Iceland summer after the crash
Jun 21st, 2009, 09:06 AM
#1
Iceland summer after the crash
With the crash of the pound against the Euro finding a good holiday was going to be difficult. Having visited Hungary, Czech, Norway, Turkey etc only really Iceland hit the bill and their currency was hit even harder than the pound. Planning the week was difficult, the country is the size of England but only 300k people and web sites focused to allow them to manage the visitor not us to manage ourselves.
Mrs Bilbo put in loads of research and built a programme that used B&Bs and clever ways to save on transport to build a cost effective visit.
I plan to issue this report in roughly daily chunks. I promise no rotten shark, no whaleburgers and no seal flippers.
Mrs Bilbo put in loads of research and built a programme that used B&Bs and clever ways to save on transport to build a cost effective visit.
I plan to issue this report in roughly daily chunks. I promise no rotten shark, no whaleburgers and no seal flippers.
Jun 21st, 2009, 09:53 AM
#3
Here's a trip report on our week in Iceland in June 2009, as we didn't find much in the forum (with a few exceptions, notably the informative and, at times hilarious, Round Iceland with 2 Cucumbers). It is written by Mrs Bilbo, who has more patience for this sort of thing than I do. First, a few comments on why we chose to do what we did.
We chose Iceland because it has always seemed interesting, but until the recent banking collapse had been an expensive destination. We can cope with expensive if the quality is high, but too many of the travellers' reports we heard were of the "it cost a fortune, the food was disgusting and we ended up in tiny hotel rooms with shared bathrooms" variety. We were determined to avoid that - we wanted reasonable comfort and to see and do a reasonable amount, but without breaking the bank. With some fairly detailed planning, and booking 2-4 months in advance, it proved possible.
We chose to go for a week only, as Mrs Bilbo isn't a big lover of the great outdoors unless it is warm and dry. Iceland's average maximum temperature in June is about 10oC (50oF) and it rains a lot, so a week seemed enough. The next decision was where to go. All flights from the UK go to Reykjavik (or rather, Keflavik airport, xx miles to the west), so it seemed logical to spend some time in the capital. Reading all the guidebooks, a week in Reykjavik would be too long, but trying to cover the whole island (eg by driving the Ring Road or taking the buses that do it) would mean we were constantly on the move with no chance to linger. So we booked our June flights from Manchester with Iceland Air in February (c £210 each) and then set about planning what we were going to do when we got there. It's unusual for us to plan so thoroughly and so far ahead, but necessary in this case as the Icelandic summer is so short that accommodation and everything else quickly gets booked up.
We quickly decided we wouldn't hire a car. Many of the roads are poor quality gravel affairs, and weather conditions can be such that cars are blown off the road and fords become uncrossable for hours or days. Car hire is very expensive, reflecting the high chance of damage caused by foreigners unused to such conditions. On the whole, it seemed better to leave the driving to the bus company, with both of us then able to look at the passing scenery.
After researching the bus timetables, we found that it wasn't going to be possible to do more than one trip out from Reykjavik, staying a couple of nights. Going to somewhere, moving on somewhere else and then returning to the city seemed a logistical nightmare, particularly in view of the need to build some slack into the programme to allow for bad weather. Plus, the distances are large and the roads bad, meaning journey times are long. We didn't really want to spend a couple of days of our precious week sitting on buses, particulalrly as Mrs B gets travel sick on winding roads and hills.
We looked into spending a couple of nights in the fiord area of the North West, but it would have meant a (5) hour journey with a change of bus in each direction to Isafjothur and there isn't a lot to do there unless you are a keen birdwatcher. Akureyri looked nice, with the possibility of visiting Lake Myvatn from there if the weather was good. But Mrs B couldn't bear the prospect of a 6 hour bus trip each way, and it did seem a waste of time even if the views of the interior would have been good. We were resigned to going places within easy reach of Reykjavik when we found that Air Iceland's internet fares are quite reasonable if booked at least 2 months ahead. At Easter, 2 months before we went, we managed to book a return flight from Reykjavik City Airport to Akureyri for about £50 each, staying there for 2 nights in the middle of our trip. When I checked the same flights a couple of weeks before we went, they cost more than double what we paid, so the moral is, book early.
Next we planned a shorter, one night trip out of Reykjavik. We thought of going to Hvolsvollur to visit the Saga Centre, returning via the geothermal town of Hveragerthi or vice versa, but no matter how we tried to do it, the bus schedules conspired against it. And the buses aren't cheap - Hvolsvollur return for 2 would have cost about £60, more with an added stop in Hveragerthi. In the end we decided to ditch Hvolsvollur, which doesn't appear to have much apart from the Saga Centre, and concentrate on Hveragerthi where there is quite a lot to do - and it's closer to Reykjavik. Mrs B convinced me that riding would be a good way to see some of the countryside in the area - despite the fact that neither of us has been on a horse for 20 years and we weren't exactly competent riders even then. Once I'd agreed, against my better judgement, she found a new hotel-cum-riding stables 2km outside Hveragerthi called Eldhestar, which does daily pick-ups from Reykjavik for riders. A few exchanges of emails later and we were booked in for the night before our mid afternoon flight to Akureyri, with an 8.30am pick up from our hotel in Reykjavik and a morning ride, then a return by minibus to Reykjavik the following day with that morning's riders. This meant we no longer had to try and decipher the bus timetables, although Hveragerthi is on the Ring Road and reachable by both the long distance buses and the Straeto city buses.
We chose Iceland because it has always seemed interesting, but until the recent banking collapse had been an expensive destination. We can cope with expensive if the quality is high, but too many of the travellers' reports we heard were of the "it cost a fortune, the food was disgusting and we ended up in tiny hotel rooms with shared bathrooms" variety. We were determined to avoid that - we wanted reasonable comfort and to see and do a reasonable amount, but without breaking the bank. With some fairly detailed planning, and booking 2-4 months in advance, it proved possible.
We chose to go for a week only, as Mrs Bilbo isn't a big lover of the great outdoors unless it is warm and dry. Iceland's average maximum temperature in June is about 10oC (50oF) and it rains a lot, so a week seemed enough. The next decision was where to go. All flights from the UK go to Reykjavik (or rather, Keflavik airport, xx miles to the west), so it seemed logical to spend some time in the capital. Reading all the guidebooks, a week in Reykjavik would be too long, but trying to cover the whole island (eg by driving the Ring Road or taking the buses that do it) would mean we were constantly on the move with no chance to linger. So we booked our June flights from Manchester with Iceland Air in February (c £210 each) and then set about planning what we were going to do when we got there. It's unusual for us to plan so thoroughly and so far ahead, but necessary in this case as the Icelandic summer is so short that accommodation and everything else quickly gets booked up.
We quickly decided we wouldn't hire a car. Many of the roads are poor quality gravel affairs, and weather conditions can be such that cars are blown off the road and fords become uncrossable for hours or days. Car hire is very expensive, reflecting the high chance of damage caused by foreigners unused to such conditions. On the whole, it seemed better to leave the driving to the bus company, with both of us then able to look at the passing scenery.
After researching the bus timetables, we found that it wasn't going to be possible to do more than one trip out from Reykjavik, staying a couple of nights. Going to somewhere, moving on somewhere else and then returning to the city seemed a logistical nightmare, particularly in view of the need to build some slack into the programme to allow for bad weather. Plus, the distances are large and the roads bad, meaning journey times are long. We didn't really want to spend a couple of days of our precious week sitting on buses, particulalrly as Mrs B gets travel sick on winding roads and hills.
We looked into spending a couple of nights in the fiord area of the North West, but it would have meant a (5) hour journey with a change of bus in each direction to Isafjothur and there isn't a lot to do there unless you are a keen birdwatcher. Akureyri looked nice, with the possibility of visiting Lake Myvatn from there if the weather was good. But Mrs B couldn't bear the prospect of a 6 hour bus trip each way, and it did seem a waste of time even if the views of the interior would have been good. We were resigned to going places within easy reach of Reykjavik when we found that Air Iceland's internet fares are quite reasonable if booked at least 2 months ahead. At Easter, 2 months before we went, we managed to book a return flight from Reykjavik City Airport to Akureyri for about £50 each, staying there for 2 nights in the middle of our trip. When I checked the same flights a couple of weeks before we went, they cost more than double what we paid, so the moral is, book early.
Next we planned a shorter, one night trip out of Reykjavik. We thought of going to Hvolsvollur to visit the Saga Centre, returning via the geothermal town of Hveragerthi or vice versa, but no matter how we tried to do it, the bus schedules conspired against it. And the buses aren't cheap - Hvolsvollur return for 2 would have cost about £60, more with an added stop in Hveragerthi. In the end we decided to ditch Hvolsvollur, which doesn't appear to have much apart from the Saga Centre, and concentrate on Hveragerthi where there is quite a lot to do - and it's closer to Reykjavik. Mrs B convinced me that riding would be a good way to see some of the countryside in the area - despite the fact that neither of us has been on a horse for 20 years and we weren't exactly competent riders even then. Once I'd agreed, against my better judgement, she found a new hotel-cum-riding stables 2km outside Hveragerthi called Eldhestar, which does daily pick-ups from Reykjavik for riders. A few exchanges of emails later and we were booked in for the night before our mid afternoon flight to Akureyri, with an 8.30am pick up from our hotel in Reykjavik and a morning ride, then a return by minibus to Reykjavik the following day with that morning's riders. This meant we no longer had to try and decipher the bus timetables, although Hveragerthi is on the Ring Road and reachable by both the long distance buses and the Straeto city buses.
Jun 21st, 2009, 09:54 AM
#4
Before settling on Eldhestar and Hveragerthi, we'd tried to find Iceland Farm Holidays accommodation that was reachable without a car. The brochure and website don't have adequate descriptions, or maps, so we sent an email asking for suggestions of farm B&Bs within 1km or so of a bus stop and no more than a couple of hours from Reykjavik. We got a speedy but unhelpful reply with no suggestions at all. This typified our experience of the planning process - you really have to work at getting the information you need, in a way that is most unexpected for Europe (or any western country, especially one where English is widely spoken).
The Golden Circle Tour (Geysir, Gulfoss, Thingvellir) is reckoned to be essential. That meant, without a car, we'd have to book a tour. We seldom do organised tours, and Mrs B was anxious to avoid sick-making big coaches, so we looked for someone taking smaller groups. Various people on Trip Advisor rave about Icelandhorizon.is, so we booked that for our first full day in Iceland. At 7,900 krone pp, it was also cheaper than most of the competiton, but the price has gone up to 8,900 now.
The final (almost) thing to book was our accommodation in Reykjavik. We don't tend to spend much waking time in our hotel, so we didn't want to spend a lot, but we did want a bit of space (Iceland is notorious for the smallness of its hotel rooms), a reasonably central location, Wi-Fi and, ideally, tea/coffee making facilities (as we weren't going to lug a kettle around with us on minibuses and domestic aircraft). It also had to be somewhere we could access in the small hours of the morning (our flight was due at Keflavik at 11.30pm), which ruled out some of the guesthouses. After much research, we settled on the Einholt Guesthouse, which is relatively new and looked clean and modern in its web photos. Mrs B, always one for a bargain, found it was cheaper to book it through hostelbookers.com rather than direct at stay.is. She booked us in for our first 3 and last nights at 13,400 (about £79) per night.
Having booked the Einholt, we emailed Iceland Horizon and Eldhestar to tell them where to pick us up for our trips, then booked a pick-up to the airport on our final day, via the Blue Lagoon - another essential visit. There are at least 3 companies offering such trips on the way back to the airport (more offer Blue Lagoon visits on the way to Reykjavik from Keflavick - not an option when your flight land shortly before midnight) but only one with timings that fitted well with our 5.30pm departure. We booked with Iceland Excursions for €47.50 for 2, (including) Blue Lagoon entrance - not the cheapest option, but the only convenient one for us.
So, that was our plan: arrival late on a Friday night, stay at the Einholt Guesthouse in Reykjavik for 3 nights, Golden Circle tour on Sunday, leave Monday morning to ride at Edelhestar in Hveragerthi, Monday night at Edelhestar, return to Reykjavik Tuesday lunchtime, flight to Akureyri Tuesday afternoon, 2 nights there before flying back to Reykjavik for a final night at the Einholt, then to the airport on Friday via the Blue Lagoon. Somewhat more structured than most of our holidays, but there was some free time in the programme.
A funny thing about booking things in Iceland was almost no one wanted payment upfront, even a deposit. Grayline wanted full payment when booking the Blue Lagoon / airport trip, we had to pay Hostelbookers a 10% deposit by credit card (in Sterling) for each night, and the Akureyri Guesthouse wanted a credit card (but didn't take a payment until we presented the card on checking in), but that was it. Everyone else said, pay us when you get here, just let us know a couple of days before if you need to cancel. With the exchange rate somewhat volatile, we would have been quite happy to fix our outgoings by paying in advance, but instead we watched the rate like hawks ready to buy krone immediately if they started to become more expensive. In the end we left it until a few days before we went and got almost 190 krone per £ compared with 165/£ when we bought our flights 4 months earlier.
Overall impressions: wonderful scenery; lousy weather interspersed with sunny periods; odd food; great (and cheap) spas; a surfeit of Lopi knitwear; unusual jewellery and other designs; few trees;
Highlights: Gullfoss; riding Icelandic horses; the (National) Museum; a sunny day in Reykjavik; soaking in hot water;
Lowlights: horizontal rain and biting winds; riding Icelandic horses;
The Golden Circle Tour (Geysir, Gulfoss, Thingvellir) is reckoned to be essential. That meant, without a car, we'd have to book a tour. We seldom do organised tours, and Mrs B was anxious to avoid sick-making big coaches, so we looked for someone taking smaller groups. Various people on Trip Advisor rave about Icelandhorizon.is, so we booked that for our first full day in Iceland. At 7,900 krone pp, it was also cheaper than most of the competiton, but the price has gone up to 8,900 now.
The final (almost) thing to book was our accommodation in Reykjavik. We don't tend to spend much waking time in our hotel, so we didn't want to spend a lot, but we did want a bit of space (Iceland is notorious for the smallness of its hotel rooms), a reasonably central location, Wi-Fi and, ideally, tea/coffee making facilities (as we weren't going to lug a kettle around with us on minibuses and domestic aircraft). It also had to be somewhere we could access in the small hours of the morning (our flight was due at Keflavik at 11.30pm), which ruled out some of the guesthouses. After much research, we settled on the Einholt Guesthouse, which is relatively new and looked clean and modern in its web photos. Mrs B, always one for a bargain, found it was cheaper to book it through hostelbookers.com rather than direct at stay.is. She booked us in for our first 3 and last nights at 13,400 (about £79) per night.
Having booked the Einholt, we emailed Iceland Horizon and Eldhestar to tell them where to pick us up for our trips, then booked a pick-up to the airport on our final day, via the Blue Lagoon - another essential visit. There are at least 3 companies offering such trips on the way back to the airport (more offer Blue Lagoon visits on the way to Reykjavik from Keflavick - not an option when your flight land shortly before midnight) but only one with timings that fitted well with our 5.30pm departure. We booked with Iceland Excursions for €47.50 for 2, (including) Blue Lagoon entrance - not the cheapest option, but the only convenient one for us.
So, that was our plan: arrival late on a Friday night, stay at the Einholt Guesthouse in Reykjavik for 3 nights, Golden Circle tour on Sunday, leave Monday morning to ride at Edelhestar in Hveragerthi, Monday night at Edelhestar, return to Reykjavik Tuesday lunchtime, flight to Akureyri Tuesday afternoon, 2 nights there before flying back to Reykjavik for a final night at the Einholt, then to the airport on Friday via the Blue Lagoon. Somewhat more structured than most of our holidays, but there was some free time in the programme.
A funny thing about booking things in Iceland was almost no one wanted payment upfront, even a deposit. Grayline wanted full payment when booking the Blue Lagoon / airport trip, we had to pay Hostelbookers a 10% deposit by credit card (in Sterling) for each night, and the Akureyri Guesthouse wanted a credit card (but didn't take a payment until we presented the card on checking in), but that was it. Everyone else said, pay us when you get here, just let us know a couple of days before if you need to cancel. With the exchange rate somewhat volatile, we would have been quite happy to fix our outgoings by paying in advance, but instead we watched the rate like hawks ready to buy krone immediately if they started to become more expensive. In the end we left it until a few days before we went and got almost 190 krone per £ compared with 165/£ when we bought our flights 4 months earlier.
Overall impressions: wonderful scenery; lousy weather interspersed with sunny periods; odd food; great (and cheap) spas; a surfeit of Lopi knitwear; unusual jewellery and other designs; few trees;
Highlights: Gullfoss; riding Icelandic horses; the (National) Museum; a sunny day in Reykjavik; soaking in hot water;
Lowlights: horizontal rain and biting winds; riding Icelandic horses;
Jun 21st, 2009, 03:32 PM
#5
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Thank you thank you for a great report! Our family (husband is of Icelandic background but has never wanted to go there) has decided to do a last minute trip there in late July. We just went and bought some books and we going to hunker down tonight to start looking so your thoughts are a great place to start. Keep any others coming!
Jun 21st, 2009, 03:54 PM
#6
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Glad to read your report, bilboburgler! 'Tis true, we do need more Iceland representation. It's been a while since my last trip there (alas) but I wanted to add this link in for dutyfree--it will probably still apply for the most part:
http://www.fodors.com/community/euro...in-iceland.cfm
And some pictures. too: http://travel.webshots.com/album/569734296LtBiWA
(sorry to piggyback here, but the 100 best Iceland hasn't been reachable by search, and I wanted dutyfree to have some more to read!)
http://www.fodors.com/community/euro...in-iceland.cfm
And some pictures. too: http://travel.webshots.com/album/569734296LtBiWA
(sorry to piggyback here, but the 100 best Iceland hasn't been reachable by search, and I wanted dutyfree to have some more to read!)
Jun 22nd, 2009, 01:29 PM
#8
Glad to hear you're planning a trip, dutyfree. We were surprised how few tourists there were there, despite the favourable exchange rate. Here's Mrs B's report on Day 1.
Saturday 6th June 2009 (Day 1) – 2 bedtimes and a sunny day
Our 10pm flight from Manchester was delayed by two and a half hours, so we landed at Keflavik airport at 2am local time (3am BST) - not a good time to arrive anywhere, even if it was broad daylight. Fortunately, I'd clicked on the FAQ on the Flybus website that asked “What happens if my flight is delayed?” so I knew that a Flybus leaves Keflavik 30-40 minutes after every flight, no matter whether or not it is on time. This was a relief, as taxis are rather expensive in Iceland and Keflavik is some 50km from the centre of Reykjavik.
The airport was deserted apart from our fellow travellers from Manchester and we were soon in the Arrivals lounge. The Flybus desk is to the right as you emerge into the lounge from Customs, and it was manned by a young woman who managed to be cheerful even at that hour. We bought our tickets and she told us the bus would leave from right outside the nearby door at 2.45am. We filled in the spare 20 minutes by browsing a well-stocked rack of tourist information leaflets, finding maps and booklets on all the areas we were planning to visit: Reykjavik, Hveragerthi, Akureyri, Myvatn (possibly) and the Blue Lagoon.
On the bus to the main BSI bus station in Reykjavik, Bilbo snoozed while I looked at the scenery. It just didn't feel like 3 in the morning when the sun was so high in the sky, and despite about 2 hours sleep on the plane I felt reasonably awake. After some miles of moon-like landscape which I later learnt was lava fields, we started to reach factories and houses. Reykjavik is a large, low density sprawl of a city. We arrived at BSI at 3.30 and the bus continued to certain hotels and guesthouses while some passengers transferred to minibuses for their onward journeys to other hotels. We had opted to walk to the Einholt Guesthouse, as it was only about a mile and I like to keep my time in buses and coaches to a minimum. It was overcast and drizzling, but not too unpleasant.
We reached the Einholt (pronounced “Ainholt”) and were relieved to find the door to the street unlocked. The keybox outside the locked, internal door opened when we used the code we had received by email, and inside was a key that let us in the main door. On the deserted reception desk was just one key – no note with our name on it as we'd been promised. Fortunately, it did have a tag with the room number on it, which started with a 1. We crept along the ground floor corridor and found those rooms started with a 2. I tiptoed up the stairs and found rooms starting with a 3. So we explored the ground floor again and found a set of descending stairs at the far end. There, thank goodness, was our room. We were half expecting to find it already occupied, but it was clean, the bed made up and there was food in the fridge. (At the Einholt, they provide the makings of breakfast for you to eat in your own room.) It was 4am and we went straight to bed. For the first time that day.
We woke at about 9 feeling refreshed. Opening the blinds, we saw a cloudless blue sky. The fridge in our kitchenette held milk, fruit juice, ham, cheese, butter and jam, and there was also a giant loaf of sliced bread, 2 jars containing cereals, and good quality teabags and instant coffee. We had a leisurely breakfast and then set off in the sunshine for some sightseeing.
Despite the sun there was a cool wind and we were glad of the ski jackets we had taken. Even on a sunny day in June, the temperature was only about 12oC. We headed for the famous Hallsgrimskirkja church and found, to our disappointment, that the distinctive tower was almost completely hidden by scaffolding. No matter, the inside was still worth a look. A middle aged couple came in while were admiring the rock crystal font and the 5,275 organ pipes. He sat down at the keyboard while she took out some music. A moment later, we and the other half dozen or so visitors in the church were treated to a private vocal recital with organ accompaniment. After that, we took the lift up the 8 floors to the top of the tower for a modest fee and were pleased to find that there was still a view, albeit a restricted one, through the scaffolding and netting covering it. On such a clear day, we could see the harbour, mountains, the Tjorn pond, the city airport and the whole city laid out around us.
We spent the rest of the day browsing the shops, exploring the city centre, the harbour area (where we partook of, supposedly, the best hotdogs in Reykjavik at Baejarins Bestu - they weren't worth making a detour for, although I'm no hotdog aficionado) and the Torn. We visited the weekend fleamarket, where we didn't find anything we wanted to buy but were amazed by the bluey-green spotted seabird eggs (Razorbill? Guillemot?) being offered for sale in the food section. Slightly more exotic than hens' eggs. We walked over to the National Museum and spent a couple of hours there learning about the settlement of Iceland from the 9th Century. When we'd finished, it was still warm enough to sit outside for a coffee in the museum cafe – provided we kept our skiing jackets on.
In the early evening, it was still sunny and pleasant for a walk along the waterfront. We found the supposedly haunted Hofthi house, where the 1986 meeting between Gorbachev and Reagan was held, an event generally held to have been the beginning of the end of the Cold War. Alas, the house is closed most of the time, although publicly owned, and we had to content ourselves with a fruitless look for ghosts through the windows.
By 8pm we were starting to feel tired and we had to be up in time for our Golden Circle tour on Sunday, so we headed to a vegetarian cafe called A Naestu Grossum to eat. (We aren't vegetarians, but neither are we big meat eaters. And neither of us likes lamb, an Icelandic staple.) You choose several different dishes at a counter from half a dozen or so available, and have them all on the same plate. Like most people we met in Reykjavik, the guy serving the food was able to describe everything in perfect English, even the more esoteric ingredients like lemongrass and sweet potatoes. After a tasty and filling meal at a very reasonable price, we strolled back to our guesthouse and were tucked up in bed by 10pm watching old Jeeves and Wooster DVDs. The Einholt's rooms are equipped with TVs with an integral DVD player, and we'd come prepared with a stack of the free DVDs that come with newspapers from time to time.
Saturday 6th June 2009 (Day 1) – 2 bedtimes and a sunny day
Our 10pm flight from Manchester was delayed by two and a half hours, so we landed at Keflavik airport at 2am local time (3am BST) - not a good time to arrive anywhere, even if it was broad daylight. Fortunately, I'd clicked on the FAQ on the Flybus website that asked “What happens if my flight is delayed?” so I knew that a Flybus leaves Keflavik 30-40 minutes after every flight, no matter whether or not it is on time. This was a relief, as taxis are rather expensive in Iceland and Keflavik is some 50km from the centre of Reykjavik.
The airport was deserted apart from our fellow travellers from Manchester and we were soon in the Arrivals lounge. The Flybus desk is to the right as you emerge into the lounge from Customs, and it was manned by a young woman who managed to be cheerful even at that hour. We bought our tickets and she told us the bus would leave from right outside the nearby door at 2.45am. We filled in the spare 20 minutes by browsing a well-stocked rack of tourist information leaflets, finding maps and booklets on all the areas we were planning to visit: Reykjavik, Hveragerthi, Akureyri, Myvatn (possibly) and the Blue Lagoon.
On the bus to the main BSI bus station in Reykjavik, Bilbo snoozed while I looked at the scenery. It just didn't feel like 3 in the morning when the sun was so high in the sky, and despite about 2 hours sleep on the plane I felt reasonably awake. After some miles of moon-like landscape which I later learnt was lava fields, we started to reach factories and houses. Reykjavik is a large, low density sprawl of a city. We arrived at BSI at 3.30 and the bus continued to certain hotels and guesthouses while some passengers transferred to minibuses for their onward journeys to other hotels. We had opted to walk to the Einholt Guesthouse, as it was only about a mile and I like to keep my time in buses and coaches to a minimum. It was overcast and drizzling, but not too unpleasant.
We reached the Einholt (pronounced “Ainholt”) and were relieved to find the door to the street unlocked. The keybox outside the locked, internal door opened when we used the code we had received by email, and inside was a key that let us in the main door. On the deserted reception desk was just one key – no note with our name on it as we'd been promised. Fortunately, it did have a tag with the room number on it, which started with a 1. We crept along the ground floor corridor and found those rooms started with a 2. I tiptoed up the stairs and found rooms starting with a 3. So we explored the ground floor again and found a set of descending stairs at the far end. There, thank goodness, was our room. We were half expecting to find it already occupied, but it was clean, the bed made up and there was food in the fridge. (At the Einholt, they provide the makings of breakfast for you to eat in your own room.) It was 4am and we went straight to bed. For the first time that day.
We woke at about 9 feeling refreshed. Opening the blinds, we saw a cloudless blue sky. The fridge in our kitchenette held milk, fruit juice, ham, cheese, butter and jam, and there was also a giant loaf of sliced bread, 2 jars containing cereals, and good quality teabags and instant coffee. We had a leisurely breakfast and then set off in the sunshine for some sightseeing.
Despite the sun there was a cool wind and we were glad of the ski jackets we had taken. Even on a sunny day in June, the temperature was only about 12oC. We headed for the famous Hallsgrimskirkja church and found, to our disappointment, that the distinctive tower was almost completely hidden by scaffolding. No matter, the inside was still worth a look. A middle aged couple came in while were admiring the rock crystal font and the 5,275 organ pipes. He sat down at the keyboard while she took out some music. A moment later, we and the other half dozen or so visitors in the church were treated to a private vocal recital with organ accompaniment. After that, we took the lift up the 8 floors to the top of the tower for a modest fee and were pleased to find that there was still a view, albeit a restricted one, through the scaffolding and netting covering it. On such a clear day, we could see the harbour, mountains, the Tjorn pond, the city airport and the whole city laid out around us.
We spent the rest of the day browsing the shops, exploring the city centre, the harbour area (where we partook of, supposedly, the best hotdogs in Reykjavik at Baejarins Bestu - they weren't worth making a detour for, although I'm no hotdog aficionado) and the Torn. We visited the weekend fleamarket, where we didn't find anything we wanted to buy but were amazed by the bluey-green spotted seabird eggs (Razorbill? Guillemot?) being offered for sale in the food section. Slightly more exotic than hens' eggs. We walked over to the National Museum and spent a couple of hours there learning about the settlement of Iceland from the 9th Century. When we'd finished, it was still warm enough to sit outside for a coffee in the museum cafe – provided we kept our skiing jackets on.
In the early evening, it was still sunny and pleasant for a walk along the waterfront. We found the supposedly haunted Hofthi house, where the 1986 meeting between Gorbachev and Reagan was held, an event generally held to have been the beginning of the end of the Cold War. Alas, the house is closed most of the time, although publicly owned, and we had to content ourselves with a fruitless look for ghosts through the windows.
By 8pm we were starting to feel tired and we had to be up in time for our Golden Circle tour on Sunday, so we headed to a vegetarian cafe called A Naestu Grossum to eat. (We aren't vegetarians, but neither are we big meat eaters. And neither of us likes lamb, an Icelandic staple.) You choose several different dishes at a counter from half a dozen or so available, and have them all on the same plate. Like most people we met in Reykjavik, the guy serving the food was able to describe everything in perfect English, even the more esoteric ingredients like lemongrass and sweet potatoes. After a tasty and filling meal at a very reasonable price, we strolled back to our guesthouse and were tucked up in bed by 10pm watching old Jeeves and Wooster DVDs. The Einholt's rooms are equipped with TVs with an integral DVD player, and we'd come prepared with a stack of the free DVDs that come with newspapers from time to time.
Jun 23rd, 2009, 12:59 PM
#9
Sunday (Day 2) – the Golden Circle, lupins and mothballs
We we ready and waiting in the guesthouse reception at 8.30am, as instructed by Iceland Horizon, and the guide, Othinn, arrived shortly afterwards. It was raining fairly steadily, so we took waterproofs with us. As we climbed into the minibus and exchanged Good Mornings with a couple from the East Midlands and another couple from California, Othinn told us that there wasn't anyone else to pick up – Iceland Horizon had a second, larger coach doing the Golden Circle today, but it was just the 6 of us in this one. So we spread ourselves out a bit and tried to enjoy the rather wet drive to Thingvellir, our first stop.
En route, Othinn donned a fancy Bluetooth headset so he could be heard clearly throughout the vehicle and then invited us to ask him whatever we wanted about Iceland. So we pumped him for information on all manner of subjects, from the language, history and culture to the geology, flora and fauna of his native land He was remarkably well informed and answered every question the 6 of us posed, often providing statistics and other hard facts, like the number of child drownings per annum before and after the introduction of a policy of making proficient swimming a condition of high school graduation. This educational process continued all day and certainly made the drive between the various stages of the Golden Circle go quickly. It almost made me forget to be travel sick, but the winding road between Thingvellir and Laugarvatn was a bit of a trial.
Anyway, we stopped first at Thingvellir, the site of the first European parliament which was held annually for 900-odd years. Here we visited an interpretation centre and then walked down the rift between the North American and European tectonic plates, along a path across three bridges over the lake to where the bus met us near the church. It was pretty wet, and Othinn did say anyone who wanted to could stay in the bus, but the Leicester chap announced that he couldn't come to Thingvellir and then not see it properly, which set the standard for the rest of us. The Californian woman looked a bit dubious (I don't suppose they get much horizontal rain in Santa Barbara), but even she decided to walk eventually. We admired the geology (how often do you get to walk on land that is basically a gap between 2 tectonic plates?) and the crystal clear waters of the lake, took in the spot where the “lawspeaker” would recite a third of the laws each year (an essential task, before there was a written language), photographed a few pretty ducks and then got back aboard. We were clearly a soggy-looking bunch, because Othinn said he'd take us to a nearby visitor centre where we could get a coffee while he left the bus engine running and turned up the heating to dry out our jackets. We sprinted jacketless through the rain to the dry cafe-cum-souvenir shop and dried out for 15 minutes.
Before leaving, Bilbo and I decided to put our waterproof trousers on. We dug them out of the backpack and there was an immediate smell of mothballs. The problem with going on a holiday requiring bad weather gear in the summer is that the mothballs in our spare room wardrobe are still at their most pungent in June. We stepped outside quickly and hoped no one would associate the smell with us. Goodness knows what the other 5 occupants of the minibus thought for the rest of the day, but they were too polite to say anything.
The road to Thingvellir from Reykjavik is the Route 1 Ring Road, which has a decent surface. That soon changed when Othinn turned off onto a smaller road towards Gullfoss and Geysir, our next stops. It was Route 365 to Laugarvatn, a windy, narrow road through the hills which was mostly gravel, and there were frequent cars coming towards us and needing to be overtaken in our direction. We were glad we'd decided not to hire a car and do this trip ourselves. We reached the blacktop again just outside Laugarvatn, a summer resort on a geothermally-warmed lake. It wasn't too long after that before we could see the clouds of steam on the horizon that presaged the Geysir area. Before we were allowed out of the bus, Othinn gave us three rules to follow: don't step into the roped-off areas (the ground may collapse under you if you do); don't touch any of the water (it may be, literally, boiling hot); and don't stand downwind of the geysers (or you'll get wet when they “blow”, and probably scalded as well). We walked up a hill to get a view down over the area dotted with geysers, boiling mud pools and fumeroles, and were rather surprised to see the blue flowers carpeting the area were lupins. Othinn later explained that they were introduced to Iceland some years ago to help stabilise the ground and hasten the process of forming soil on the lava fields as, being leguminous, they can make their own nitrogen and grow on the moss-covered lava rocks.
Back down the hill, we strolled past Geysir, the original geyser, which alas now blows only once every few years. But all is not lost because close by is Strokkur, a smaller geyser that obligingly spouts every 6 or 7 minutes. Othinn had told us to watch for the dome forming over the pool and press the shutter button on our digital cameras then, and it worked a treat – I got a perfect picture of the plume gushing to 20ft or so.
Back in the bus, we went a few miles up the road to Gullfoss, a mighty double waterfall with the second fall at right angles to the first, giving a very dramatic effect. Othinn dropped us at the lower carpark, from where we could view the waterfall from a distance before walking along a path to a rocky area more or less level with, and very close to, the upper fall. The path and the rocky area were both very wet with spray and rain, and we were glad of the still smelly waterproofs. We scrabbled about on the rocks a bit and took some photos, then strolled back to the car park and up a flight of steps up the rock face to view the falls from above. If you go, make sure you take in both viewpoints – it was great to see Gullfoss up close from below, but also worthwhile to get the aerial view.
Lunch in the Gullfoss cafe followed, then we were back in the bus. Although this was the end of the classic Golden Circle tour, it was only 1.30pm and Othinn said we'd be making a couple of extra visits on the way back to Reykjavik. Bilbo and I perked up at this, as we were fairly sure from the TripAdvisor reports that one of these would be to a geothermal power station, and we are always up for an industrial tour. Othinn took Route 35 south back towards the coast, and the first stop was at Kerith, a very scenic volcanic caldera with a groundwater lake in the middle (the base of the crater is below the water table). The rain had eased off by now, but it was still quite damp and windy. The 6 of us had a stroll around the top of the caldera. There was a path down the inside of it, but none of us fancied it, the weather being as it was. It was a quiet place, with just one car parked there, whose occupants were distant specks at the bottom of the crater path. If you're passing, it's definitely worth a pause to admire the scenery, and if the weather is nice it would be a fine spot for a picnic.
We were soon back on the Ring Road at Selfoss, and headed west towards Reykjavik. On the outskirts of Hveragerthi Bilbo and I spotted Eldhestar, where we would be spending the following night. We were relieved to see that it was only about a mile from the edge of town – we'd chosen it on the basis that it was walkable, but we hadn't been able to find it on a map to check.
Just beyond Hveragerthi, Othinn confirmed we would be vising the new geothermal power plant at Hellisheithi. Set back from the road in a lava field (the Hveragerthi area is on the same rift as Thingvellir – it runs across Iceland from SW to NE), the shiny new plant had a huge, empty car park so we weren't surprised to find we were the only visitors. Visits are free, even if you turn up on your own, and we had the energy company guide all to ourselves. The visitors' facilities were excellent, with a huge display explaining how the power plant works and windows from where the high pressure and low pressure turbine halls could be viewed. There was also an earthquake simulator – being on a rift between 2 tectonic plates means this is a good place to tap the earth's heat, but also a bad place for earthquakes. The last big one locally was at Hveragerthi in May 2008 and it caused a fair bit of structural damage in the town, as we were to discover when we visited the following day.
We learned that this power station, which is one of 2 in the area, could generate enough electricity to meet the needs of every Icelandic household. There is an over-capacity of electricity generation in the country, but Hellisheithi has been built (and its capacity will be increased) because of the demand for heat as well as power. Well insulated pipes zig-zag across the lava fields to Reykjavik to help meet its district heating and domestic hot water needs, and we were told that its temperature only falls by about 1.5oC on the way there. The zig-zags allow the pipework to cope with thermal expansion and contraction, and also make the distribution system resilient to earthquakes. As a result of the abundance of cheap geothermal and hydroelectric power, Iceland is trying to attract industries with high demands for electricity. We had already noticed an Alcan factory on the way into Reykjavik from Keflavik airport.
We were dropped back at our guesthouse at 4pm, strangely exhausted despite having done very little walking. It was now raining quite hard again, so we didn't feel much like walking back into the centre of town to find a cafe despite having a desperate need for coffee and cake, so I nobly popped out to the nearby small supermarket for supplies. It's on Laugavegur, the main street, just opposite the Hlemmur bus station, and seemed to be open whenever we passed it, no matter what day or time. I picked up a couple of cans of beer, some crisps and a bag of kleinur, the little twisted doughnuts that Icelanders eat. We ate several of the latter with coffee in our room, then picked up our swimming things and walked out to the large outdoor pool at Laugardalslaug. It took about half an hour to reach the park in the rain, and we couldn't find the pool when we got there. After checking out various buildings which turned out to be sports halls of various types, and walking past football pitches where muddy small boys and girls were finishing their matches, we eventually found the geothermally heated pool just beyond a campsite.
This was our first Icelandic swimming/spa experience, and we weren't entirely sure what to do. (I can post a separate piece on Icelandic spa etiquette and practice, if anyone is interested.) In exchange for a very modest payment (less than £2 each) we got a small piece of paper with a barcode on it. The receptionist explained we had to scan the barcode to get through the turnstiles into the changing room zone, and after a few attempts (you also have to select from options on a screen which are presumably Child, Adult or Senior) we gained admittance. Then we were in a long corridor with men's and women's changing rooms off it and racks for shoes, which had to be removed before entering the changing rooms. (Make sure you don't have holes in your socks.) There were also small lockers in the corridor for valuables. By a process of trial and error, we figured out that you needed to insert a 100 krone coin to use one. (The coin is returned when you unlock the locker on your return.) The corridor also boasted a Nokia phone charging machine, which was neat – you insert cash and leave your phone locked in its own little cubbyhole, charging away while you swim. Presumably, you get another key on a wristband for that, and as I already had one for our joint valuables locker and was about to get one for my clothes locker, it's probably a good thing I don't have a Nokia mobile.
We went our separate ways, agreeing to meet at the exit from the ladies' changing rooms in the pool area. I have made this rule previously when going to public swimming pools with Bilbo, as I can't see very far without my glasses, especially in steamy thermal baths, and I get funny looks if I wander around peering myopically at any male in red trunks (Bilbo's current colour) trying to figure out whether it is him or not. Plus he manages to change in about half the time it takes me. Except for one time in a Hungarian spa where the only non-Hungarian language used for the notices was German, a language I speak a bit of and Bilbo doesn't, so it took him about 15 minutes longer than me to find the way out of the changing room. But that's another story.
The baths are a bit dated, but clean and warm enough for comfort even in the pouring rain. There were several “hot pots” heated from about 37oC to 42oC, which feels very hot indeed. I was disappointed to find that the tube slide had been removed, presumably for maintenance.
After 90 minutes or so of luxuriating in hot water and trying to ignore the rain, we got dried off and walked back towards our guesthouse, stopping for a meal at a restaurant called Red Chili on the way. The menu was rather strange – the word “fusion” didn't really do it justice. I had a dish that included chicken, chillis, noodles, soy sauce and Parmesan. It tasted better than it sounds.
And so to bed.
We we ready and waiting in the guesthouse reception at 8.30am, as instructed by Iceland Horizon, and the guide, Othinn, arrived shortly afterwards. It was raining fairly steadily, so we took waterproofs with us. As we climbed into the minibus and exchanged Good Mornings with a couple from the East Midlands and another couple from California, Othinn told us that there wasn't anyone else to pick up – Iceland Horizon had a second, larger coach doing the Golden Circle today, but it was just the 6 of us in this one. So we spread ourselves out a bit and tried to enjoy the rather wet drive to Thingvellir, our first stop.
En route, Othinn donned a fancy Bluetooth headset so he could be heard clearly throughout the vehicle and then invited us to ask him whatever we wanted about Iceland. So we pumped him for information on all manner of subjects, from the language, history and culture to the geology, flora and fauna of his native land He was remarkably well informed and answered every question the 6 of us posed, often providing statistics and other hard facts, like the number of child drownings per annum before and after the introduction of a policy of making proficient swimming a condition of high school graduation. This educational process continued all day and certainly made the drive between the various stages of the Golden Circle go quickly. It almost made me forget to be travel sick, but the winding road between Thingvellir and Laugarvatn was a bit of a trial.
Anyway, we stopped first at Thingvellir, the site of the first European parliament which was held annually for 900-odd years. Here we visited an interpretation centre and then walked down the rift between the North American and European tectonic plates, along a path across three bridges over the lake to where the bus met us near the church. It was pretty wet, and Othinn did say anyone who wanted to could stay in the bus, but the Leicester chap announced that he couldn't come to Thingvellir and then not see it properly, which set the standard for the rest of us. The Californian woman looked a bit dubious (I don't suppose they get much horizontal rain in Santa Barbara), but even she decided to walk eventually. We admired the geology (how often do you get to walk on land that is basically a gap between 2 tectonic plates?) and the crystal clear waters of the lake, took in the spot where the “lawspeaker” would recite a third of the laws each year (an essential task, before there was a written language), photographed a few pretty ducks and then got back aboard. We were clearly a soggy-looking bunch, because Othinn said he'd take us to a nearby visitor centre where we could get a coffee while he left the bus engine running and turned up the heating to dry out our jackets. We sprinted jacketless through the rain to the dry cafe-cum-souvenir shop and dried out for 15 minutes.
Before leaving, Bilbo and I decided to put our waterproof trousers on. We dug them out of the backpack and there was an immediate smell of mothballs. The problem with going on a holiday requiring bad weather gear in the summer is that the mothballs in our spare room wardrobe are still at their most pungent in June. We stepped outside quickly and hoped no one would associate the smell with us. Goodness knows what the other 5 occupants of the minibus thought for the rest of the day, but they were too polite to say anything.
The road to Thingvellir from Reykjavik is the Route 1 Ring Road, which has a decent surface. That soon changed when Othinn turned off onto a smaller road towards Gullfoss and Geysir, our next stops. It was Route 365 to Laugarvatn, a windy, narrow road through the hills which was mostly gravel, and there were frequent cars coming towards us and needing to be overtaken in our direction. We were glad we'd decided not to hire a car and do this trip ourselves. We reached the blacktop again just outside Laugarvatn, a summer resort on a geothermally-warmed lake. It wasn't too long after that before we could see the clouds of steam on the horizon that presaged the Geysir area. Before we were allowed out of the bus, Othinn gave us three rules to follow: don't step into the roped-off areas (the ground may collapse under you if you do); don't touch any of the water (it may be, literally, boiling hot); and don't stand downwind of the geysers (or you'll get wet when they “blow”, and probably scalded as well). We walked up a hill to get a view down over the area dotted with geysers, boiling mud pools and fumeroles, and were rather surprised to see the blue flowers carpeting the area were lupins. Othinn later explained that they were introduced to Iceland some years ago to help stabilise the ground and hasten the process of forming soil on the lava fields as, being leguminous, they can make their own nitrogen and grow on the moss-covered lava rocks.
Back down the hill, we strolled past Geysir, the original geyser, which alas now blows only once every few years. But all is not lost because close by is Strokkur, a smaller geyser that obligingly spouts every 6 or 7 minutes. Othinn had told us to watch for the dome forming over the pool and press the shutter button on our digital cameras then, and it worked a treat – I got a perfect picture of the plume gushing to 20ft or so.
Back in the bus, we went a few miles up the road to Gullfoss, a mighty double waterfall with the second fall at right angles to the first, giving a very dramatic effect. Othinn dropped us at the lower carpark, from where we could view the waterfall from a distance before walking along a path to a rocky area more or less level with, and very close to, the upper fall. The path and the rocky area were both very wet with spray and rain, and we were glad of the still smelly waterproofs. We scrabbled about on the rocks a bit and took some photos, then strolled back to the car park and up a flight of steps up the rock face to view the falls from above. If you go, make sure you take in both viewpoints – it was great to see Gullfoss up close from below, but also worthwhile to get the aerial view.
Lunch in the Gullfoss cafe followed, then we were back in the bus. Although this was the end of the classic Golden Circle tour, it was only 1.30pm and Othinn said we'd be making a couple of extra visits on the way back to Reykjavik. Bilbo and I perked up at this, as we were fairly sure from the TripAdvisor reports that one of these would be to a geothermal power station, and we are always up for an industrial tour. Othinn took Route 35 south back towards the coast, and the first stop was at Kerith, a very scenic volcanic caldera with a groundwater lake in the middle (the base of the crater is below the water table). The rain had eased off by now, but it was still quite damp and windy. The 6 of us had a stroll around the top of the caldera. There was a path down the inside of it, but none of us fancied it, the weather being as it was. It was a quiet place, with just one car parked there, whose occupants were distant specks at the bottom of the crater path. If you're passing, it's definitely worth a pause to admire the scenery, and if the weather is nice it would be a fine spot for a picnic.
We were soon back on the Ring Road at Selfoss, and headed west towards Reykjavik. On the outskirts of Hveragerthi Bilbo and I spotted Eldhestar, where we would be spending the following night. We were relieved to see that it was only about a mile from the edge of town – we'd chosen it on the basis that it was walkable, but we hadn't been able to find it on a map to check.
Just beyond Hveragerthi, Othinn confirmed we would be vising the new geothermal power plant at Hellisheithi. Set back from the road in a lava field (the Hveragerthi area is on the same rift as Thingvellir – it runs across Iceland from SW to NE), the shiny new plant had a huge, empty car park so we weren't surprised to find we were the only visitors. Visits are free, even if you turn up on your own, and we had the energy company guide all to ourselves. The visitors' facilities were excellent, with a huge display explaining how the power plant works and windows from where the high pressure and low pressure turbine halls could be viewed. There was also an earthquake simulator – being on a rift between 2 tectonic plates means this is a good place to tap the earth's heat, but also a bad place for earthquakes. The last big one locally was at Hveragerthi in May 2008 and it caused a fair bit of structural damage in the town, as we were to discover when we visited the following day.
We learned that this power station, which is one of 2 in the area, could generate enough electricity to meet the needs of every Icelandic household. There is an over-capacity of electricity generation in the country, but Hellisheithi has been built (and its capacity will be increased) because of the demand for heat as well as power. Well insulated pipes zig-zag across the lava fields to Reykjavik to help meet its district heating and domestic hot water needs, and we were told that its temperature only falls by about 1.5oC on the way there. The zig-zags allow the pipework to cope with thermal expansion and contraction, and also make the distribution system resilient to earthquakes. As a result of the abundance of cheap geothermal and hydroelectric power, Iceland is trying to attract industries with high demands for electricity. We had already noticed an Alcan factory on the way into Reykjavik from Keflavik airport.
We were dropped back at our guesthouse at 4pm, strangely exhausted despite having done very little walking. It was now raining quite hard again, so we didn't feel much like walking back into the centre of town to find a cafe despite having a desperate need for coffee and cake, so I nobly popped out to the nearby small supermarket for supplies. It's on Laugavegur, the main street, just opposite the Hlemmur bus station, and seemed to be open whenever we passed it, no matter what day or time. I picked up a couple of cans of beer, some crisps and a bag of kleinur, the little twisted doughnuts that Icelanders eat. We ate several of the latter with coffee in our room, then picked up our swimming things and walked out to the large outdoor pool at Laugardalslaug. It took about half an hour to reach the park in the rain, and we couldn't find the pool when we got there. After checking out various buildings which turned out to be sports halls of various types, and walking past football pitches where muddy small boys and girls were finishing their matches, we eventually found the geothermally heated pool just beyond a campsite.
This was our first Icelandic swimming/spa experience, and we weren't entirely sure what to do. (I can post a separate piece on Icelandic spa etiquette and practice, if anyone is interested.) In exchange for a very modest payment (less than £2 each) we got a small piece of paper with a barcode on it. The receptionist explained we had to scan the barcode to get through the turnstiles into the changing room zone, and after a few attempts (you also have to select from options on a screen which are presumably Child, Adult or Senior) we gained admittance. Then we were in a long corridor with men's and women's changing rooms off it and racks for shoes, which had to be removed before entering the changing rooms. (Make sure you don't have holes in your socks.) There were also small lockers in the corridor for valuables. By a process of trial and error, we figured out that you needed to insert a 100 krone coin to use one. (The coin is returned when you unlock the locker on your return.) The corridor also boasted a Nokia phone charging machine, which was neat – you insert cash and leave your phone locked in its own little cubbyhole, charging away while you swim. Presumably, you get another key on a wristband for that, and as I already had one for our joint valuables locker and was about to get one for my clothes locker, it's probably a good thing I don't have a Nokia mobile.
We went our separate ways, agreeing to meet at the exit from the ladies' changing rooms in the pool area. I have made this rule previously when going to public swimming pools with Bilbo, as I can't see very far without my glasses, especially in steamy thermal baths, and I get funny looks if I wander around peering myopically at any male in red trunks (Bilbo's current colour) trying to figure out whether it is him or not. Plus he manages to change in about half the time it takes me. Except for one time in a Hungarian spa where the only non-Hungarian language used for the notices was German, a language I speak a bit of and Bilbo doesn't, so it took him about 15 minutes longer than me to find the way out of the changing room. But that's another story.
The baths are a bit dated, but clean and warm enough for comfort even in the pouring rain. There were several “hot pots” heated from about 37oC to 42oC, which feels very hot indeed. I was disappointed to find that the tube slide had been removed, presumably for maintenance.
After 90 minutes or so of luxuriating in hot water and trying to ignore the rain, we got dried off and walked back towards our guesthouse, stopping for a meal at a restaurant called Red Chili on the way. The menu was rather strange – the word “fusion” didn't really do it justice. I had a dish that included chicken, chillis, noodles, soy sauce and Parmesan. It tasted better than it sounds.
And so to bed.
Jun 25th, 2009, 01:21 PM
#10
Monday (Day 3) – Green toast, 6 showers and 2.5 hours of sitting trot
Bilbo put the toast on while I was in the shower. Opening the kitchenette bin after breakfast to throw away the teabags, I was surprised to see several slices of bread in it. When I asked why, he said that he'd found some of the slices of the giant loaf were green with mould. I was somewhat unhappy that he hadn't thought to mention that before I ate two pieces of toast. We packed up, leaving all the dirty clothes we'd accumulated so far in a backpack for the guesthouse to keep until our return. Lucky them.
The Eldhestar minibus picked us up at 8.30am and was almost full. About half of our fellow passengers were Japanese, but it turned out that everyone else was booked on one or other of the shorter rides of an hour or so, and most of them had some recent riding experience. We wondered, not for the first time, whether it had been wise to sign up for a half day ride.
On arrival at the Eldhestar stables just outside Hveragerthi half an hour later, we were introduced to a couple of German women who were going to be riding with us, and were all asked about our riding experience. It turned out that the German pair rode twice a week and until recently had owned their own horses back home in Heidelberg. One of them had even ridden an Icelandic horse before. They were wearing jodhpurs and riding boots, not jeans and walking boots like us. Oh dear.
Short, shaggy beasts were led towards us, the two destined for Bilbo and me being a little less short than the other two (the German women were not as tall as us). The “horses” (Icelanders apparently get annoyed if you call them ponies – let's diplomatically call them petite horses) looked very much like Thelwell ponies, plump in girth, short in leg and very hairy. (They are generally left out all winter.) We were asked to mount facing the same way as the horse, which was a novel experience, but at least the stirrups were long. Once up, we started to shorten them, but were told that they should be long for Icelandic riding. They were so long that standing up gave only about an inch of saddle clearance and our feet could be seen below the horses' bellies. The Thelwell image was complete.
After a few minutes of riding in a big circle round the edge of a paddock with all the other riders, we four peeled off with a guide and set off, nose to tail, along tracks across the flat farmland around the stables. After a while, the guide stopped and explained how to achieve the tolt, the gait that is peculiar to Icelandic horses. It involved sitting down in the saddle like a sack of potatoes, leaning back a little, exerting gentle pressure on the reins as if doing a collected canter, and urging the horse on with a few kicks behind the girth. I'm not convinced that Bilbo or I managed it at all (although the guide said otherwise), which meant the next few hours were somewhat uncomfortable as, with the long stirrup leathers, a rising trot was impossible. When we complained that we couldn't be tolting, because it's supposed to be a comfortable gait that both rider and horse can keep up for hours, the guide maintained that all horses have a particular pace at which the tolt is most comfortable, and since we had all to ride at the same speed, nose to tail, apparently to stop the horses' natural tendency to race eachother, it was just unfortunate that our longer legged animals were going at something other than their optimal speed. All I can say is, if Genghis Khan's Mongol hordes really did ride across Asia and Europe on these animals' forebears, it's a wonder the warriors were in any fit state to fight when they dismounted. Maybe they did all their fighting from the saddle.
The weather was pretty good – sunny spells and fine, with a strong wind that we didn't really notice on horseback. The ride was enjoyable, or would have been, had we only been able to take our minds off our sore bottoms. We rode along a stream and then the river Olfusa, with waterbirds taking off all around us and trying to lead us away from their nests. We saw scarcely anyone else and had fantastic views of the mountains surrounding Hveragerthi. We definitely reached parts that would not have otherwise been reachable except more slowly on foot.
When we got back to the stables, the German pair said they were staying at the Eldhestar hotel too and it was good. We checked in and found they were right – the rooms were larger than average for Iceland, and the newish hotel a welcome contrast from the rather run-down stables buildings. We felt exhausted and headed straight for the shower before changing out of our horsey aroma'd clothes. Then we walked into town for lunch. It took about half an hour to reach the Tourist Information cum Library building, which has an impressive, glass-covered rift across the floor that was created by the 2008 earthquake.
After lunch in the Kidda Rot cafe, we visited the geothermal area in the middle of town and followed a walk up into the foothills, over the river, past numerous fumaroles. We passed the Frost and Fire guesthouse, which looked a very pleasant spot. Later, we visited the thermal swimming pool, which was more modern than the one in Reykjavik. It was a sunny evening, and just about warm enough to lie on a sunbed in between basking in warm water and hot pots. Hveragerthi also has a spa where you can get massages, etc – presumably for a larger fee than the modest £1.50 or so it cost to enter the pool – but we didn't have time to check it out.
After supper at the Kjot og Kunst cafe (recommended), we walked back to the Eldhestar. Still broad daylight at 11pm, of course. In the shower, I had a strong feeling of deja vu. I realised this was my 6th of the day: I'd had a shower when I got up, a shower after riding, a shower (mandatory) before entering the swimming pool, another mandatory one before re-entering the pool after using the steam room, one after finishing at the pool (probably mandatory – not sure – but in Icelandic pools you have to walk through the shower area to get to the changing rooms, so a post-swim shower is probably required as well as a pre-swim one), and now one before bed. I felt almost Icelandic. They take their personal cleanliness very seriously, and need have no concerns about the use of resources as the island has both water and geothermal heat in abundance.
Bilbo put the toast on while I was in the shower. Opening the kitchenette bin after breakfast to throw away the teabags, I was surprised to see several slices of bread in it. When I asked why, he said that he'd found some of the slices of the giant loaf were green with mould. I was somewhat unhappy that he hadn't thought to mention that before I ate two pieces of toast. We packed up, leaving all the dirty clothes we'd accumulated so far in a backpack for the guesthouse to keep until our return. Lucky them.
The Eldhestar minibus picked us up at 8.30am and was almost full. About half of our fellow passengers were Japanese, but it turned out that everyone else was booked on one or other of the shorter rides of an hour or so, and most of them had some recent riding experience. We wondered, not for the first time, whether it had been wise to sign up for a half day ride.
On arrival at the Eldhestar stables just outside Hveragerthi half an hour later, we were introduced to a couple of German women who were going to be riding with us, and were all asked about our riding experience. It turned out that the German pair rode twice a week and until recently had owned their own horses back home in Heidelberg. One of them had even ridden an Icelandic horse before. They were wearing jodhpurs and riding boots, not jeans and walking boots like us. Oh dear.
Short, shaggy beasts were led towards us, the two destined for Bilbo and me being a little less short than the other two (the German women were not as tall as us). The “horses” (Icelanders apparently get annoyed if you call them ponies – let's diplomatically call them petite horses) looked very much like Thelwell ponies, plump in girth, short in leg and very hairy. (They are generally left out all winter.) We were asked to mount facing the same way as the horse, which was a novel experience, but at least the stirrups were long. Once up, we started to shorten them, but were told that they should be long for Icelandic riding. They were so long that standing up gave only about an inch of saddle clearance and our feet could be seen below the horses' bellies. The Thelwell image was complete.
After a few minutes of riding in a big circle round the edge of a paddock with all the other riders, we four peeled off with a guide and set off, nose to tail, along tracks across the flat farmland around the stables. After a while, the guide stopped and explained how to achieve the tolt, the gait that is peculiar to Icelandic horses. It involved sitting down in the saddle like a sack of potatoes, leaning back a little, exerting gentle pressure on the reins as if doing a collected canter, and urging the horse on with a few kicks behind the girth. I'm not convinced that Bilbo or I managed it at all (although the guide said otherwise), which meant the next few hours were somewhat uncomfortable as, with the long stirrup leathers, a rising trot was impossible. When we complained that we couldn't be tolting, because it's supposed to be a comfortable gait that both rider and horse can keep up for hours, the guide maintained that all horses have a particular pace at which the tolt is most comfortable, and since we had all to ride at the same speed, nose to tail, apparently to stop the horses' natural tendency to race eachother, it was just unfortunate that our longer legged animals were going at something other than their optimal speed. All I can say is, if Genghis Khan's Mongol hordes really did ride across Asia and Europe on these animals' forebears, it's a wonder the warriors were in any fit state to fight when they dismounted. Maybe they did all their fighting from the saddle.
The weather was pretty good – sunny spells and fine, with a strong wind that we didn't really notice on horseback. The ride was enjoyable, or would have been, had we only been able to take our minds off our sore bottoms. We rode along a stream and then the river Olfusa, with waterbirds taking off all around us and trying to lead us away from their nests. We saw scarcely anyone else and had fantastic views of the mountains surrounding Hveragerthi. We definitely reached parts that would not have otherwise been reachable except more slowly on foot.
When we got back to the stables, the German pair said they were staying at the Eldhestar hotel too and it was good. We checked in and found they were right – the rooms were larger than average for Iceland, and the newish hotel a welcome contrast from the rather run-down stables buildings. We felt exhausted and headed straight for the shower before changing out of our horsey aroma'd clothes. Then we walked into town for lunch. It took about half an hour to reach the Tourist Information cum Library building, which has an impressive, glass-covered rift across the floor that was created by the 2008 earthquake.
After lunch in the Kidda Rot cafe, we visited the geothermal area in the middle of town and followed a walk up into the foothills, over the river, past numerous fumaroles. We passed the Frost and Fire guesthouse, which looked a very pleasant spot. Later, we visited the thermal swimming pool, which was more modern than the one in Reykjavik. It was a sunny evening, and just about warm enough to lie on a sunbed in between basking in warm water and hot pots. Hveragerthi also has a spa where you can get massages, etc – presumably for a larger fee than the modest £1.50 or so it cost to enter the pool – but we didn't have time to check it out.
After supper at the Kjot og Kunst cafe (recommended), we walked back to the Eldhestar. Still broad daylight at 11pm, of course. In the shower, I had a strong feeling of deja vu. I realised this was my 6th of the day: I'd had a shower when I got up, a shower after riding, a shower (mandatory) before entering the swimming pool, another mandatory one before re-entering the pool after using the steam room, one after finishing at the pool (probably mandatory – not sure – but in Icelandic pools you have to walk through the shower area to get to the changing rooms, so a post-swim shower is probably required as well as a pre-swim one), and now one before bed. I felt almost Icelandic. They take their personal cleanliness very seriously, and need have no concerns about the use of resources as the island has both water and geothermal heat in abundance.
Jun 28th, 2009, 01:15 PM
#11
Tuesday (Day 4) – Akureyri and an amateur football team
We congratulated eachother on still being able to walk when we got up - just. We seemed to have survived the ordeal by sitting trot. We headed for breakfast (a good one, buffet style) and saw our two fellow riders from the day before, clad in jodhpurs ready for another morning in the saddle. When they got up to replenish their plates, we couldn't help noticing that they were moving altogether more fluidly than we were.
After packing, we walked over to the other side of Hveragerthi, following a route on a map we'd picked up from Tourist Information the day before, to see an area that had been planted with trees some years ago. Trees are still unusual in most parts of Iceland – the Viking settlers found a well-forested country but after a few generations of building ships and heating their homes the country had very little left growing above scrub height. (Hence the joke: what do you do if you get lost in an Icelandic forest? Answer: stand up.) In recent decades there have been a number of initiatives to try and remedy this situation, with mixed success initially, but current planting schemes are doing better.
We were back at the hotel by the appointed hour to take the minibus back to Reykjavik. They were happy to drop us anywhere we wanted in the centre, so we opted for the City Airport. When we arrived, on a minibus again filled with a mixture of nationalities, the driver at first made to drop us at the car hire area – she'd assumed that was why we wanted to be at the airport. When we asked if she wouldn't mind pulling up outside the domestic terminal building, she beamed and, checking we were headed for Akureyri, told us it was a great place and always sunny. An Akureyri girl, clearly.
Reaching the check-in desk at 1pm, we discovered it didn't open until 30 minutes before the 3.30pm flight and there was no left luggage facility at the airport. You can leave luggage at the BSI bus station, but that's about 1km away and we didn't fancy wheeling/carrying our bags all the way there just to get an hour's free time before we had to wheel/carry them back again. So we had lunch in the airport cafe (not bad). Then cake. Then coffee. Then juice. And so the time passed until 3 o'clock and we could check in. By 3.05 the whole planeload of 50 of us (it was a Fokker 50) were checked in, so low-key was the process.
In the “domestic departure lounge” (too grand a word for it) there seemed to be a lot of men in blue and white tracksuits. I wondered if they were the Icelandic football team. Othinn had confessed that his compatriots were keen on football, but not very good at it, but these men looked several rungs of athleticism (and youth) below what I expected of a national team, even one that isn't terribly successful.
Unfortunately, the sky was overcast so we saw nothing from the plane until we descended below the clouds as we approached Akureyri. We were treated to a wonderful view of the fiord valley with its farms and the town nestled at the head of the fiord, all surrounded by snow topped mountains. This was definitely a different landscape from southern Iceland.
Waiting by the baggage carousel with the tracksuited lads, I couldn't control my curiosity any longer and asked one of them what their team was. He told me they were a football team on their way to play a league match that evening. The ground was a 90 minute coach ride from the airport, and after playing they would get back in the coach to be driven back to Reykjavik. They would get home at about 4am, and they were all amateurs so would have to get up for work after 3 or 4 hours sleep. Clearly, the Icelanders do take their football quite seriously.
While I was “chatting up footballers” (Bilbo's words), he had collected our 2 wheely suitcases. We walked out of the terminal building past the taxis, turned right when we reached the road and walked along the grass verge (no footpath) towards town. Akureyri's town buses are free, and I'd looked up the routes and times on the internet before we left home. For some reason, the airport isn't on any of the routes, but a couple of them come within about a km, and we were headed for the nearest stop. A small group of other passengers from the Reykjavik flight followed us at a distance, obviously unsure whether we knew where we were going. When we reached the bus stop, we sat down to wait the few minutes until the bus was due. After a while, a woman walked past, looked surprised to see us and came over to ask if we were waiting for a bus. My immediate fear was that she was about to tell us there was a bus strike, or the route had changed, or some other disaster. But just as we opened our mouths to say yes, the bus came round the corner and we were able to say “Yes, that one!” and thank her for her consideration before jumping on it.
The bus took us to the centre of town, from where it was a couple of minutes to the guesthhouse we'd booked. It is just called Guesthouse, so it took us a while to convince ourselves it was the right one before we rang the doorbell. We were admitted by the daughter of the house and shown to a comfortable room on the first floor. The guesthouse doesn't provide breakfast, but there is a small kitchen at guests' disposal, with a machine dispensing espressos.
We explored the town after unpacking, starting with a stroll along the waterfront. Akuyreyri sits at the top of the fiord, with a lake beyond it. There were snow-capped peaks on both sides as well as inland, and we found a road junction in the centre of town from which you could see a snowy mountain top in all four directions.
We went in the cathedral and admired the stained glass window from the old Coventry Cathedral, which somehow ended up for sale in a London antique shop some years after having been removed for safekeeping during the war.
Later, when we left our guesthouse in search of dinner, there was an bitterly cold wind funnelling down the fiord from the north. This was the coldest we were in our whole trip, and we layered on the fleeces and jumpers to keep warm. It wasn't hard to believe that the Arctic Circle was only a few miles away. We went to the Strikkith restaurant, which seems to get good reviews. It's on the 4th floor, and as luck would have it the lift was being repaired and the staircase was being tiled. We picked our way up past a tiler, still working despite it being after 8pm, and tried not to breathe in the solvent fumes from the adhesive he was using. It was probably just as well that access was difficult, as the restaurant was clearly a popular place, but they had a table for 2 free. The first people we saw when we arrived looked very smart and stylish, as did our surroundings, a complete contrast to us in all our layers, but we soon realised they were the exception rather than the rule. The Strikkith deserves its reputation. We had a good, Italian-style meal for a moderate price. There was a roof terrace that was unoccupied on this cold evening, but we saw people sitting out for lunch the following day when it was gloriously sunny.
We congratulated eachother on still being able to walk when we got up - just. We seemed to have survived the ordeal by sitting trot. We headed for breakfast (a good one, buffet style) and saw our two fellow riders from the day before, clad in jodhpurs ready for another morning in the saddle. When they got up to replenish their plates, we couldn't help noticing that they were moving altogether more fluidly than we were.
After packing, we walked over to the other side of Hveragerthi, following a route on a map we'd picked up from Tourist Information the day before, to see an area that had been planted with trees some years ago. Trees are still unusual in most parts of Iceland – the Viking settlers found a well-forested country but after a few generations of building ships and heating their homes the country had very little left growing above scrub height. (Hence the joke: what do you do if you get lost in an Icelandic forest? Answer: stand up.) In recent decades there have been a number of initiatives to try and remedy this situation, with mixed success initially, but current planting schemes are doing better.
We were back at the hotel by the appointed hour to take the minibus back to Reykjavik. They were happy to drop us anywhere we wanted in the centre, so we opted for the City Airport. When we arrived, on a minibus again filled with a mixture of nationalities, the driver at first made to drop us at the car hire area – she'd assumed that was why we wanted to be at the airport. When we asked if she wouldn't mind pulling up outside the domestic terminal building, she beamed and, checking we were headed for Akureyri, told us it was a great place and always sunny. An Akureyri girl, clearly.
Reaching the check-in desk at 1pm, we discovered it didn't open until 30 minutes before the 3.30pm flight and there was no left luggage facility at the airport. You can leave luggage at the BSI bus station, but that's about 1km away and we didn't fancy wheeling/carrying our bags all the way there just to get an hour's free time before we had to wheel/carry them back again. So we had lunch in the airport cafe (not bad). Then cake. Then coffee. Then juice. And so the time passed until 3 o'clock and we could check in. By 3.05 the whole planeload of 50 of us (it was a Fokker 50) were checked in, so low-key was the process.
In the “domestic departure lounge” (too grand a word for it) there seemed to be a lot of men in blue and white tracksuits. I wondered if they were the Icelandic football team. Othinn had confessed that his compatriots were keen on football, but not very good at it, but these men looked several rungs of athleticism (and youth) below what I expected of a national team, even one that isn't terribly successful.
Unfortunately, the sky was overcast so we saw nothing from the plane until we descended below the clouds as we approached Akureyri. We were treated to a wonderful view of the fiord valley with its farms and the town nestled at the head of the fiord, all surrounded by snow topped mountains. This was definitely a different landscape from southern Iceland.
Waiting by the baggage carousel with the tracksuited lads, I couldn't control my curiosity any longer and asked one of them what their team was. He told me they were a football team on their way to play a league match that evening. The ground was a 90 minute coach ride from the airport, and after playing they would get back in the coach to be driven back to Reykjavik. They would get home at about 4am, and they were all amateurs so would have to get up for work after 3 or 4 hours sleep. Clearly, the Icelanders do take their football quite seriously.
While I was “chatting up footballers” (Bilbo's words), he had collected our 2 wheely suitcases. We walked out of the terminal building past the taxis, turned right when we reached the road and walked along the grass verge (no footpath) towards town. Akureyri's town buses are free, and I'd looked up the routes and times on the internet before we left home. For some reason, the airport isn't on any of the routes, but a couple of them come within about a km, and we were headed for the nearest stop. A small group of other passengers from the Reykjavik flight followed us at a distance, obviously unsure whether we knew where we were going. When we reached the bus stop, we sat down to wait the few minutes until the bus was due. After a while, a woman walked past, looked surprised to see us and came over to ask if we were waiting for a bus. My immediate fear was that she was about to tell us there was a bus strike, or the route had changed, or some other disaster. But just as we opened our mouths to say yes, the bus came round the corner and we were able to say “Yes, that one!” and thank her for her consideration before jumping on it.
The bus took us to the centre of town, from where it was a couple of minutes to the guesthhouse we'd booked. It is just called Guesthouse, so it took us a while to convince ourselves it was the right one before we rang the doorbell. We were admitted by the daughter of the house and shown to a comfortable room on the first floor. The guesthouse doesn't provide breakfast, but there is a small kitchen at guests' disposal, with a machine dispensing espressos.
We explored the town after unpacking, starting with a stroll along the waterfront. Akuyreyri sits at the top of the fiord, with a lake beyond it. There were snow-capped peaks on both sides as well as inland, and we found a road junction in the centre of town from which you could see a snowy mountain top in all four directions.
We went in the cathedral and admired the stained glass window from the old Coventry Cathedral, which somehow ended up for sale in a London antique shop some years after having been removed for safekeeping during the war.
Later, when we left our guesthouse in search of dinner, there was an bitterly cold wind funnelling down the fiord from the north. This was the coldest we were in our whole trip, and we layered on the fleeces and jumpers to keep warm. It wasn't hard to believe that the Arctic Circle was only a few miles away. We went to the Strikkith restaurant, which seems to get good reviews. It's on the 4th floor, and as luck would have it the lift was being repaired and the staircase was being tiled. We picked our way up past a tiler, still working despite it being after 8pm, and tried not to breathe in the solvent fumes from the adhesive he was using. It was probably just as well that access was difficult, as the restaurant was clearly a popular place, but they had a table for 2 free. The first people we saw when we arrived looked very smart and stylish, as did our surroundings, a complete contrast to us in all our layers, but we soon realised they were the exception rather than the rule. The Strikkith deserves its reputation. We had a good, Italian-style meal for a moderate price. There was a roof terrace that was unoccupied on this cold evening, but we saw people sitting out for lunch the following day when it was gloriously sunny.
Jul 21st, 2009, 01:11 PM
#12
Wednesday (Day 5) – Akureyri and sweet and sour cod
We woke to a cloudless blue sky and decided we would stay put rather than spending the day going to Lake Myvatn. We went out to a cafe for breakfast and, as we hadn't tried the famous skyr yet (a sort of thick yoghurt), we had fruit skyr followed by skyr scones. Then we walked over to Tourist Information, where there wasn't a lot on offer other than trips to Husavik by bus to go whale watching. We have watched whales before, and didn't feel the need to do so again. We asked what walks there were along the fiord and were told it wasn't really possible to follow the shoreline as there are no paths there. The woman helpfully marked on a map an informal path of a mile or so where she walks her dog, but we were looking for something a bit longer without actually heading for the mountains. Eventually, we decided on heading up the valley to a wooded area.
Unsure what to wear, and remembering how cold it had been the previous night, I put on my thermal longjohns, jeans, a sleeveless top, a long sleeved shirt and a wool sweater. This was for a bright, sunny day in June. The thing about Iceland is, it's never quite as warm as you think it's going to be, even on a sunny day, but in a sheltered spot it can be T-shirt and shorts weather. Our guidebook said, don't take a pair of shorts 'just in case', you'll never wear them. Actually, I think I might have worn them that day, because within half an hour of setting off on our walk I had stripped off to my sleeveless top. We walked up the hill from the old part of town to “Nonni's stone”, where a children's author known as Nonni had gone to think as a child, before he went off to be educated by the Jesuits in Switzerland. We had an excellent view of the town and the fiord, and planes taking off from the runway that sticks out into the lake. Then we continued through a tidy cemetery, past allotments and lupins to woods beyond the airport. Woods such as this, with mature trees, are highly unusual in Iceland.
We took a different route back to town, past a camp site for children and fields full of buttercups and horses. Closer to town there was a lot of residential development going on near a golf course where the Arctic Open is played through the night on the summer solstice. Back in the main street of the newer part of town we had a late lunch in the Blaa Kanna (Blue Pot) cafe – you can't miss it, it is royal blue with red turrets. Later in the day, we took another free bus out to the museum. It used to be called the Folk Museum, but now seems to be called just the Akureyri Museum. The ground floor covers the settlement of Iceland in much the same way as the Reykjavik Museum, and the folk element was in the basement, lots of historical information on Akureyri. It passed the time, but probably isn't worth a visit if you've already learnt about the settlement elsewhere.
We had to try the Akureyri thermal baths, if only to be able to compare it with the others we had visited. This was a very modern facility, and I was delighted to find it had a tube slide as well as an open, straight chute. I went down the tube, which twisted this way and that, then went completely dark and did a 360 shortly before spitting me out into a small, but very warm, pool. Great! I went down it twice more before I'd had enough. It really is nice to be able to bask in water at, or near, blood heat on a sunny evening. And it's nearly as nice on a cold, wet evening. What a shame Britain, a country also famed for its dreadful weather, isn't a volcanic island.
Walking near the main square in the early evening, the air was suddenly filled with the sound and smell of revving engines. This was the famous runtur, a sort of Icelandic passeggiata performed in cars – as befits a cold climate. The cars were driven almost bumper to bumper, mainly at walking pace but with occasional bursts of speed whenever a gap appeared. The participants appeared to be having fun.
We had to choose where to eat, and didn't fancy any of the restaurants we had seen reviewed. They were either too Icelandic (whale, puffin, etc), too meaty (lamb, lamb and more lamb), too pretentious and/or expensive, or Italian, and we'd had pasta and pizza the night before. In the end, we plumped for a newish Thai restaurant opposite the main bus stop near the harbour and had a good, freshly cooked meal, albeit rather milder than we would have expected from a Thai restaurant back home. I ate battered cod in a sweet and sour sauce – possibly not a particularly authentic Thai dish, but tasty.
We woke to a cloudless blue sky and decided we would stay put rather than spending the day going to Lake Myvatn. We went out to a cafe for breakfast and, as we hadn't tried the famous skyr yet (a sort of thick yoghurt), we had fruit skyr followed by skyr scones. Then we walked over to Tourist Information, where there wasn't a lot on offer other than trips to Husavik by bus to go whale watching. We have watched whales before, and didn't feel the need to do so again. We asked what walks there were along the fiord and were told it wasn't really possible to follow the shoreline as there are no paths there. The woman helpfully marked on a map an informal path of a mile or so where she walks her dog, but we were looking for something a bit longer without actually heading for the mountains. Eventually, we decided on heading up the valley to a wooded area.
Unsure what to wear, and remembering how cold it had been the previous night, I put on my thermal longjohns, jeans, a sleeveless top, a long sleeved shirt and a wool sweater. This was for a bright, sunny day in June. The thing about Iceland is, it's never quite as warm as you think it's going to be, even on a sunny day, but in a sheltered spot it can be T-shirt and shorts weather. Our guidebook said, don't take a pair of shorts 'just in case', you'll never wear them. Actually, I think I might have worn them that day, because within half an hour of setting off on our walk I had stripped off to my sleeveless top. We walked up the hill from the old part of town to “Nonni's stone”, where a children's author known as Nonni had gone to think as a child, before he went off to be educated by the Jesuits in Switzerland. We had an excellent view of the town and the fiord, and planes taking off from the runway that sticks out into the lake. Then we continued through a tidy cemetery, past allotments and lupins to woods beyond the airport. Woods such as this, with mature trees, are highly unusual in Iceland.
We took a different route back to town, past a camp site for children and fields full of buttercups and horses. Closer to town there was a lot of residential development going on near a golf course where the Arctic Open is played through the night on the summer solstice. Back in the main street of the newer part of town we had a late lunch in the Blaa Kanna (Blue Pot) cafe – you can't miss it, it is royal blue with red turrets. Later in the day, we took another free bus out to the museum. It used to be called the Folk Museum, but now seems to be called just the Akureyri Museum. The ground floor covers the settlement of Iceland in much the same way as the Reykjavik Museum, and the folk element was in the basement, lots of historical information on Akureyri. It passed the time, but probably isn't worth a visit if you've already learnt about the settlement elsewhere.
We had to try the Akureyri thermal baths, if only to be able to compare it with the others we had visited. This was a very modern facility, and I was delighted to find it had a tube slide as well as an open, straight chute. I went down the tube, which twisted this way and that, then went completely dark and did a 360 shortly before spitting me out into a small, but very warm, pool. Great! I went down it twice more before I'd had enough. It really is nice to be able to bask in water at, or near, blood heat on a sunny evening. And it's nearly as nice on a cold, wet evening. What a shame Britain, a country also famed for its dreadful weather, isn't a volcanic island.
Walking near the main square in the early evening, the air was suddenly filled with the sound and smell of revving engines. This was the famous runtur, a sort of Icelandic passeggiata performed in cars – as befits a cold climate. The cars were driven almost bumper to bumper, mainly at walking pace but with occasional bursts of speed whenever a gap appeared. The participants appeared to be having fun.
We had to choose where to eat, and didn't fancy any of the restaurants we had seen reviewed. They were either too Icelandic (whale, puffin, etc), too meaty (lamb, lamb and more lamb), too pretentious and/or expensive, or Italian, and we'd had pasta and pizza the night before. In the end, we plumped for a newish Thai restaurant opposite the main bus stop near the harbour and had a good, freshly cooked meal, albeit rather milder than we would have expected from a Thai restaurant back home. I ate battered cod in a sweet and sour sauce – possibly not a particularly authentic Thai dish, but tasty.
Aug 14th, 2009, 10:48 AM
#15
Thanks for your responses, wanderluster44 and Maria_H. They've encouraged me to finish this trip report. Just one more day after Day 6 below.
Thursday (Day 6) – back to Reykjavik
I found my shoulders were pink from walking around in the sun yesterday. There can't be many people who get sunburnt in Iceland (average temperature in June about 11oC), but I managed it.
We were booked on an 11.30am flight, but determined to see a bit more of what Akureyri has to offer before going. We left the guesthouse at 8 to find breakfast and then caught a bus to the botanical garden. This has a huge number of different shrubs and flowers and was founded by a worthy group of ladies of the town about a hundred years ago. There were areas devoted to alpines and Arctic plants, everything well tended and labelled. We found some things we recognised from home and a lot of things we didn't. We were also able to put names to things we had seen growing in the local gardens – Akureyri is famed for its domestic gardens.
We walked back to the guesthouse and had a final espresso before checking out, then took a bus back to the stop near the Industrial Museum that is closest to the airport. We walked to the terminal, arriving in plenty of time 90 minutes before our flight. Unlike Reykjavik, the check-in desk was open and we were able to get rid of our luggage and then walk over to the Aviation Museum in a nearby hangar. The door was shut and a sign said it didn't open until 11, but a man having a smoke nearby came over, let us in and sold us a couple of tickets. He looked like the sort of plane nut who hangs around airports all day watching the planes, but he may have been the recently retired head of Icelandair for all I know.
It was another cloudy day, so we still didn't get a view of the interior of Iceland on our flight back to Reykjavik. Once below the cloud, we did have a good view of the city and the harbour as we came in to land. The domestic departure lounge at Reykjavik turned out to be the same thing as the arrivals lounge, but we couldn't fault the efficiency. Our bags appeared on the carousel shortly after we walked in, just as I was asking at the information desk what the current fare is on the city buses. (Important to know, as they don't give change.) The chap on the desk didn't know (why is it that such obvious information is always in short supply?), so I bought a bottle of juice in the cafe/shop with a 1,000 krone note to get lots of change to be on the safe side. Then we towed our bags down the road in search of the bus stop. We had no sooner arrived and read the notice saying that tickets cost 280 krone with no change given, than the bus came. We got off at the Hlemmur bus station, five minutes walk from the Einholt Guesthouse. As we walked into reception I checked my watch and it was just 30 minutes since the plane had touched down. That must be some kind of record, even for Bilbo and me who live 15 minutes from a small airport and are used to getting out of it promptly.
We spent the afternoon strolling round town in the sun. We revisited the City Hall with its amazing relief map of the country and worked out exactly where we had been for the past few days. Mid afternoon found us having cake and coffee in the rather stylish Cafe Paris, eavesdropping on a woman from the US embassy at the next table being gently persuaded to provide some funding for a rather dubious-sounding arts festival. At the table on our other side were 2 young men in viking helmets who had to keep striking suitably warlike poses for the benefit of camera-toting Japanese tourists walking past the adjacent window. Good entertainment value, and good cake.
Back at the Einholt, we wondered where to eat supper and asked the manager for advice. He recommended Potturinn og Pannan (Pots and Pans), a 5 minute walk away. We'd already considered it earlier in the trip, but had rejected it as there was no menu displayed and it is part of a hotel – not always a good thing in a restaurant. The Einholt's manager assured us it was very good and also much better value than equivalent places in the centre of town. We took his advice and weren't disappointed.
Thursday (Day 6) – back to Reykjavik
I found my shoulders were pink from walking around in the sun yesterday. There can't be many people who get sunburnt in Iceland (average temperature in June about 11oC), but I managed it.
We were booked on an 11.30am flight, but determined to see a bit more of what Akureyri has to offer before going. We left the guesthouse at 8 to find breakfast and then caught a bus to the botanical garden. This has a huge number of different shrubs and flowers and was founded by a worthy group of ladies of the town about a hundred years ago. There were areas devoted to alpines and Arctic plants, everything well tended and labelled. We found some things we recognised from home and a lot of things we didn't. We were also able to put names to things we had seen growing in the local gardens – Akureyri is famed for its domestic gardens.
We walked back to the guesthouse and had a final espresso before checking out, then took a bus back to the stop near the Industrial Museum that is closest to the airport. We walked to the terminal, arriving in plenty of time 90 minutes before our flight. Unlike Reykjavik, the check-in desk was open and we were able to get rid of our luggage and then walk over to the Aviation Museum in a nearby hangar. The door was shut and a sign said it didn't open until 11, but a man having a smoke nearby came over, let us in and sold us a couple of tickets. He looked like the sort of plane nut who hangs around airports all day watching the planes, but he may have been the recently retired head of Icelandair for all I know.
It was another cloudy day, so we still didn't get a view of the interior of Iceland on our flight back to Reykjavik. Once below the cloud, we did have a good view of the city and the harbour as we came in to land. The domestic departure lounge at Reykjavik turned out to be the same thing as the arrivals lounge, but we couldn't fault the efficiency. Our bags appeared on the carousel shortly after we walked in, just as I was asking at the information desk what the current fare is on the city buses. (Important to know, as they don't give change.) The chap on the desk didn't know (why is it that such obvious information is always in short supply?), so I bought a bottle of juice in the cafe/shop with a 1,000 krone note to get lots of change to be on the safe side. Then we towed our bags down the road in search of the bus stop. We had no sooner arrived and read the notice saying that tickets cost 280 krone with no change given, than the bus came. We got off at the Hlemmur bus station, five minutes walk from the Einholt Guesthouse. As we walked into reception I checked my watch and it was just 30 minutes since the plane had touched down. That must be some kind of record, even for Bilbo and me who live 15 minutes from a small airport and are used to getting out of it promptly.
We spent the afternoon strolling round town in the sun. We revisited the City Hall with its amazing relief map of the country and worked out exactly where we had been for the past few days. Mid afternoon found us having cake and coffee in the rather stylish Cafe Paris, eavesdropping on a woman from the US embassy at the next table being gently persuaded to provide some funding for a rather dubious-sounding arts festival. At the table on our other side were 2 young men in viking helmets who had to keep striking suitably warlike poses for the benefit of camera-toting Japanese tourists walking past the adjacent window. Good entertainment value, and good cake.
Back at the Einholt, we wondered where to eat supper and asked the manager for advice. He recommended Potturinn og Pannan (Pots and Pans), a 5 minute walk away. We'd already considered it earlier in the trip, but had rejected it as there was no menu displayed and it is part of a hotel – not always a good thing in a restaurant. The Einholt's manager assured us it was very good and also much better value than equivalent places in the centre of town. We took his advice and weren't disappointed.
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