Day 9 - Thursday, 29 July
Scribe of the Day: Don Frank
I don’t know what day it is, but it’s our last day of hiking and gorping around Iceland. You have heard clever, sometimes brilliant and always funny descriptions of the past eight days - which I couldn’t top. So I’ll simply recite some facts as I remember them.
A generous bag of gorp was distributed to each of us on Day 1 of our trip, for snacking on the trail. Art and I had brought along about a gallon of our own from home. Still, we had run out. As I recall, Don rationed his. As we neared the end of our journey, he shared it with us.
We drove beside a river for a long time - at least an hour - and saw some geese.
We also saw sheep, as usual, in groups of twos and threes – mothers with their babies. Once a thriving industry in Iceland, world demand for wool has decreased in recent years with the advent of such synthetic fabrics as fleece, and farmers are deliberately reducing the size of their flocks.
We didn’t see any minks but learned from Brjann how these rat-sized animals kill birds. Presumably these animals are too small to make mink coats or Icelanders would have created a classy souvenir industry.
Off and on we’d pass a turf house. We’d seen these simple structures nearly every day. These dwellings were a practical necessity for protection against the elements for centuries. Brjann told us of a family he knows; his friend is the youngest in the family, and is the only sibling not born in a turf house.
Today we happened by a hayfield, previously cut and baled, where, in about 45 seconds, field machinery transformed a bale of hay into an enormous marshmallow, the white plastic enclosing the bale and sealing it against moisture. At the end of the work session, dozens of bagged hay bales lay on the ground of the “marshmallow farm”. Brjann told us that more hay is now produced in Iceland than the animals need, so hay is an export crop to Italy.
Rereading Don’s contribution to this journal, I can see his face and recall his ever-present sense of humor. He played PR with the Big Boys in Hollywood nearly 50 years ago.
We also saw waterfalls (Goddfoss) into which an early lawmaker (year 1006) had thrown his pagan idols and launched Christianity.
When the local leader converted to Christianity, he threw his pagan idols into the waterfall as a sign to his people to follow him.
Presumably nobody has found the idols or they would have been reproduced in miniature to stick on refrigerator doors.
Some Icelandic ships are named after waterfalls instead of politicians. Apparently they aren’t as sophisticated as it otherwise appears.
This morning’s hike was in the volcanic area of Lake Myvatn where we struggled (in the wind) over volcanic rock and watched mud and steam bubbling from the earth.
The trip itinerary provides this description of our hikes on this day: “We find ourselves amidst contorted lava formations at Dimmuborgir (the Black Castles). Legends say the formations are actually female trolls frozen by the light of dawn after a long night of drink and debauchery. We make our way quietly through this bizarre landscape and then begin our ascent to the rim of the gigantic .6 mile wide Hverfell crater, born of an eruption 2500 years ago. After lunch, we explore the boiling mud pools, steaming fumaroles, and ochre colored hills of the Námaskard area. From there, a short drive takes us to the active Krafla volcanic zone, where a network of trails takes us across the still smoldering lava of Leirhnjúkur, created by the ‘Krafla fires’ of 1974 – 1984.
Most impressive, at least to me, is how the residents of this spectacular country have tapped the awesome energy below ground to provide heat and power. I can’ think of anywhere else on earth where people live so close to the terrible forces below ground and have the ingenuity and guts to use them so well.
The Lake Myvatn region has unusual ecological features. The lake’s average depth is about two feet. The water comes from subterranean fissures and is algae rich. Midge larvae eat the algae and then are then eaten by birds and fish in the lake. (There are 15 species of ducks nesting on Lake Myvatn, the most in the world). The midges die on the banks of the lake, providing good fertilizer.
Because the area lies in the rain shadow of an enormous icecap, the reserve experiences some of the finest weather in Iceland. In the summer it’s a popular vacationing and camping destination – in spite of the midges.
We stopped for lunch at a local restaurant where we enjoyed excellent burgers and fries and apple cake – familiar tastes far from home.
We pulled off the highway onto a dirt road for our final stop in this area. In the turnaround was a capped-off steam vent. It was part of a pipeline transporting geothermal steam to other areas. The purpose of the vent is to release unused steam. For 30 feet around the vent, the ground shook from the force of the escaping geothermal steam. Several in our group were nervous about being close to this natural power, so we left after only a few minutes
In the afternoon we visited Akureyri, a nice change of pace and a charming city spread across the end of a very long fjord. The houses are sparkling clean and dressed with flowers. It’s hard to believe we are so close to the Arctic Circle. There is an attractive and busy shopping street. On a corner is a large bookstore with a surprisingly big selection of English language books and newspapers. I bought a July 26 issue of the International Herald Tribune - couldn’t wait to find out what was happening in the rest of the world. Yet, as I write this the following day, I haven’t gotten around to reading part of the front page.
Leaving the Lake Myvatn area we traveled along a river. Brjann commented that rivers are described by the kind of fish caught in them – for example, a salmon river or a trout river. We watched a man catch a fish, then throw it back. Brjann told us that in one part of the river, the fishing signs face the river – because the fish are all literate.
Akureyri, population 15,000, is the largest town in the north of Iceland.
There’s something about Iceland - maybe it’s close-to-nature elements - that can make world events seem somehow less imperative.
Akureyri offered, as one of its local attractions, a penis museum. The proprietor had somehow collected the “members” from over 100 animals, none of them human. He planned to donate his own at death as one additional example. Art and I decided to forego this museum for the library, a contemporary building with lots of glass and a room for public Internet access. Every now and then I think maybe we should have visited the museum. You can find the Internet anywhere.
In Akureyri we sampled their delicious ice cream - introduced by Kathy - and ended with excellent cappucino. We drove to our night’s accommodations, a pleasant maybe-in-winter school building that regrettably lacked private bathrooms.
This was our second night of shared bathrooms. I was surprised that several of our group were uncomfortable to be sharing. I’m always grateful for toilet paper and a hot shower.
Dinner was a surprise; a charming little building across the road at the foot of green hills backed by a ragged ridge with pointed peaks. The dinner was excellent. Kathy had even arranged for me to enjoy a meat course. I do wonder how so many nice people can bring themselves to eat fish - do they really like the taste or is it just fashionable??
I agree with Don. I am not ordinarily a fish eater – except for shellfish like shrimp, crab and lobster – with an occasional foray into salmon. In Iceland, we had a fish entrée more often than not. At breakfast, fish was one of many offerings on the buffet table of the full Scandinavian breakfast. At dinner, not so many choices. Still, I learned that fish can be quite good if well cooked, well seasoned and completely deboned.
I’d like to end with praise for Kathy and Brjann who did everything possible to make this a memorable trip. And to thank everyone for being such pleasant companions. I’ll remember every step we took, at least until I get the last volcanic dust out of my shoes.