I was crowing the entire trip up til this point that I remembered to bring my long lens for puffin photos. Well, it turns out that I literally just do not ever look at my camera lenses that closely, because I did not, in fact, remember my longest lens.
I just have my walkabout lens that I nearly lost to the crack between the train and the platform in Japan.
Wah. At least it zooms. I GUESS. (Not as zoomy as my long lens).
(No, I will not be impulse buying a camera lens on this trip unlike that time in Scotland – Iceland is expensive and I do have one modicum of sense)
(Also there are no photography stores on this cliff where I have an average of 1.5 bars of phone signal)
Photography missteps aside, our Tuesday adventure is to Latrabjarg cliffs – home to lots and lots of nesting seabirds in the summer.
We’re here to see puffins and hopefully to not fall off the cliffs! I remember that the road to Latrabjarg sucked a lot before, like one turn being barely wide enough for two cars, squished between a cliff into the sea and a rock wall.
It’s been somewhat improved since 2017, but a section of the road is under construction, which apparently means that we need to drive on gigantic rocks.
This is Very Fun. My pathetic bladder is is jostled. Why do they just throw random rocks out and deem it a road? Surely I will not complain about our road construction ever again.
But we do arrive, after many moons in the car! You pull up to the base of the cliff and get out and look for them puffy boys! And they still have the super fun signs!
We are met with success, for we do find dem puffy bois. We see a handful of puffins nesting on the cliff, happily gliding up and down on the currents and taking care of their nests, along with a lot of other birds. We communally decide that baby puffins are called “pufflings,” because this is far cuter than chicks.
Ok, puffins aside, the cliffs are quite picturesque, too. It’s a nice but windy walk on the edge-ish of the cliffs, and it’s enjoyable to watch the birds come and go.
Also at Latrabjarg, you can take a picture with the westernmost part of Europe (ooh, ahh). Of course I do this thing, because I cannot resist the siren song of a kitschy tourist photo op.
And if you are like me, you might be wondering – hey what’s Greenland then???? Well, this rabbit hole lead to several other rabbit holes that ended up at “pangea proxima” (not a final fantasy move). tl;dr, iceland is Europe for a few reasons:
- Colonized by Europeans around the 870s and is mostly European vs Greenland’s native north american peoples and slight Danish colonizing population
- It is closer to Europe than Greenland is (duh? but also proximity doesn’t stop European colonizers)
- Iceland mainly sits on the Eurasian plate, vs Greenland being on some tectonic american sub-plate
Thanks for going on this adventure with me, it is very clear I have not brought any adhd meds on this trip. Google Pangea Proxima for a good time.
Before we go, we happen to look down and notice that there are some seals playing in the waves and seaweed way down below. Cute! (Really cursing my lens situation now)
Birded out, we have a grand time on the bumpy rock “road” on the way back. As of time of writing two days later, I can confirm that all of the tires still have air in them. Yeeehaw.
We make a stop at a local swimming pool with a hot spring, Krosslaug. It consists of two trailers that contain changing rooms, a nice pool, and a hot tub pool that overlooks the ocean.
We befriended some traveling Texans and somehow while away the time til 9pm. The only thing urging me out of the tub is my stomach starving!
Wednesday is our fjordy farewell 🙁 We take our time leaving because we have a loooooong day on the road ahead of us. At this point, Rhett and I have now officially caught our friends’ colds. Wah wah. But tragically for him, it will destroy him after Dyndjandifoss.
On our way out of town is a random little botanical garden, Skrúður. It’s the oldest botanical garden in Iceland, started by a local pastor’s love of gardening and at first functioned as a teaching garden. It has a whale jaw gate at one end, and is meticulously maintained for a garden out in the middle of actual nowhere. There are loads of plants, all labeled, and a little vegetable garden.
Next stop, Dynjandifoss – Iceland’s best waterfall. I’ve seen at least one gabillion waterfalls in Iceland, so I’m kind of a tourist expert: Dettifoss and Godafoss up north are great, but Dynjandi is sprawling, wide, and thunderous. It’s got several sub-falls at its base, and is well-worth the stop if you’re anywhere nearby.
Since 2017, they’ve put up various platforms and more of a trail so you can get closer without twisting all of your ankles. Annoyingly, there are actual tourists here (I have forgotten they exist), and I have no idea where they hark from – maybe tour boat day trips docked at Isafjordur? Not all trek to the top, which is still somewhat treacherous despite the newer path and viewing platform, and requires that you join the wetness protection program (rain jackets).
We ooh, we ahh. We linger. It’s stonning.
And then we get back in the car and trek up to the Museum of Icelandic Sorcery and Witchcraft, which is but a tiny detour off our main track back to Reykjavik, in the tiny town of Holmavik.
Remember how I said we were out in the middle of actual nowhere, with no close food? We finished off a lot of the food in the morning, leaving us well on the road to being hangry beasts.
Because it’s road construction season, we hit NEW road construction full of rocky shit-ass road (still better than the bird cliffs road boulders), which was not there when we came thru on Sunday, and there is only ONE road, so we absolutely came this way. Rhett is dying from his cold/disease. In the car, I consumed the remainder of the chips and the last two prins polos. Things were dire. By the time we arrive, we are starving.
Praise the lord for the sorcery cafe, attached to the Museum of Icelandic Sorcery and Witchcraft. And precisely because this is europe (see above notes about europe), the cafe is a good one. We pay for our $30 soup. I got a SandWich (which they also punned in Icelandic). We are no longer hangry. It is good.
The museum was informative, and talked about common types of magic, and how magic and sorcery was viewed, with witch scares/witch hunts peaking in the 1600s. Interestingly enough, most of the accused/burned at the stake were men – only one woman. Icelandic Sorcery used a lot of runes and spells and they ran the gamut from making someone else fart uncontrollably to trying to get rich or heal someone.
There are also NECROPANTS!!!! Necropants bring me chaotic joy. They’re a pair of pants made from the skin of a dead human (given willingly), and are allegedly a way you can make endless money. The pants don’t exist outside of legend (boo! ok – ew, gross, actually) but the museum of course has a replica. I will leave you to google this if you wish to see them.
Following our brush with necropants, we hop back in the car and make it back to Reykjavik for our last several days til we depart (wah wahhh).
