Iceland- Day 7

No luck with the weather.  If anything it is worse.  Cold, rainy, and (yes, Toby) windy.  Not quite as much wind as we encountered in Patagonia, but still gale force.  I also found out today that my Gortex boots and rain pants are no match for the Icelandic weather.

We left the sulfurous Ion Adventure Hotel 

to visit þingvellir (Thingvellir) National Park.  

Þingveallarvatn (Lake Thingvellir) lies at the southern end of  þingvellir N.P. It is the largest lake in Iceland at 32 sq miles.

At Þingvellir - literally "Parliament Plains" - the Alþing general assembly was established around 930 and continued to convene there until 1798. Major events in the history of Iceland have taken place at Þingvellir and therefore the place is held in high esteem by all Icelanders. Today Þingvellir is a protected national shrine. According to the law, passed in 1928, the protected area shall always be the property of the Icelandic nation, under the preservation of the Alþing.

Within the national park an area where the North American and the Eurasian tectonic plates meet. In the south, the plates inch past each other, but at Þingvellir, they break apart and the land between subsides.   This area is called the Almannagja Fault.

Away from the plate boundaries the activity is fairly constant, about two centimetres a year, but, in the rift zones themselves, tensional stress accumulates during a long period and is then released in a burst of activity when fracture boundaries are reached. The most recent burst of activity swept over Þingvellir in spring 1789.

From the Visitor’s Center, there are great views of the rift zone with the two continents clearly visible.  

                                       

The rain stopped briefly and we decided to walk down through the rift to the valley below.  Half way down, the weather started again turning bad, so Dave and I decided to run back to the car and drive it to the parking lot below (we thought).  We planned to meet Jeri and Molly at the lot with a back-up plan to meet at a small church that was near the parking lot (we thought).  We didn’t realize that getting to the lot required us to go all the way around the rift (several miles) and the church had no access from the lot.  By this time, the deluge had begun, and the ladies were gone.  On top of that, the hordes transported by bus from Reykjavik had descended and the area was now a mass of humanity.  We found a way to the church and they were not there. This is when we realized that the parking lot and church were on separate planets.  Jeri’s phone was off, so I couldn’t call.  Dave and I hoofed it back across the rift and searched for a pair of yellow sailing jackets (Molly was borrowing mine- her raincoat leaked worse than my rain pants).  

Fortunately, eagle-eyed Dave spotted them at about 1,000 yds., and we were able to intercept them.  We finally got back to the car, cold and wet, but reunited.

Given the abysmal weather, we decided to skip the hike to another waterfall and to the  Alþing.

Instead, we began our drive to the Snæffelsnes peninsula, just north of Reykjavik. 

Eider ducks

Snæffelsnes is a 100km long peninsula packed with fjords, sea cliffs, black beaches, and a volcano covered by the Snæffelsnesjokull glacier.  The glacier and volcano were the inspiration for Jules Verne’s Journey to the Center of the Earth.  The drive took us past more waterfalls, 

farms with sheep 

and Icelandic horses. Icelandic horses are a distinct breed that descended from horses brought here by the Norse settlers in the 9^th and 10^th Centuries.  Importation of any horses is prohibited in Iceland, assuring that the breed will remain pure.  We stopped at a group of these horses that were near a roadside turnout for Dave to visit with them, 

until we realized that amongst them Donald Trump was hiding!

The "Donald"

Even in the rain the drive was beautiful.  We drove past several fjords and crossed one large one via a 6 km tunnel.  Once on the Snæffelsnes peninsula, the traffic became extremely sparse, even by NH standards. We stopped at Stykkisholmur, a quaint seaside village at the northeastern part of the peninsula.  

The wind here was fierce and combined with the rain, we needed something hot to warm us.  We tried a restaurant recommended by many for their seafood soup, but we were a bit too late with the entire restaurant filled with some tour group.  One of the waitresses there suggested an alternative down by the docks, so we gave it a try.  Best seafood soup any of us ever had (except Jeri’s, of course). 

Warmed and stuffed and with a short break in the rain, we hiked to the top of Sugandisey, an island with tall basalt columns that protects Stykkisholmur’s harbor from weather.  The lighthouse dates to 1948 and was lit by gas until it was converted to electric in 1995. 

It was connected to the land in 1989.  It overlooks Br­­eiðafjörður (the fjord) that contains hundreds of tiny islands that farmers use to graze sheep (they certainly aren’t getting away).   There were great views of the town which has been used for several movie sets including, most recently, Walter Mitty. 

With another wave of rain fast approaching, and the wind counteracting our warmth from our soup, we hightailed it down the mountain to the car. 

Our last stop before finding our hotel was Kirkjufellsfoss, a pretty two-tiered waterfall and adjacent mountain.  

A little sun would have made it spectacular.  We finally found out the reason for so many waterfalls in Iceland. Iceland, in geologic terms is very young, a mere 13 million years old (unless you are a creationist- then I can’t explain the falls).  There are major icefields all over Iceland and melt from the icefields created hundreds and hundreds of rivers.  Over time, these rivers will cause enough erosion to cut gentle valleys, but now, the melt has only the steep drop offs to encounter, thus the waterfalls. This explanation doesn’t work if the earth is 5,000-6,000 years old.  Sorry creationists.

Our hotel was pretty basic, but interesting.  We were sent a front door code and room code via email.  The room was pre-paid, and there wasn’t a soul at the reception desk, or anywhere else.  Shades of the future. 

Weather predictions for tomorrow don’t seem to be much better.  Could this be the beginning of 40 days and nights?  Where is Noah when we need him.