came down the other side of the pass, and we were taken aback by what we saw. We were still fairly high up, and we could see for miles. As some of you may know, Iceland is a land formed by volcanic eruptions of yore, and great wide fields of igneous rock offer a singular and bizarrely appealing scene. It looks very much like a once rough sea, all crashing waves and conflicting currents, somehow became petrified, the liquid flow of water hardened into rough craggy rocks. Covering this strangely hypnotic scape is a blanket of short, stubby, mossy looking grass, making the charcoal colored rocky edges that jut through seem like crests breaking the surface as the waves collide. Rising up from this great green sea are huge and majestic mountains, often alone but sometimes in groups of two or three.
The highway on which we traveled wove around these mountains and through these rocky fields, passing free roaming sheep and corrals of the shaggy maned Icelandic horses, and after a while our appetites returned. This seemed like a good time to try the ubiquitous and highly recommended Icelandic hot dog, touted as being the best in the world by pretty much everyone we spoke to. Included in this recommendation was the notion that we should try one with “everything”, which included both raw and fried onions, sweet mustard (a red flag for me), mayonnaise (my great nemesis) disguised as a remoulade, and ketchup. It is also to be noted that hot dogs in Iceland are made out of lamb, as opposed to beef and pork, and have a singular flavor.
We found a nice looking little restaurant on the side of the road and pulled over. Despite the sweet mustard and dressed up mayo, I followed the custom and ordered one with the aforementioned works, as did my Flying Companion. Here I once again learned the lesson that just because people tell me to do a thing does not mean I should do it. The hot dog itself I had no issue with, but the “everything” proved too much by far. The poor hot dog had been drowned in condiments, and I made it two bites in before the slimy cream of mayonnaise and tangy-sweet of incorrect mustard overtook me.
This would prove to be our only foray into the cuisine of hot doggery.
From there it was a quick drive to the southern coast, where we saw, aside from the ocean, beaches of black sand, which despite the name still managed to surprise us by being so black and sandy, and nesting in the cliffs above, many examples of the Puffin, an odd and beautiful looking bird that seems like a cross between a penguin, a toucan, and a seagull. The beach itself was closed off to humans, so we meandered along the cliffs overlooking the beach, getting close enough to the Puffins to make my Flying Companion positively giddy. We spent a good deal of time walking around, sighing heavily and making quiet oohs and ahhs at the beauty of it, but eventually had to move on, as we had one destination ahead of us yet, which I will skip ahead to now, because I don’t imagine you need to read any more of me rambling about the oceanic looking lava fields we drove by again.
Skogar Falls, which is about 60 meters high, is fed by two glaciers, spelled Eyjafjallajokull and Myrdalsjokull and pronounced at your own risk, and it will take your breath away. Not only because it’s beautiful and you can play in the pool in which it falls (if you will), but also because the steps leading to the top of it are quite steep, and there are 370 of them. The view from the top is worth it however, as one can see all the way to the coast, which is roughly five miles off, and feel a little better about one’s cardiovascular health, as everyone else up there is breathing pretty hard as well.
After filling our eyes with this watery wonder, we made the still long but also still beautiful drive back into Reykjavik, at which point my Flying Companion promptly passed out, and I took a walk, bought myself a $13 beer (Iceland, as I said, is expensive), and made the notes for what you’ve just read. I also took a walk around downtown, and made a few notes on places for us to visit later in our trip. That last sentence is what we call foreshadowing, and you’ll read more about those places in the future. Day 2 came to an end as the sun almost went all the way down around 11:30, and I made my way back to the apartment for another attempt at sleep.
Day 3 and 4 coming soon, and thanks as always for reading!
-John
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