Near Fjarðabyggð – All photos are Copyright © Brandon Elijah Scott / Eye & Pen
I left Borgarnes, bypassing the Westfjords peninsula via Route 1. However, the next time that I find myself in Iceland, I plan on roaming through the entire peninsula, if possible. The roads on Route 1, between 60 and 61 were absolutely awful. I found myself driving over a snow-covered mountain from hell, where I could barely see in front of my car, and I couldn't go any faster than 20 MPH. A lot of the roads were hugging the side of a cliff, where one wrong move, one slippery slope, and I was going to meet my demise. It was a bit unnerving, to say the least.
(Click image to enlarge)
Near Skagaströnd.
After about two hours of slow driving through that hellish sludge, I made it to clearer roads, and beautiful pastures. Even though the paths thus far had been rather stressful, I decided to continue my explorations by heading north on the 74 to the 745. The drive was uneventful until the nice paved roads were replaced with gravel paths that sneakingly began to resemble baby swiss cheese – there were so many potholes that it was impossible to fish through, turning my wheel from side to side, without slamming into at least five holes. I finally had enough after 15-minutes of looking like a drunk guy trying to decide whether he should continue driving or open the door and puke, so I turned around and started back south again. But it wasn't a total loss, this volcano photo turned out sort of interesting, eh?
Skagafjörður.
It was such a relief to be so close to where I was to stay the night at, after the horrible winter roads experience. So after I explored the small town of Skagafjörður, which sits along the northern coast of Iceland, I came to an interesting strip of road that was surrounding by water, which had smooth sandy beach lining each side. I parked my car partially on the side of the road, with my front end sinking softly into the sand of the beach. I sat down on the wet sand, kicking off my boots, so I could sink my feet into the chilly water – and even though the temperature made this act a curious, and probably unadvisable, it was a beautiful relief, sending relaxation throughout my body. There are few better ways to relieve the stresses of a wintery hell.
Reykir, north of Skagafjörður.
Reykir, north of Skagafjörður.
A short 15-minute drive via a pothole filled gravel road later, and I found myself parked outside of my accommodation, the Reykir Reykjastrond Guesthouse – it was set near the coast, with the famous Dragney island within view. The guesthouse was a quaint, attractive two-story log cabin, which offered four rooms for travelers to stay in – but after a bit, I found that the cabin was mostly popular with hunters at this time of the year. After a while, three men came hiking down the mountains that sat behind the gravel road, they were dressed in orange camo suits, and they each had a large rifle swung over their shoulders. The men unlocked the doors and let me get acquainted with my room, before offering for me to join them for dinner. One of the men cooked and we sat around, drinking beers and talking about anything and everything that came to mind. They were a lighthearted group, comprised of an older man who was the father of the man who was cooking, with the other being a friend of the chef.
Dinner was, to my surprise, reindeer burgers, with some sort of a blue cheese twist inside the patties, with bacon on top. It was a bit strange, with the texture being very soft, and the meat being under cooked and rare, but overall it was a satisfying meal – with good company, so how can that ever be bad, eh? I had no idea, but down the hill, within feet of the cliffside, was a natural geothermal pool, so we all ran through the cold, crisp air and jumped in the pool. It was the perfect temperature for relaxation, and respite from the cold Iceland winter air, but there were a few spots within the pool that had to be at boiling point, so you had to be careful not to get scorched.
Dinner was, to my surprise, reindeer burgers, with some sort of a blue cheese twist inside the patties, with bacon on top. It was a bit strange, with the texture being very soft, and the meat being under cooked and rare, but overall it was a satisfying meal – with good company, so how can that ever be bad, eh? I had no idea, but down the hill, within feet of the cliffside, was a natural geothermal pool, so we all ran through the cold, crisp air and jumped in the pool. It was the perfect temperature for relaxation, and respite from the cold Iceland winter air, but there were a few spots within the pool that had to be at boiling point, so you had to be careful not to get scorched.
Reykir, north of Skagafjörður.
The next morning, I awoke an orangish purple sunrise bleeding through my window, threw on my clothes and eagerly packed my bags – within 10-minutes, I said good bye to the boys, and setoff again, with fresh eagerness of a brand new day, full of promise and mystery. The 17-KM drive from the cabin back into town was really pleasant (as you can see above), as the view was spectacular, ever-changing, and full of unique visual surprises.
Goðafoss Waterfall.
I passed through the beautifully fjord-set city of Akureyri along Route 1 – the roads were clear and stress-free until I was parallel to the Akureyri, as the roads turned further inland, rising along loftier landscapes, they turned white and particularly treacherous. A little while later I came to the Goðafoss Waterfall, which was high on my list as an interesting photo opportunity, but as you can see from the photo above, while it was beautiful in its own wintery right, it wasn't exactly the best conditions to hike down to the water and to roam around it to get the best shot. It was very cold – besides the fact that it was around 15°F, the mist coming off of the falls began freezing to ice on my face.I continued on after a brief tour of the falls, along Route 1 for a few until I reached the 845 and from there I took the 85 to Húsavík – the whale watching capital of Iceland.
I was invited to stay at the lovely Árból Guesthouse for the night. The guesthouse was a few stories tall, setup more like a hotel than a place worthy of congregating and meeting other travelers, but overall, I was quite satisfied with the comfort level of my room. Unfortunately, the season wasn't right for whale watching, so most of the town had shut down its tourism and so there wasn't much to do – I took it easy, resting up, and gearing up for the rest of my trip around the island, because I knew the next day's drive would be another drive from hell.
I was invited to stay at the lovely Árból Guesthouse for the night. The guesthouse was a few stories tall, setup more like a hotel than a place worthy of congregating and meeting other travelers, but overall, I was quite satisfied with the comfort level of my room. Unfortunately, the season wasn't right for whale watching, so most of the town had shut down its tourism and so there wasn't much to do – I took it easy, resting up, and gearing up for the rest of my trip around the island, because I knew the next day's drive would be another drive from hell.
Mývatn.
Mývatn.
From all of the places I was told that I 'HAD TO GO TO' in Iceland, Mývatn, the infamous geothermal region was among the top of the list. It was described to me as other worldly and what you could imagine Mars to look like. This wasn't the first geothermal region I had come across in Iceland thus far, however it surely was the largest. If it weren't for the snow covering up most of the land around the most active geothermal spots, I bet I would have agreed that it looked 'other worldly' too, but alas, most of what I saw was under a foot of snow, except for what you see in the photos above.
Geothermal areas do, of course, have a distinct sulfuric smell, but it's typically not too bad – after a while, I was beginning to enjoy the smell of it, as it's sort of one of those odd smells that you have the urge to continue to smelling, like gasoline or fresh-cut grass. However, once I started walking around through the areas in the photos above, I found myself stuck in the downwind draft of the large billowing sulfuric pit from hell (or whatever), and the effect was purely disgusting. My lungs filled with the strong putrid gas, and my nose started running, and my head instantly started hurting, while I bent forward coughing up my guts – while I didn't puke, I really thought I was about to let loose all over the ground. After that, like a bad night of drinking tequila and you never want to smell it ever again, I was obscenely OVER the smell of geothermal activity.
Geothermal areas do, of course, have a distinct sulfuric smell, but it's typically not too bad – after a while, I was beginning to enjoy the smell of it, as it's sort of one of those odd smells that you have the urge to continue to smelling, like gasoline or fresh-cut grass. However, once I started walking around through the areas in the photos above, I found myself stuck in the downwind draft of the large billowing sulfuric pit from hell (or whatever), and the effect was purely disgusting. My lungs filled with the strong putrid gas, and my nose started running, and my head instantly started hurting, while I bent forward coughing up my guts – while I didn't puke, I really thought I was about to let loose all over the ground. After that, like a bad night of drinking tequila and you never want to smell it ever again, I was obscenely OVER the smell of geothermal activity.
As I said before, I was gearing myself up for another horrible drive, and damn my luck, I was right. The roads were at least five times worse, with the lowest visibility I've ever seen in my life. I had to drive 120 KM in the lowest level of hell, or rather, Heaven, considering the fact that the visibility was less than a car length in all directions, on white snow, with white cloudy fog all around me. It was as if I was driving through the clouds at 5-10 MPH – because if I would have driven any faster, then I would have put myself in a ditch, or plunging off the side of a cliff somewhere. Purely miserable.
The only good part about this day was that I was able to snag the photo above here, and also the photo at the very top of this post. The top photo was about 5 miles from the town of Fjarðabyggð, where I stayed for the night. I chose to stay here because the views were spectacular – the town was small with not a lot to offer, but the fact that it was set low along the fjord, with high mountainous walls surrounding me as far as the eye can see made it totally worth it. I stayed at the Hjá Marlin Guesthouse, which was comprised of a few buildings sat right above the water of the fjord. I had one of the entire houses to myself – while that aspect was nice for comfort, it was a bit creepy at times, but I could imagine that during the busier seasons, that the place is packed and a lot of fun. It had a lot of open common rooms, lounging areas, TV rooms, game rooms, and a large kitchen. I relaxed for the night, watching the beautiful sunset creep behind the mountains – unfortunately, I didn't grab a photo of the scene.
Oxí Pass Waterfall.
Oxí Pass.
The next day was similar to the day before, at first – the roads were snowy and difficult to drive, with the only difference being that some of these roads were MUCH MORE treacherous, as I found out later that I was high up in the mountains for most of the first couple of hours. As the road began swooping from one end to the other, slowly descending, the skies started clearing and the snow began to disappear, to my everlasting delight. After a few minutes of this new development, I rounded a corner, and WHAMMY! (as Champ says), the scene you see above met my eyes. Oh, the rugged beauty.
Near Höfn.
Near Höfn.
Heading down the mountain, I was met with the gorgeous coast of southern Iceland. The views were amazing, and ever-changing, and the winds were some of the strongest I've ever driven through before – it whipped my car from one side to the other, making it difficult to remain road bound. The coastal drive went on and on, for nearly three hours, and the sun began to set by the time I reached my accommodation. I had setup a night at the Smyrlabjörg Country Hotel, which was surprisingly packed with travelers. Their facilities were more like a large complex of several buildings, and my hotel room was quite typical, like any other hotel, but they also had a dining room in their main building, where I basically lived for the rest of the night – the food was spectacular, but the prices were rather absurd (but that's food in Iceland for ya, eh?).
Near Höfn.
I relaxed for the rest of the night, ready for another big drive the next day – but the main highlight that I was looking forward to, for the next day was the famous Jökulsárlón glacier bay!
Routing map, thanks to Google Maps.
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