We awoke to the third straight day of wind and rain—we only had one sunny day the whole trip, and that’s when we were sailing to the Arctic Circle dressed in moon suits, so it really didn’t matter. And while the lousy weather bummed us out a bit at times, it didn’t stop us from seeing what we planned to see. That said, it does start to wear you down after a while. It makes you want to slap a puffin around.
About thirty minutes south of Vik, we came to the powerful Skogafoss Waterfall. The Skogafoss Waterfall marks the beginning of the 16-mile long Fimmvörðuháls Trail, or “Waterfalls Way”, which ends in Thórsmörk. Apparently, it’s a waterfall conveyor belt.
We admired the thundering cascade from the bottom, and then Inna climbed the long staircase to the top of the waterfall to get a completely different perspective. I wasn’t interested anymore. Upon her return an hour later, she said she was lucky she didn’t bust her ass coming down the slippery steps.
While she was huffing her way up the stairs, I chatted with two young couples from Hong Kong in a camper van. Not that it matters, but the majority of tourons we encountered on our journey were Asians and India Indians.
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Like the Chinese kids, most people were driving counterclockwise on the Ring Road. I’m not sure why, other than the fact that it’s the quickest way to the Golden Circle, a loop drive popular with folks wanting to do an outing fairly near Reykjavik.
The problem as I see it is that you immediately start seeing attractions that you just have to check out, and you can easily burn up lots of time before your trip even gets started. Before you know it, the day is gone and you have only covered a hundred miles or so. That means you will have to drive many more hours each day for the rest of the trip because you burned up so much time right at the beginning. We went clockwise on the Ring Road and it’s not as action-packed at the beginning—there’s only Glymur Falls—so you can cover a lot of ground at the start of your long journey. Plus, we were doing the Ring Road in nine days rather than five which makes a huge difference.
Our next stop was Seljalandsfoss Waterfall, which is the one you can walk behind. Lines of curious fools were slipping and sliding their way through the slick mud and rocks inside a dripping cave under the cliff where they could see the water come crashing—and I mean CRASHING—down only 20-30 feet away.
Keep in mind it had been raining for three days straight. The rivers were swollen to the point of bursting. Every river we saw, no matter the size, was running at a Class 5 level, like Lava Falls in the Grand Canyon, the largest rapid in North America. Iceland has a zillion rivers and everyone looked completely out of control. They were unrunnable in a raft, or any watercraft other than maybe a squirt boat. They weren’t so much rapids as maelstroms.
So, imagine what the Seljalandsfoss Waterfall looked like, and then imagine getting near such a beast. Imagine a stray rock being launched from the top and you standing below. Now imagine trying to dodge the thundering side waterfalls in order to escape from the backside. Hey, many—but not most—people were doing it. But not us.
And to be honest, after seeing hundreds of waterfalls on our magical mystery tour, I was sick of waterfalls. To hell with waterfalls! Who needs ‘em?
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And we still had a busy day ahead of us. The last fifty miles to Reykjavik were a blur of busy roads, two-lane bridges, industrial farms, and the Reykjavik satellite towns like Selfoss and Hveragerði. There were even a few stretches of freeway.
We had Google Maps locked in thanks to Inna. She had purchased a month of Sprint’s “International Plan” service for $50. So, we always knew where we were going.
We drove directly to the Hotel Odinsve in the Historic District. It was 2:30 and they let us check in.
We returned our trusty rental car to Budget Command Central near the cruise port. And then we caught a cab to the BSI bus station, about six miles away, for $45.
At the BSI Bus Terminal, we caught our Reykjavik Expeditions tour bus to the Blue Lagoon. We had booked a package for $150 per person through “Get Your Guide” which included the following:
• Round-trip bus from Reykjavik
• Blue Lagoon entry ticket
• Towel
• Silica mud mask
• 1 drink at the water bar (for adults only)
All we needed to bring was our swimming suit and the whole thing went seamlessly.
The Blue Lagoon is Iceland’s #1 attraction and it’s definitely a must-see. It’s a giant money machine and it’s crowded all the time. But its huge amoeba-shaped pools have lots of nooks and crannies where you can cavort and be virtually alone. The water is warm and in certain spots, it’s close to hot. They pump the 100-degree geothermal seawater directly from 2,000 meters beneath the surface of the earth. It’s quite salty and that’s what gives the water its distinctive milky blue color, along with the iconic white mud that is one of Blue Lagoon’s hallmarks.
We spent three hours at the Lagoon and immensely enjoyed what is certainly one of the Earth’s unique experiences.
Our journey ended as it had begun, with us passing by the nearby Sundhnúksgígar volcano eruption that was still spitting fire and attracting large crowds. Long lines of Darwin Award contestants were streaming like excitable ants toward the active volcano. Because, as we were told time and time again, it was perfectly safe, in spite of the fact the authorities had evacuated the nearby town of Grindavik a week before.
Inna and I had given this ambitious trip our best. We had experienced the full-on “Fire & Ice” experiences of Iceland. And while the weather pretty much sucked, it was well worth the effort to see so many different zippity-doo-dah worlds all in one welcoming country. And we proved yet again that we ain’t no puskadroms.
