Wintry Golden Circle

One of the most popular sightseeing tours in Iceland is called the Golden Circle. This tour encompasses three main sights: Gullfoss, Geysir, and Þingvellir, which are all within 45 minutes of the capital, Reykjavik. We visited all three last year around this time.

Gullfoss (Golden Falls) is a wide and powerfull waterfall that you can hear before you catch sight of it. You walk along a path, and then you become aware that the falls are below you. This is how they looked on Christmas day 2012.

I read that the photo on the Echo and the Bunnymen album, Porcupine, is of Gullfoss. Cool. Here it is from another angle.

Geysir is a geyser, as you may have already surmised. (The Icelandic word is actually the origin of the English one.) It is very close to Gullfoss, so be sure to visit both if you are in the area. It erupts fairly frequently, but not predictably, so you could be waiting a while before seeing one, or you might see two or three eruptions within 20 minutes. Unfortunately we were always a second or two too late in catching the eruptions on camera.

Þingvellir (pronounced THING-vetlir) is an area of both geological and historical interest. Geologically, it is the rift between two plates, the North American and Eurasian. These plates are separating at a rate of a centimeter per year. Plate techtonics in action. This is one of the spots where you can see Iceland sitting directly on top of the mid-Atlantic ridge.

Historically, Þingvellir is the place where the world's first parliament met. Over a thousand years ago, the chiefs of the various areas of Iceland would gather here annually to set laws and settle disputes. There is one particular spot with a great echo where the speaker would stand so that he could be heard clearly by everyone. The area was declared a UNESCO World Heritage site in 2004.

There are some nice trails and waterfalls throughout.

The lake there, seen here in a photo from early September 2013, is full of trout.

It's also a nice place to pick blueberries and crowberries in autumn.

Dyrhólaey

There is a peninsula with a natural arch on the southern coast of Iceland called Dyrhólaey. The name translates as door (dyr) hole (hóla) island (ey). (I read that it used to be an island.) Dyrhólaey is a popular spot to visit and take pictures. If you look at the photo below closely, you can see the tiny sightseers on top.

Looking in the other direction, a long, black sand beach stretches out to the horizon. For scale, note the white jeep slightly right of the center of the photo. (This shot was taken about 11 months earlier than the others, hence the different colors in the sky and water.) Also note the lack of sunbathers and swimmers --- it's chilly out there!

Here is the view from the top of the arch itself, looking back at the point where we stood to take the photo above:

The arch itself is quite nice to look at, but in the summer, a special bonus is the presence of nesting puffins. Apparently they are not bothered by the proximity of humans.

They are as ridiculously cute in person as we had seen in pictures.

Two of the gazillion waterfalls of Iceland

Hard to believe how long it has been since we last posted to this blog. It really wasn't our intention to let it lapse for so long. Just got the feeling no one was looking at it and therefore lacked incentive. We would like to get it going again. Let's start with a look back at some of the places we've visited in Iceland that we haven't gotten around to blogging about until now.

Southeast of Reykjavik are a couple of scenic waterfalls right off of National Route 1, also known as The Ring Road. Here are some photos from our visits there.

Seljalandsfoss in the rain, Sept. 2012:

Our second visit to Seljalandsfoss in August 2013 was less rainy, allowing us to walk on the trail behind the falls. Here is the view from there.

Skógafoss waterfall in August 2013:

It makes a big impression from close up.

Near Skógafoss is Skógasafn, or Skógar Museum, which includes exhibits about life in Iceland as well as a separate transport museum.

There was a display about folklore and healing arts. The caption in the sign below for "child's pipe" reads "Baby boys were given their first milk through the hollow bone of a whooper swan (Cygnus cygnus) which was stuck through a fish bone. This ensured that they would never be seasick. It was also reputed to give them a beautiful singing voice." No need for Dramamine then.

In the old days, Icelandic kids didn't have Legos, Transformers, and Barbies. Instead, their toys were bones and crudely carved wooden figures:

Outside was a grouping of little elf houses near some bone toys.

The museum also featured taxidermied animals of the region, weirdly including a 2-headed lamb. Reminded us of certain roadside attractions in the US.

In the transport section, we saw the precursor to Iceland's modern superjeeps. Check out this early snow vehicle.

Icelandic Knitting

Knitting is a strong part of Icelandic culture. It's visible on the street, even on bikes

and on trees!

Cafes sometimes offer a knitting basket with a piece of unfinished knitting in it, in case you feel like knitting a few rows as you enjoy your coffee and peruse the newspaper.

As a knitter, I was happy to join not one, but two knitting groups. The camaraderie, the advice, the trading of patterns, the snacks, what fun! In Rome, a friend and I tried to start such a group, but there, knitting is thought of as an old lady's hobby. Getting my Italian friends to give it a try was near impossible. In the end, I did get one friend to join, and she learned enough to make a hat.

Here in Iceland, handknits are very popular. One sees all sorts of people -- babies and elderly, hipsters and teens, everyone -- wearing handmade Icelandic sweaters. Such a sweater is called a lopapeysa in Icelandic, after Icelandic lopi wool. Peysa means sweater. I decided to knit one of my own.

I chose a pattern called Sjón, published in the pattern book, Lopi 30. It was originally written to fit men, so it had a big, boxy shape. Since I wanted a better-fitting, long cardigan rather than a loose pullover, I made some changes to it.

Icelandic sweaters are usually knit in-the-round, which means using circular knitting needles and making a tube. This one is knit from the bottom up. First I knit the body from the bottom to armpit level. Then I knit both sleeves and joined them to the body. Next was the colorwork, the yoke design from the chest up to the neck.

To make a cardigan, you add a few stitches in each row so that there ends up begin a vertical column the front center, and when you are finished knitting your sweater, you actually cut it open. This process, called steeking, strikes fear in the heart of many a knitter. Here it is as a pullover, and you can see the center column where it will be cut.

I threaded some blue yarn along the column to make it clear where I should cut. Using a sewing machine, I sewed a line of red thread on either side of the blue column to reinforce the sweater and prevent it from falling apart once the cut was made.

Then it was time to put scissors to the carefully knitted garment. Scary.

Next I folded the raw edges under and inserted a zipper. This turned out to be the hardest part of the entire process.

I ended up putting it in, being unhappy with the outcome, seeking advice, taking out one side, and reinserting it. It was frustrating, but now it's finally done.

Front view:

Side view:

Top view:

Back view:

Snæfellsnes

Hi, Readers. We haven't been blogging lately, but it's not because we haven't been doing much. There are lots of fun things to do in Iceland, and we have been quite busy. At some point we plan to post photos of some of our activities over the past several months. For now, let's focus on last month's day trip to the Snæfellsnes peninsula, about 2.5 hours from Reykjavik.

We began on the southern part of the peninsula, and afterward visited the northern part. First stop, the tiny village of Arnarstapi, near the snow-covered Snæfells glacier (Snæfellsjökull). If you are a fan of Jules Verne, you might remember that this was the spot from which The Journey to the Center of the Earth began. Perhaps you are more of a New Age type, in which case you know that Snæfellsjökull is one of the seven major power centers in the world.

In Arnarstapi is a sculpture by Ragnar Kjartansson called Barður Snæfellsás. It represents a half-human, half-ogre who was written about in one of the Icelandic sagas.

There are some beautiful cliffs here, and the sea is an amazing shade of blue that reminds me of the Aegean Sea.

The village church has a scenic view.

Up the road a bit in an area called Lóndrangar, we stopped when we saw a sign that said "dead whale." We didn't see any whale, though. Turns out the sign was there from last year, when a sperm whale beached itself here and died. Anyway, there are some interesting rock pillars there.

Continuing our drive around the peninsula, we planned to have lunch in Hellissandur because the hotel/restaurant there is supposed to be open year-round, unlike most such establishments which close from September through May. Unfortunately, they were not open after all. Good thing we brought sandwiches. We ate them at a pretty beach called Skarðsvík.

As we followed the coast road eastward, we saw Iceland's most photographed mountain, Kirkjufell. Of course we had to take a photo.

Or two.

One of the fjords here on the northern coast of Snæfellsnes, called Kolgrafarfjörður, has been in the news lately due to massive herring die-offs. The authorities still don't know why thousands of herring were belly-up in the fjord. NPR did a story about it. During our visit, the fjörd reeked of dead fish, although the poor creatures were no longer floating in the water. They had been dumped into giant piles on the shore.

We followed that stinky site with another.

Fermented shark, known as hákarl, is a traditional Icelandic food. First it is buried in the ground for 6-12 weeks, and then it is hung up to dry for 4-5 months. One of the leading producers of hákarl is located here in Bjarnarhöfn. They let us look at their drying shed.

Mmm, mmm, don't that look appetizing?

Uh, no. Hey, at least you are not being exposed to the ammmonia stench! Count yourself lucky.

We finished our day trip in Stykkisholmur, where we enjoyed some cake at Sjávarpakkhusið. Alas, no photo of the cake, but here is the harbor, which we could see from our table.

Mt. Esja

A few weeks ago we decided to climb Mt. Esja, which we see every day from our window. We were lucky to be out there on a beautiful day, just a couple days before snow appeared atop the mountain!

The shot above was taken partway up the path. Our car is parked down by the road, which is that squiggly line near the water.

The next photo was taken a bit higher up, looking down.

Here you can see how steep and rocky the upper part of the mountain is.

We made it to the top after about 2 hours.

The marker at the top shows the relative position of neighboring mountains and towns.

Looking in the opposite direction, there is a mossy expanse. It's soft and cushy to walk on. Feels like walking on pillows.

We can see our apartment building from here. See it? You might have to squint.

Looking up from near the bottom, it doesn't look like a strenuous climb. Most of it was mild enough, although the rocky top part was a bit of a challenge. It helps to bring sandwiches.