Iceland V: Rainy Hike and the Ice Lagoon

Glaciers, waterfalls, volcanos, beaches--the countryside of Iceland is simply gorgeous, and so varied.  We traveled, on August 15, 2022, across the portion of southeast Iceland which has been one of the most isolated areas of the country.  We drove across the narrow band of land between the huge glaciers and volcanoes of Vatnajokull National Park and the sea.  When the volcanoes erupt under the ice, or when the calderas overflow, there are huge glacial floods which inundate the flood plain.  Until the 1970s, there were few bridges, and even now, there are few towns or farms.  

As shown at the bottom of this map, we drove from east of Vik to Hofn.  We were finally in the part of the country where the crowds who take day trips from Reykyavik can't reach. 

The landscape was beautiful but austere, with glaciers off the side of the road.

It was the kind of place where a small plane which crashed ten years ago still lies on the plain, covered with graffiti and noted in the guidebooks!

Our first stop was Skaftafell, where we tried to hike to the Svartifoss waterfall.  “It’s only a mile each way—a two hour hike.  We can do this,” Mike assured us.  Mike carried Calder straight uphill, through the light rain.  Dave began strong, up the steep incline, but then began falling behind.  Heidi and I hung back with Audrey, who, despite all entreaties, finally refused to move any further without being carried.  We made it almost halfway to Svartifoss, past a bridge over a roaring creek, many wildflowers, and up to a viewing platform over the valley. There was a rushing waterfall beside the viewing platform, although it wasn’t Svartifoss.  As our wet, bedraggled group assembled on the viewing platform, Mike agreed that Svartifoss would have to await another day.  “Sometimes you just have to know when to declare victory,” I told Heidi.  “We saw a beautiful creek, bridge, view over the valley, and waterfall, and that was wonderful and enough.”  Mike reminded himself that he had just finished two weeks of gorgeous, difficult hikes in Norway.  This was a family vacation, with different goals.

We were glad, anyway, that we weren't riding motorcycles!

We drove on to the Fjallsarion Ice Lagoon.  Heidi hiked up to the lagoon to take a look and then generously stayed with Audrey and Calder Burke while Dave, Mike, and I suited up and took a boat ride among the floating icebergs.

“This will be a highlight of the whole trip, I’m sure,” I said, as we rode, in heavy, inflatable coats, for 45 minutes around the glacial lake, next to icebergs of all sizes and shapes.  Some were blue and slick, others were snowy and matte, and still others were covered in black ash, from rolling through lava fields.  We sailed up to the foot of the glacier, from which the icebergs calved. 

 

Our next stop was Jokulsarion Glacial Lagoon, which was even more beautiful than Fjalisarion because its water was a deep blue, against the white icebergs, rather than brown, as at Fjalisarion. 

We hiked to an overlook, where Audrey industriously gathered rocks and put them into Mike’s jacket pocket.  Mike said that she has quite a collection, now, in the bottom of the car!    

We could see boats launching out into the frigid lagoon, as well as kayaks. 

We then crossed the road and hiked out to the Atlantic beach, where the icebergs from the glacial lagoon had sailed.  It was an incredible sight—dozens of icebergs on the black sand beach and floating in the ocean. “We have never seen anything like this before, and we will never see anything like it again,” Dave commented.

We had one more treat for the day.  Holn, where we stayed the night, is both a charming seaport and the langoustine capital of Iceland.  

Mike and I each ordered an expensive but luscious platter of langoustines, those small, lobster lookalikes at the best restaurant in town. They came simmering in a large metal bowl in a cream and butter sauce.  I must have eaten eight or ten of the langoustines—a feast!  Dave’s cod was also exceptional—moist and flaky, in a cream sauce.  Heidi is not a fish lover, and she was pleased with her vegetarian pie, covered with phyllo dough.  When dessert was rolled out, Audrey wandered from parent to grandparent, seeking spoonfuls of our chocolate/caramel/vanilla gooeyness.