August 27 - What's all the foss about?

We had a lot of distance to cover in the car today as we needed to cross the entire southern coast from Hvolsvöllur to Höfn. This was made even longer by the fact that we made a ton of stops along the way, some planned and some spontaneous.

First was Keldur, one of the oldest settlements in Iceland, first settled over a thousand years ago. It wasn't terribly exciting, but it was literally five minutes from our hotel. Also, it was FREE! (Everything in Iceland has been disgustingly expensive.)

Next we spotted Seljalandsfoss from the road and pulled over for a walk. It is distinctive in that it falls over a bit of an overhand and thus you can do a loop entirely around and under the base of the waterfall. (Fun fact: This was also FREE!)

We made another unplanned stop twenty minutes later when we spotted Skógafoss, a massive waterfall that you could walk right up to the base of. Apparently I'm the only person who bothered to read the tourist information sign daring you to "test your mettle" by walking right up to the base of the falls: all the other visitors hovered fifty meters back, which allowed us to get terrific photos unspoiled by "The Uglies". (Price: FREE!)

Another hour down the road, the weather had turned cold and windy by the time we reached the black beach of Reynisfjara. This didn't bother me, though, because it was FREE!

For lunch we grabbed some sandwiches at a gas station and drove until we found a roadside picnic table. These turned out to be a stop for walking to see some Dverghamrar ("Dwarf Cliffs"), made of the same basalt columns that dot the entire coast. Not terribly exciting but the price was right: FREE!

The basalt columns (and the sun) made a return appearance an hour later when we got to Skaftafell and hiked up a few kilometers to see Svartifoss. This waterfall was the smallest we've stopped to see today, but certainly one of the most unique in terms of the surrounding rock formations. Also, both hike and waterfall were FREE!

The final stop along the way was to see the icebergs that fill the lagoon below the glacier at Jökulsárlón. We didn't bother taking a Zodiac tour of the lagoon since we've done rides among icebergs a few times (like here and here). Also, Zodiac rides cost money whereas looking at the icebergs from the shore is FREE!

We finally rolled into Höfn in the early evening, tired and weary. This small town is primarily a fishing port and the restaurants in town specialize in high-end dishes of local seafood, especially langoustine. (This is the only time you'll see me order Surf and Turf, as I'm not a fan of steak nor lobster. Here the dish consisted of a reindeer burger with tempura langoustine.) Fittingly enough for the day we've had, our meals were completely FREE SOUL-CRUSHINGLY EXPENSIVE.

August 26 - Bonus Post: Guardian Horses

On the way up to Landmannalaugar in the morning, our guide warned us that the vehicles sometimes suffer from "jeep sickness": they are commercial SUVs equipped with after-market, oversized axles and tires that can sometimes get misaligned, which can lead to the wobbling at high speeds. When we first saw this on the other jeep in our convoy, known as "George", it looked far scarier than he described it. Indeed, that jeep had to be abandoned on the way inland because it couldn't get above 50 km/h without going berserk. One of the mechanics caught up with a replacement vehicle from town and hobbled back home in the broken vehicle as we continued on.

On the way home it was our jeep (a.k.a. "Golden Boy") that took a turn to fall apart. (Afterwards our guide admitted that these things always seem to happen in pairs but he hadn't mentioned it lest he jinx it.) Just twenty minutes from town but in the wind-blasted middle of nowhere, the front, driver-side wheel called it a day and detached itself from the rim by a sickly ten degrees (though hard to see in this picture).

We all settled in for a snooze, with nothing to do but wait for the mechanics to drive another replacement vehicle from town. Fortunately we were rescued from our boredom moments later as a team of horses appeared over the horizon looking for a snack. ("Meat for dinner!", declared an Italian in our group.)

The replacement jeep finally appeared 45 minutes later and was the same one that had problems this morning. Thankfully "George" behaved for the remaining drive into town, which is good because he was quite a big boy and would have been difficult to punish.

August 26 - Landmannalaugar

While nearby Eyjafjallajökull is certainly the most famous Icelandic volcano of recent years, the more imminent threat comes from neighboring Hekla. It normally erupts every ten to fifteen years and last went off in the year 2000 so is well overdue. We therefore kept a watchful eye as we looped three sides of it (and back) on our way inland to the interior highlands of Landmannalaugar.

This day we were on a small group tour consisting of a convoy of two large 4x4 trucks that works its way up through a barren moonscape of lava fields and dry glacial washes.

After a few hours this gave way to the verdant Landmannalaugar region, alternating between "moldy" lava flows (covered in moss) and rolling hills dotted with "free range" sheep; The ranchers just let all their sheep roam free in Iceland's interior for the summer before they are all rounded up, sorted, fleeced and/or slaughtered. (The sheep, that is.)

For lunch we stopped at Laugavegur, kicking off point for the four-day Laugavegur Trail hike. With the cold, wind, and rain at this altitude, the small tent city looked like one of the most miserable places on Earth and we were well glad that hiking and camping are not activities we pretend to want to do anymore.

Instead, our group had a short 90-minute walk across a lava field and up a geothermally active volcano.

Before heading back, we had the chance to swim in a geothermal pool to warm up. However, while the water itself looked nice and warm, we figured the odds of us not getting cold and wet on the way back to the truck made it not worth the effort, so we decided to give it a pass.

August 25 - Geysir and Gullfoss

Our first real driving day today, though only about three hours total. (The distances around Iceland aren't very big for those of us used to travelling around western Canada.) First stop was Geysir to see the eponymous water spout.

That's actually a geyser called Strokkur (insert your own immature joke here), not Geysir itself. Geysir is only a few dozen meters away but doesn't erupt very reliably any more, partially due to an earthquake a few decades ago, and partially thanks to some tourists who decided to push boulders down it in the 1950s. (I'm not normally in favor of the death penalty, but I might reconsider for jackholes like this who dedicate their lives to ruining things for the rest of us.) Luckily Strokkur is dubbed "the most reliable geyser in the world" and erupts every three to four minutes so it's not too difficult to time your photos.

Then it was on to nearby Gullfoss, our first "foss" (waterfall) of many in the coming weeks.

A few more hours of driving and we made it to our hotel, a restored cow barn in the shadow of Eyjafjallajökull, the volcano that halted air traffic in 2010.

August 24 - The Blue Lagoon

Today was a slower day to catch our breath after a very busy start to the holiday. We had the morning off to sleep in and catch up on work (Jessica) & blogging (me). In the afternoon we had a booking at The Blue Lagoon geothermal spa to sooth our muscles, sore from several days of sleeping on planes, running marathons, fighting the crowds in Reykjavik, caving, and snorkeling. The visit isn't complete without a silicate mud mask, as well as a "floating massage".

Now we're somewhat recovered and have supple faces to officially begin the Iceland Ring Road loop tomorrow.

August 23 - Black and Blue

Fun fact: between the marathon and our various outings to Reykjavik Culture Night, my Apple Watch reports I covered nearly 53 km on foot yesterday. The sensible thing to do is have a restful day inside to let my muscles recover.

I am not sensible.

Instead, we caught an early morning tour out to Þingvellir National Park for the "Black and Blue" tour. "Black" consisted of caving in Gjabakkahellir Lava Tube, which proved quite difficult on wobbly legs as the lava rocks are smooth, slippery, and quite light (meaning often that boulders that looked to be quite heavy and stable turned out to be ready to rock back and forth with little weight).

After lunch the "Blue" segment of the tour consisted of a snorkel in Silfra Fissure, which forms where the European tectonic plate (left, in photo below) separates from the North American plate (right) and fills with ice-cold glacial runoff. After about an hour of prep ("teddy bear" suit (warm), then "otter" suit (dry), then hoods, collars, booties, gloves, goggles, and snorkels) we were finally ready to plunge into the frigid water.

By the time we entered the water the only exposed skin left was our lips, which instantly stung when we hit the water then went completely numb within minutes (to the point that it was difficult to talk for several minutes when we were done).

"Blue" is barely the right name for this leg of the tour, as "Clear" would be more appropriate. The water filters through 50 km of rock after leaving the glacier and thus is perfectly clear, clean, and even safe to drink. (The photo below looks bluer and less clear than it was, as my camera struggled with its first-ever swim and extreme cold.) The subtle current gently carried us over crevices and caves visible tens of meters down into darkness, creating the illusion that we were flying.

Or perhaps this should have been the "Green" section of the tour, in honor of the "silly string" algae that blanketed the shallower sections. (I took the tour guide's advice and tried drinking some of the water and I'm pretty sure I took in quite a bunch of this algae as well - yum!)

Afterwards we were driven back to Reykjavik to collect our car and got out of the "big city" to Grindavik. Tomorrow is a day of recharging the batteries before starting our driving tour of the Ring Road around the island.

August 22 (PM) - Reykjavik Culture Night

The Reykjavik Marathon was scheduled to split the day with Menningarnótt (a.k.a. Reykjavik Culture Night) in the afternoon and evening. After a rest and a shower we headed out into the light-but-persistent drizzle to find the streets already quite full, though most of the live bands had chosen to play from the dry safety of inside the store windows.

(Aside: A public service announcement to everyone under six feet tall: when you are carrying an open umbrella the spokes are at eye-gouging level for those of us who are over six feet tall. Please take this in consideration when charging at us in crowded spaces. While I'm sure you're quite fond of staying dry in the rain, I'm quite fond of the sense of vision.)

The Reykjavic Gay Pride festival was a few weeks earlier and they had painted the rainbow flag on one of the hilly streets leading up to Hallgrímskirkja. (Photo taken early the next morning when the crowds had dispersed.)

This instantly reminded me of the "Slide the City" event that Jessica & I attended in Calgary a month ago, and gave me a great idea: replace the Gay Pride Parade with "Gay Pride the City": instead of driving the floats down 17th avenue, slide them down a rainbow flag on 10th street, with music blasting and water cannons in hand to douse the protesters. I shall have to send a recommendation off to Pride Calgary when we get home.

Despite the crowds we managed to find a table in a bar labeling itself as an "Authentic English Gastropub" (it was close enough) for some beers and snacks before returning to our flat for a late-afternoon siesta. The evening promised an outdoor concert and fireworks over the harbor at 11, so we figured we'd recharge before heading back out for a proper meal and to see the events. Unfortunately, when we went back out the drizzle had turned into a heavy downpour and the crowds had gotten even thicker, barring us from getting anywhere near the concert nor standing a chance of finding a spot in a restaurant.

A bit tired and fed up with the crowds, we agreed that we couldn't be bothered to stay up for the fireworks. Instead we settled for trips to the liquor store and kebab take-out before retiring to our apartment for a "room party" and a collapse into bed. Again we slept a solid eight hours from about 10PM to 6AM, jet lag be damned, suggesting that a great way to defeat jet lag is simply to kill the day by running a marathon!

(Some might argue that the cure is worse than the disease here, as spending five hours running in the morning rain is less pleasant than spending five hours awake in a warm bed at night. I suppose there's no accounting for tastes.)

August 22 (AM) - Reykjavik Marathon in Photos

We timed this trip so that I could run the Reykjavik marathon on the second day to get the hard work done early in the holiday, though this only gave me one day to get over jet lag and be well-rested for the run. Thankfully, after being disciplined on the first day and only allowing ourselves a short one-hour nap, we were both able to sleep a fairly uninterrupted eight hours from 10PM - 6AM.

Starting weather conditions were quite good: calm and cool with a slight breeze. The honorary race marshal was Katherine Switzer, first woman to (unofficially) run the Boston Marathon. She was doling out high-fives at the starting line but when I went to get mine I was foiled by another runner who wanted a minute-long hug and chat.

Most of the participants were in the half-marathon and 10 km races, with only about 1200 people taking part in the full marathon. However, the half and full marathoners all started at the same time and along narrow streets so the first 5 km was the most annoying "roller derby" I've done in a while.

The crowd had thinned out by the time I met my official support team at around the 12 km mark. This was my chance to ditch my long-sleeve undershirt but the weather had gotten wetter and windier so I needed to keep it.

Once we split from the half-marathoners, the remaining course got a bit "bush league" as we left the main roads and switched to bike paths through the suburbs. There were only 1200 of us and I'm a slower-than-average runner, which resulted in patches where I was out of sight of any other runners or course marshals, and it was hard to believe I was taking part in an official race.

The middle section of the course was not particularly scenic (not ugly; just plain) as it mostly ran through suburban bike and walking trails, occasionally over the freeway, but it did offer an occasional view.

The hours wore on and my personal performance was going better than expected, as I was on pace to run a negative split and was passing dozens of people in the second half, never getting passed myself since we split off from the half-marathoner's at the 19 km marker. (No doubt the sea-level air and the forced slow pace at the start helped me along.)

The last 15 km was prettier as we looped along the sea wall around the entire peninsula that makes up Reykjavik city centre.

Note the young woman in the yellow top: I caught up with her at about the 25 km mark and we were neck-and-neck competitors for the remaining two hours of the race. We leap-frogged back and forth until about 30 km, I pulled way ahead of her at about 35 km, then she caught up and paced about 10 meters behind me for the last 5 km. (I'm pretty sure she was using me as a pace bunny. Either that or a wind-break because it had gotten quite gusty by the afternoon and in exactly the wrong direction.) Unfortunately for me, as we turned the final corner and caught sight of the finish line, she turned on the jets and left me in the dust, claiming the honor of the only person to pass me in the last 23 km. (She's just across the finish line on the left in the photo below.)

When she first made her move I was tempted to take up the challenge, but in hindsight I'm glad I didn't because I'm pretty sure she would have won. (I meant to find her after the race to congratulate her but forgot. The joke's on her though, because according to the official results my chip time was 23 seconds faster than her. Ha!) More importantly, I managed to do something this race that I never did during my last marathons over a decade before: finish the race with a smile on my face.

I was happy with my time of just under five hours. I've only lost 30 minutes in the decade+ since my last marathon. (That's the advantage of already being a slow runner when you're young - you don't lose much of a step as you age.) We totally forgot to take a post-race photo with my medal; I was too focused on what I had been thinking about for the last few hours of running: a take-out from "Reykjavik Chips" by our apartment.

A large order of fries doused in wasabi mayonnaise, and probably enough salt and calories to completely nullify the morning's work!

(P.S. Don't ask me what my race shirt says. I haven't a clue.)

August 21 - Reykjavík

Arriving in the early morning in Iceland, we had a moderately busy first day in Reykjavík as we attempted to stave off jet-lag and wait to be able to check into our apartment: a bit of touristing, race package pickup, wireless router pickup, etc.

The tourism element took much less than expected since we're really in Iceland to see some natural beauty and couldn't be bothered with the various museums in town, especially when tired after an overnight flight (not even the much-venerated Icelandic Phallological Museum). We took a quick trip to the top of Hallgrímskirkja and got the standard photo in front of the status of Leif Erikson:

Finding a lot of time on our hands before we could check-in to our rooms, we had a slow lunch, a slow wander around the grocery store for supplies, a slow pickup of our wireless router, a slow race package pickup, then a slow wander around central Reykjavík, where the locals were friendly though somewhat homely:

When we were finally able to get into our apartment, the final remaining goal was just to stay awake for a few hours so I could manage to sleep a decent period ahead of the marathon tomorrow. Our grocery supplies went into action to create a carbo-load meal, but since this is the only time we'll have a kitchen we couldn't load up on much nor cook anything requiring complex ingredients. Thus was born a romantic meal of fried bacon on spaghetti with marinara sauce with "virgin" garlic toast (no butter; no garlic) - hereby known as "Spaghetti Baconara".

You'll notice there are no napkins on the table because we couldn't find any, and Jessica initially wanted to use some toilet paper. But I would have nothing of it and instead eventually found an old package of tissues in my running gear.

Because, you know... I'm classy like that.

Another Northern Adventure.

Leaving tomorrow...

Or for the younger crowd: