Go East, Young Man (or Woman), For A Great Time In Iceland

Heading Northeast from Jokulsarlon, it was foggy and felt very mystic, as we stumbled first upon one of the cooler black sand beaches in Iceland. I wish I could remember what it was called exactly, but it started out with large pebbles, looking like this:

and they just kept getting smaller and smaller, until you got out to the shore, where they took on the look and feel of fine sand.  

We collected bottles of the stuff, it was so pretty, and brought them home -- they are sitting on the desk as I type this. We continued northeast toward Hofn, our evening destination, skirting the perimeter of the vast Vatnajokull ice cap, which gave us scenes like these:

Naturally, we had to get out and explore.  One of the great things about hiking a bit in Iceland is that while there are no trees, the trails generally look like this:

With so many colors in the details, it is hard to take it all in.  Kudos to Kate, who took the pictures below, for capturing the wonder of looking down on an Icelandic trail.

We stopped in Hofn for the night, which is a great place to stop, as it is the langostino capital of Iceland (maybe the world) and we ate a bunch of them straight from the ocean for dinner. It was a tasty way to end a great day.

Following a good night's rest, we began one of our longer drives, all along the ins and outs of the east fjords. It was a part of the country that we thought we might skip, but that would have been a mistake.  The scenery is just beautiful.  After driving a ways in the morning, we stopped here, in a no name place, for lunch in our mobile home.  This is what a no name place looks like in Iceland:

The blue in the water had to be seen to be believed.  Cliff jumping, anyone?  Nate Brown, you know you would . . .

There were low clouds and mist all around, adding to the otherworldly aura of this place.

And then they would lift, and you would see this:

Or this:

And then it would close back in again, adding more mystery to the ever-present water falls along the way.

As evening approached, we decided to stop in a little town at the head of Reydarfjordur, to go for a swim.   Every little town in Iceland, it seems, has some version of this -- heated pools to bask in, along with a sauna, and a cold dipping pool that feels like an ice block (Keegan was the only one brave enough to plunge in -- I do think he must be part Viking). We had a delightful time, mingling with tourists from France, bemoaning jointly the way terrorist attacks (e.g. in Nice and the Bataclan attack) were changing our countries, filling them with fear and anger, leaving people less open and optimistic. That was the only sad part of the stay, though, as a hot water soak is good for anyone's soul, and the sound of kids on a water slide will almost always bring a smile.

Even thought it was getting late, we decided to make the dash over to Egilsstadir and then up over the mountain range to Seydisfjordur.  That turned out to be a great decision.

Here is what the road looked like on the way over, and the drive gave way to some of the most beautiful cloud colors I have ever seen, from a deep ice blue to sunset orange and back again. It felt wild and raw and simply amazing to watch this parade of light, all at around midnight, in a land of midnight sun.

We finally pulled away and began our descent into Seydisfjorder, which got a little dicey in the 1:00 am twilight, particularly when the fog and mist rolled in.

We made it down the winding road, pulled into town, and found a camp spot at around 2:00 a.m.  After too short a night, we woke up, did some laundry and wandered around tiny Seydisfjordur, one of the prettiest towns we saw in all of Iceland. Here are some of the scenes:

After grabbing a bite to eat, we headed out in to the desolate north, looking for our next Iceland adventure.