Nice report... I have just one comment... we did Iceland in October, 2007 and my only comment was that we found the food to be excellent (definitely not cheap, but excellent).

Even when 'forced' to eat at a gas station (because it was the only open place for miles, the hamburgers were freshly made and the fries excellent... some of the restaurants were nothing to look at, but all did an excellent job in both preparation and presentation. We had fish a number of times and it was always first rate.

In addition, the breakfasts at all of the inns, hotels and B&B was great (this having staying in similar places on several continents).

For lunch, we picnic'ed on the road for most meals (were did a lot of hiking, so were never quite sure where we were going to be). Usually consisted of some hardboiled eggs from breakfast, some excellent cheese from the local market, whatever fruit was available (grapes were very good), so local smoked fish or meat, whatever baked goods looked good at the local bakery, and a couple of beers (which were very cheap in the markets). It wasn't 1st class, but the scenery was always great and the dash of our Citroen made a pretty good picnic table.

Hi astein,

nice to hear from you - you were so helpful when I was planning - perhaps I should have taken more notice!

S:

you're right that the breakfasts were consistently good, but we found other food to be variable, to say the least. generally the simpler the better, [soups were great] and most of the supermarket fare we found was downright poor.

you're also right about gas [what we call petrol] stations. unfortunately we rarely found ourselves near one when we needed a meal, but they were a good alternative to what was otherwise available.


sandy and Moolyn - glad you're "listening". I'll try to post the next installment soon.

regards, ann

DAY SIX – It’s along way to Flokalundur [think Tipperary]

Of all the days we had planned, this was one which I had been secretly dreading – a drive of about 400kms, a lot of those over the awful B roads – so that we could end up conveniently placed for our visit to the bird cliffs at Latrabjarg the next day. For all I could tell it might take as many as 10, even 12 hours – all I knew was that it was a B..long way!

So after an early breakfast, packing the car with all our many possessions [including the remaining cucumber still crisp from the guesthouse fridge] and dragging DS away from the guesthouse dogs [a year’s fussing in two days] we were off, initially along a nice A road. This was OK – what was I worrying about?

Anyone who cares to look at the map of Iceland and to find Thingvelllir will see that the only route north lies along the B52 and all too soon, there it was, straight ahead. But look – this is tarmac, no problems at all. Then the sign “mabalik endar” [tarmac finishes] and here’s the gravel, firm at first, then becoming looser, and potholed and then….diversion. Where to? ..who knows? But there was no choice except to go on or to go back, so on it was, mile after mile, past endless heaps of lava, some black, some grey, all dauntingly sterile, until finally we hit the main A road north out of Reykjavik and another choice – a long detour on an A road, or another B..dy stretch til we got to the road we needed. So which would you have taken? – we took to low road, and it was back to gravel and potholes and crossing my fingers against damaging the bottom of the car, until blessed relief, we had done it.

Our route took us past the end of the Snaefellsnes peninsular [our destination after the western fjords whence we were heading] and soon we could see the end of the Hvammsfjordur shining blue to our left as we headed up the coast. By now we needed some petrol and this was out first run-in with the fully automated petrol pump. For this you need a) endless patience, and b) a valid credit card. If you lack either of these essentials you may find that your trip comes to a premature end. First of all, you need to make sure that the pump gives the right sort of petrol – this is reasonably simple. Then you start to interact with the petrol pump. If you are lucky, it “speaks” English, like some ATM machines abroad. You will need to insert your card, put in your pin, decide how much petrol you need [5,6,or 7,000 IKR for example or fill it up] then remove your card, fill up the car and bob’s your uncle. Unless, like me, the machine implacably rejects your card and the very pretty girl from the adjoining café just shakes her head at the ignorance of tourists and goes back to doling out the lamb stew. After a number of attempts [and this was a card I’d used to pay the guesthouse earlier in the day, and which I would use later on too] despite my rising panic I remembered that I’d brought another as a back-up, and hey-presto, it worked. Phew.

By now we needed lunch [200 kms had taken us all morning!] and we rewarded ourselves with some of that stew – and it was very good. Here in the middle of [almost] nowhere, a stunning girl [who spoke faultless English, BTW] and great stew. Then it was back in the car and further and further north, along surprisingly good roads and increasingly lovely scenery, til we reached the fjords. WOW. I’ve never been to Scandanavia, but this is how I imagine it – tiny inlets of blue sea cutting into the hillside, and no people. There were 8 inlets between us and our destination, and truly I didn’t resent any of them. And I even got quite fond of the b…road.

Thanks for another chapter, Ann! I'm anxiously waiting to discover whether that cucumber will survive right to the end and make it all the way round Iceland.

Hi annhig, I'm absolutely sure I will never visit Iceland, so reading your report makes me feels as if I have been there. I love your writing! It's a hoot. I've been saying "Bob's your uncle" for a while now, since I heard Russell Crowe say it, and none of my US friends know what it means. Can't wait to read the next installment. Thanks for sharing your wit with us.
Maggi

Hi moolyn & maggie,

as ever, thanks for the encouragement. the plan had been to finish the trip report before DH and I go away to Brittany for a few days next week, leaving DD and DS in charge!!! but life and lawn-mowing [a bit of an obsession with me, according to the family] have intervened.

any way, lets try to finish Day 6.

regards, ann

DAY 6 [cont]

when we were plannnig the trip, it had been a toss-up between trying to get all the way round Iceland and visiting the western fjords and rightly or wrongly the latrabjarg bird cliffs swung it for us. but where to stay? in this area there is little enough choice and in the end we'd opted for the hotel flokalundur, mainly because of its proximity to the ferry port which wuld take us over to the snaefellsness peninsular on the way back south to Reykjavik.

we'd been warned by our guide book that it was not a thing of beauty [frankly, few icelandic hotels or indeed buildings are] and we weren't disappointed. low and flat, with a long corridor of bedrooms leading off the main building, it did exactly what it said on the tin. but it was clean and comfortable, and we had adjourning rooms right at the end of said corridor, with access onto a lovely west-facing balcony, where we soon found ourselves drinking richly deserved beers out of our rapidly reducing store, watching the sun still amazingly high in the sky even at 7pm.

In a place like this, dinner is inevitably to be found in the hotel, so at about 7.30 we made for the restaurant. what to have? I can't remember what it was to be frank, except that DS insisted on trying the marinated guillimot [lucky he wasn't too hungry that night] and for Iceland it was reasonably good value. and as ever included endless coffee.

after dinner we thought a walk would be good, and armed with our walks laflet from reception, we headed off to try to find the tiny lake which was allegedly about 2kms away. which is a hint that of course we never found it, though we did find a lovely waterfall up above the hotel, and got thoroughly hot and bothered in the process. At which point, it being only 10pm, DS decided he wanted a swim in the sea and to the amusement of a party of germans who'd nicked our places on the balcony to watch the sunset [they were in for quite a wait] DS and his speedos took to the water. Which to judge by the colour he was when he came out, was quite cold. Shame he doesn't like armagnac - we had to drink his share ourselves.

Tomorrow - we visit puffin city.

Hi there Annhig, nice to read your report. (& thanks for all your lovely comments and help while planning our last trip and also for reading my attempt at a trip report! which I 'will' finish)

Iceland wasn't really ever on 'our' list, must say it still isn't, but am enjoying your 'saga', love the worts and all approach, if we want the 'glossed' over version we can read travel brochures.

Looking forward to more. AD:-)

annhig This was the best part of my day! Reading your trip report. You all are such supertroopers. Iceland is not my thing, but damn I'm living it through you.

I am totally at lost about the drowning of miscreants and I'm looking it up online right now, hopefully I'll get some info about it. Otherwise it'll bug me all night.

Great job with your report, I love the twist you Brits put on things.

Theresa in Detroit

hi again,

AD - it was a pleasure and I'm very much enjoying reading your take on GB.

what was it Rabbie burns said?

"haw to god the gift he gee us, to see ourselves as others see us". [with apologies for misquotation and poor transcription of the scots]

Mawmaw <<I am totally at lost about the drowning of miscreants and I'm looking it up online right now, hopefully I'll get some info about it>>

?????

at a loss about which bit?

nice to hear from you BTW and hope you got some sleep. your comments are very encouraging.

unfortunately I now have to do some WORK.

:-<

regards, ann

ann sorry I didn't understand the whole drowning miscreants, I didn't realize it had to do with drowning bad people for doing bad things. I get it now. I can't wait to read more, so hint hint MORE PLEASE.

ttt

Hi Mamaw,

sorry i was so opaque!

actually i doubt that these were bad people at all, many were adulterous [allegedly] women, "witches" etc. etc.

we have now returned from our short-break in France, so normal service should be resumed shortly.

regards, ann

YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! I'm happy your home and will continue. How was France? I have been home sick and dreaming of Paris and Bayeux. And of course checking up on your TR.

Theresa

DAY SEVEN

How many times have you REEAALLY looked forward to a part of your trip, only to have it let you down like a damp squib? Especially when other bits haven’t exactly come up to scratch. Well, I’d been hanging my hopes on this day that it would be the highlight of the holiday, and for once, it turned out to be just that - well, one of them, anyway.

The whole point of coming all this way had been to see the bird cliffs at Latrabjarg, [the most westerly point of Europe] and from where we were staying we still had a two hour drive to get there. More fjords, more lava, more b..roads..and finally we were there. And not alone. A car park full of cars, a light-house, and cliffs covered in several hundred thousand nesting, flying, screaming, birds – kittiwakes, razor-bills, guillemots, and best of all, puffins.

At first we couldn’t see them – how can you not see what’s under your nose? [and in it, to be frank – that number of birds are pretty smelly as well as noisy]. Then one by one they emerged from their nests and we realised that the tops of the cliffs were riddled with their tunnels, where they hide the babies before they fledge. A real city of puffins. The best view [and safest, given the height of the cliffs] was obtained by lying on the edge and looking over. That way you could observe their coming and goings from only a few feet away, with seemingly no effect on the puffins – they are the tamest of the birds on the cliffs, and carry on their lives completely unmoved by their observers. It was a bit like watching a soap opera on telly – a puffin would pop out of its burrow, have a little look round, make that lovely little puffin croak or grunt that they have, then pop off the ledge, to be replaced by another with a beak full of fish which would be duly delivered into another near-by burrow. I suppose that we must have spent a good hour in this way, before DH decided he’d got enough puffin pictures, and we’d got quite stiff from lying on our tummies. And decided that we were hungry, too, and no-one was going to be flying out to see to bring us a beakful of fish.

On the way out to the cliffs, we’d noticed a guest-house at Breidavik which is not far from the cliffs, [possibly the last loo stop] and despite the fact that they have a bit of a captive audience, it turned out to be quite a decent place – and might make a good over-night stop if you wanted to be as close as possible to the birds, not a mention a beautiful and almost deserted beach near-by. Coffee would be good we thought – 3 coffees please – “yes – it’s over there – help yourselves, it’s free”. Regrettably, the soup and beer weren’t free, but they were quite reasonable [for Iceland] and we were able to sit in the sun and drink our [free!!!] coffee after our lunch of oxtail [NOT lamb] soup and bread rolls.

The plan had been to find somewhere to swim on the way back, but we were thwarted by the tide – much to the disgust of DS who got a severe attack of the grumps and spent the rest of the long drive back complaining about not being allowed to swim on the way there. And he was right of course. But there wasn’t much we could do about it then. We did find some amusement at the folk museum at Hnjotur, which is named after Egill Olafsson who assembled a huge collection of local artifacts, from hunting, shooting and fishing, to “Icelandic operating theatres through the ages”! and when we got back, the tide had come back in enough for DS not to have to walk out too far to get a decent dip. But it wasn’t the same as some of the beautiful beaches we’d seen on the way out to the cliffs. Sorry, DS!

To end off a pretty good day, we went for the fish and chips off the “a la carte” menu – which turned out to be really good and remarkably good value, at only £15 each. [only twice what it would have been at home!] and then sat on the balcony with a beer and watched the sun set VERY slowly.

Tomorrow – the ups, and downs, of internet travel.

Annhig, I think your post should be nominated for the most unique title!

DAY EIGHT

After another typical guest-house breakfast, [cereal, breads, eggs, meat, cheese, and endless coffee or tea] and packing the car [including the now somewhat limp cucumber, but as we were due to be self-catering again it might come in useful] we had a couple of hours to kill before the ferry would take us back across the fjord to the snaefellnes peninsular, where we’d booked another “summerhouse” for three nights. The ferry-port was only 6 kms from the hotel and really there wasn’t a lot to do in those 6kms, but we pootled about, and drove up in good time to pick up our tickets [booked in advance on the internet on www.seatours.is getting a 10% discount on the fares of ikr 2190 per car and 2190 per person, total about £80 for us and the car – slightly more than the tankful of petrol the driving would have cost us but a huge saving in time and effort] and boarded the boat.

Whereas the previous day had been marked down in my mind as one of the potential highlights, being a not particularly good sailor [in fact a very bad one, I’ve been sea-sick on dry land before now, as has DD] I’d been dreading this day, even though it was a much better choice than another 300 mile drive round those b..roads again. We were soon ensconced on the upper deck with jumpers, macs and sea-sickness tablets [just in case] though as DH pointed out, it was flat calm very warm and sunny. The trip takes about 3 hours, including 30 mins or so while it puts into the island of Flatey [human population approx 50, bird population several 100,000] and I needn’t have worried - it proved to be a real joy. The day before we’d seen the puffins mainly on land or taking off from the cliffs, now we were able to watch them skim across the surface of the sea like little black torpedos - and so many of them. Plus terns, razor-bills, guillimots, and various ducks that we couldn’t identify. This must be the first sea-trip that I can remember being sorry when it came to an end.

The boat docks at the unspellable and unpronounceable town of Stykkisholmur, and we spent a couple of hours looking round the “ Norska house” set up as a C19 home, and the rather strange “museum of water” which evinced in us the same reaction as the Tate pile of bricks – it may be art, but not as we know it. We’d eaten on the boat [a shame, the cafes of this place looked particularly good] so by 3pm or so it was time to try to find our summerhouse, about 30 miles west near Grundafjordur – another small port on the north coast. On the web-site [www.simnet.is/kverna] the place looked fine – quite a large chalet in a quiet spot on a horse-farm – perfect. That fact that it was not part of the Farm Holidays organisation should have alerted us [ok, me] as should the price – at 10,000 IKR a night significantly cheaper than others but I put that down to the slightly out of the way position. Well, as soon as we got there, we saw the first problem – from one direction [the one from which all the photos had been taken] the view was of hills and waterfalls, from the other there was a nice view of a spoil heap. And the adjoining builder’s yard and road.

Oh well – we’ll be out most of the time [wise words]. The next problem was finding the owner. The main house seemed deserted, but eventually we raised a recalcitrant youth who said he knew nothing about anything especially not any holiday cottages. [more wise words, we should have read between the lines]. Between the main house and the road we could see some tents and in amongst them a couple of wooden shacks so we made for them, eventually finding the owner apparently cleaning one of them out. And the awful truth began to dawn [not soon enough you may think] – this was what we had booked.

Please do not get the idea that we are particularly picky or fussy people. The first summerhouse, whilst not luxurious by any means, had some privacy, a fully equipped kitchen, conveniently placed light switches, somewhere to sit besides dining tables and chairs crammed into all the available living space, and beds in which it was possible to sit up! This one lacked all those, and more. What it did have [and the true awfulness of this did not strike us until later] was a separate section at the rear which comprised the campers’ ablutions. To the right were their sinks, and to the left their electricity points to plug in a kettle for example [to this extent they were better off than us!]
What we should have done was to have a good look round and then run away. What we did was to glance about, and leaving the owner to continue “cleaning” we went off to buy some provisions. Another disaster. Grundarfjordur boasted only one supermarket and the amount of fresh food on sale there was limited. The only meat was either salted or frozen [possibly both]. Where do Icelanders buy fresh meat? Or poultry? We never found out. Eventually I found what I thought were pork chops which I purchased at huge expense. Plus some frozen potato things. And a few other bits and bobs to stretch our dwindling supplies to last us for the next 3 days.

Then it was back to the farm, when its many imperfections became more apparent. By now, a lot more caravaners and campers had arrived and they were busy using the facilities so conveniently positioned by and at the back of our “hut”. Indeed one wanted to use OUR shower [the only decent part] and looked quite affronted when we refused her entry. But we were stuck there with all this food so I’d better start cooking, while the family sort out the beds. [patience, I’ll get to the sleeping facilities in a while]. Hmmm – no cooker, just two hot plates integral to the sink and a microwave, all lit by an angle-poise lamp precariously fastened to the work-top. And the pork chops – oh no, not pork but ham – DS’s particular hate. And how am I going to cook this lot with only two very slow rings and a couple of burnt frying pans? And NO kettle. You do not want to know how long it took to make a cup of tea [whilst DH nobly went back down to the town and managed to find some eggs for DS to eat] and to cook those ham chops. And the potato things. By which time the ice-cream [which wouldn’t fit into the frosted up ice-compartment] was pretty soggy.

Did I tell you that when we’d come back from out shopping expedition, mein host had invited us over for a drink after supper? Despite the many failings of our accommodation, being British we though it would be rude not to go, so at nineish we made our way over to the main house, to find that some lucky! people were having supper indoors so we were invited into his inner sanctum. After tea all round [we weren’t offered coffee as being British, he’d assumed we’d prefer tea] there was a surprise for us, apparently. A little dish was offered round – [I could see DS’s eyes lighting up – sweets, or chocolates, perhaps?] no – Bible verses. Yes – that’s right – Sam 1 v 10. [or whatever]. And an English bible conveniently provided.

Could things get any worse? [well yes they could but you’ll have to be patient again to find out how!]. As a family of more of less confirmed atheists [and DS being someone who finds an argument almost impossible to resist] how to extract ourselves from this predicament was upmost in my mind. To the puzzlement but eventual amusement of the family I found that I had developed an intense interest in Icelandic agriculture and for the next half-hour, every time our host started looking at the Bible, I asked another question about sheep production or fishing conservation. And having bored him into submission, and drunk his tea, we were able to make our excuses and leave.

And so to bed – or rather, a selection of no less than 7 beds and mattresses crammed into the attic of our shack so closely that you could barely walk between them. With a central light switch accessible from none of them, at the top of a rickerty ladder down to the ground floor loo, which was a great discouragement to night-time visits. The beds themselves were not that uncomfortable, but the inability to sit up in bed due to the proximity of the attic ceiling did not improve things. I suppose that we eventually dropped off, [the kids, who were up the other end of the same attic room certainly did as we could tell by their gentle snoring] but we were all too soon awoken by the happy campers near-by making an early start, and using the toilets which were positioned immediately below my and DH’s beds. These 6am ablutions were made all the more intolerable by the endless banging of car doors and the incomprehensible running commentary in Icelandic kept up by the male of the party. Had I known any Icelandic oaths, I might have used them. As it was, their doings had a sort of frustrating fascination. Had we had any doubt about whether or not to stay on, they had helpfully made up our minds for us.

Finally, at about 7.30am , they took off, and wordlessly, DH and I made a decision to do the same. ASAP. Relieved to be getting up, [I had to get up to be able to read the guide book with the list of accommodation in it anyway,] whilst DH set about breakfast, I got the map and the list, and as soon as I decently could set about phoning likely hotels. As might be expected for July and High season, most were full for one of other of the nights we needed, but with the fifth call I struck lucky, and found that the Hotel Glymur down towards Reykjavik had two rooms for two nights. Thank goodness for credit cards. All right, it was more expensive than we’d wanted, but we were NOT in the mood for roughing it any more and we wanted to get right away from this horrible place. I let the kids know the good news, and DH used the only decent pan to make a huge plate of scrambled eggs [we’d bought 10 to last us the three days!] which with the remaining ham from last night went down nicely. Then DH packed the car whilst the kids and I tried to put all the furniture back where we found it [having had to move it to make room for us!] and I left the owner the money we owed him for one night plus a frank note to tell him why we were leaving. All this was done only just in time as the last item [not the cucumber sadly, it was well past its best and was left behind] went into the car, the owner could be seen approaching on his bike as he went round the campers to take their money.

Should we have stayed behind to explain? Well, rather like naughty schoolchildren we ran [or rather drove] away as fast as we could, grumbling at ourselves at having not left straight away the night before, and laughing with relief at having escaped.

Next – disaster [almost] strikes.

I'm going to be sad when this report ends. I'm getting the biggest kick out of it. There's another thread about how to get a job as a travel writer. You should be one!

Ann,

I have to say I've enjoyed reading your report from two perspectives.

1st, the storytelling is excellent and you've kept me quite amused.

2nd, it's allowed me to revel in the skill (or, more likely, luck!?!) that led me to 7 different inns/guesthouses in Iceland without any experiences that would have me fleeing down the road at high rates of speed!

Granted, we traveled in October. This meant that while some places were closed, we were the only patrons at 1/2 of the places we stayed. This meant do backpackers, caravans, etc.

"filled up our empty water-bottles in the toilets" - I am horryfied. In the US, we have drinking fountains for that.

well, thanks to all for the positive feedback.

Maggie - you're too kind. if our government gets its way lawyers like me are going to be redundant so I may need to find another string to my bow!

Astein, - next time, i promise to listen harder to what you have to tell me - and only go to places that you've already tried. It's Newfoundland this year isn't it?

FainaAgain, - water fountains appear to be pretty sparse in european airports. for the avoidance of doubt, however, I meant from the TAPS in the aforesaid facilities, NOT from the toilet bowls.

:S-

regards, ann

Thanks for another adventurous episode, Ann! Sorry to read about the demise of the cucumber, however. I was sure it was going to save the day, somehow, or at least survive until the end. But its presence made for a great title and it deserves a prize for that alone.

Hi moolyn,

yep, me and that curcubit had got quite attached. But as we'd come to the [premature] end of our self-catering, it seemed that the time had come for us to part.

given the state of the "fresh" produce available in Iceland, it probably had several more weeks left in it - who knows - it may still be gracing someone's fridge!

regards, ann

Hey Ann!

We actually end up with Nova Scotia... sort of a last minute decision. I'll let you know how it goes.

You're right that food was always an issue, but we didn't have a single bad meal (expensive, but food was good). Even burgers at the gas station were freshly made with good fries and cold beer.

The most memorable was eating at a truck stop up north. Nobody spoke English, drivers were coming in and out to get new loads, ER was on the TV (in Icelandic), the Talking Heads were on the radio... it was quite surreal... though, everyone was nice and they shared the giant bowl of salad and pudding that was layed out for the truckers.

We actually did OK at the supermarkets... we picnic (while hiking or similar) so we picked up cheese (which was quite good), fruit (good but expensive), bread (from the local bakery that most towns seemed to have), smoke trout or salmon (always good) and hard boiled eggs from the guesthouse breakfast. Add to that a bottle of wine or a beer (cheap at the supermarket) and we were set. Otherwise, it would have been very catch as catch can along the road.

Loads roads are definitely an adventure, but I got to play World Rally Car driver in our little Citroen. Even helped dig a big Toyota minivan out of a snowbank near Dettifoss (it was some Italian tourist we met at dinner the night before).

Hi astein,

yep, by the end of the trip we'd more or less got it too.

guess you're just quicker learners!

i'm really looking forward to your Nova Scotia Trip report.

:S-

regards, ann

Maggi wrote: "There's another thread about how to get a job as a travel writer. You should be one!"

She is one (unfortunately for her, an unpaid one).

Ann,

For some reason I keep picturing the Travelocity roaming gnome commericials with a cucumber playing the part of the gnome... very disturbing!

You definitely should have gotten photos of the cucumber visiting all of the major sites.

"I meant from the TAPS in the aforesaid facilities, NOT from the toilet bowls." - I was only joking... till I realized my mistake! US "toilet" and British "toilet" are not exactly the same!

Hats off to being divided by the common language :))

DAY NINE

Now that we’d escaped the world’s worst self-catering chalet, and found [we hoped] somewhere rather better to rest our heads for the next two nights, we were free to resume our holiday. One of our ideas for the two days [now one] we’d been scheduled to spend on the unpronounceable Snaefellsnes peninsular [it’s that 2nd S that caught me out every time] was to take a whale watching trip, and despite my lack of sea legs, after the huge success of yesterdays’ ferry journey, I was all in favour. [We’ve been on similar trips in north America and south Africa, as well as sometimes seeing minke whales off the Cornish coast, and there’s always a thrill when you first spot the water-spout or splash from a tail or fin.]

Also run by www.seatours.is, the whale-watching boats set out from Olafsvik, about 30kms further west along the north coast of the peninsular, and tickets can be purchased either from the tourist information centre [a very swish renovated building near the harbour] or on board, if they’ve got room. We had phoned ahead to book our tickets so we needed only to pop into the tourist office and pick them up, which worked out at about £40 each – not cheap, but then we were used to that by now. [Btw, the phone calls we made on our UK mobiles in Iceland worked out very reasonably, considering the convenience they gave us of being able to book trips and our emergency hotel in advance]. There was loads of parking next to where the boat was tied up by the quay, [and in Iceland, no fear of the car or its contents being nicked whilst we were at sea] and we were quickly on board. The welcome was slightly off-putting, especially for bad sailors for me and DD – “how are you and here’s your sea-sickness tablet”!

To take to not to take? – well, we reckoned they knew what they were talking about, and as we weren’t going to be driving or using heavy machinery for the next few hours [the trip takes about 4 hours altogether] so we took. And were glad we did.

sorry to break off now - got to go to work.

more later, I hope.

Faina - how do UK and US toilets differ? or is it our use of the word that is different?

S:-

regards, ann

Ann - I am really enjoying your trip report.....Iceland has always appealed to me!
Just for curiosity sake, taking into account airfare, accomodation, food and car hire, did Iceland work out more expensive than South Africa?

Hi allyB,

once you are there, SA can be much cheaper. obviously, if you stay in high end hotels [especially the safari ones] all the time, then it'll cost you. but there are loads of much more reasonable options.

for example, the Radisson was £100 per night per room, [these are June/July and therefore low season prices] whereas the glymur [the expensive hotel we ended up in due to my internet c..up] was nearly twice that.

as for food, you could get a really good meal for £10-15 each; it was at least twice that in Iceland. and car hire!!!! it was about £100 per day for a decent 4WD car, which whatever others might say, was essential. I don't remember how much car hire in SA was , but it was nothing like that.

the flights were much more for us, of course, coming from SA, but IMHO you get much better value.

regards, ann

I'll second much of what Ann wrote...

SA is definitely cheaper once you're there. Even staying at a high-priced private game reserve (Kwandwe for 5 nights... booked thru a SA company and paid for in Rand... saved us about 50%), we spent less money 'on the ground' in SA. The flight, however, was about double the cost.

That said, the difference between the two overall was probably less than 20%. It's not like Iceland was double.

I'll disagree with Ann on one point... you can get away with a 2 wheel drive car. We hauled our little Citroen over the worst Iceland could throw at us... we even helped dig/pull a couple of big SUV's out of snowbanks around Dettifoss. It really depends on how comfortable you are on the kind of rutted up 'goat tracks' that you find in some areas of the country. The key on most of the roads is to find the speed at which the ruts cause the least vibration... usually it's about 5 or 10mph faster than you think you SHOULD be going (plus watch a couple of World Rally Car events before you head over to get yourself in the right frame of mind).

The poor little thing ended up covered in about 2 inches of mud, but it saved on gas and rental fees and the area on top of the dash made a great picnic table.

Where is the rest of this report?!! I'm loving it.

I've only read the first little bit of this report and love it. Now, back to reading!

Sally

I'll disagree with Ann on one point... you can get away with a 2 wheel drive car. We hauled our little Citroen over the worst Iceland could throw at us... >>

and I'm going to disagree with astein in a petty tit for tat sort of way! i wouldn't dream of trying to get over those goat-tracks in any thing less than a 4-WD. Though I do agree that going a bit faster than your instinct is telling you to is a good tactic - if nothing else, you spend less time being shaken to bits.

Bostongal - hello again. I just met you on another thread.

I realise that I broke off mid boat trip. how remiss of me. Ann's new new year's resolution: finish iceland trip report before we go to Krakow. [don't get your hopes up - it's in april!].

regards, ann

WIMP! :)

BACK TO THE TRIP REPORT.

DAY NINE continued, aka "The ups and downs of travel".

My experience of boat trips has not always been good - in fact i enjoy about 1 out of 10. so after the joys of yesterday's ferry ride, i had no great hopes for this trip, especially as previous whale watching journeys had been so good. The first part of the journey out towards the chilly atlantic didn't disappoint [or rather it did] as it was predictably boring, so we took advantage of the free tea and coffee, and looked smug when those who hadn't taken the offer of the sea-sickness tablets looked increasingly green about the gills.

After a while we went up on deck, just for something to do, and enjoyed a great diving show from some passing gannets who were doing what they do best, which is diving vertically from an improbable height into the brimy foam, and coming up with a fish. and then doing it again. After that occasionally someone would shout that there was a fin "at two o'clock" but really there was very little to see and the time for the boat to turn round and return to port in order to pick up passengers for the afternoon trip was fast approaching.

our spirits were also dampened somewhat by talking to another english family who'd got free tickets having been on the boat the day before and seen nothing. then just as we were giving up hope, there was another shout, there just ahead of the boat was a pod of killer whales or orchas, possibly as many as 8, adults and calves. we stayed in the area for about 30 minutes or so, and so far as we could tell, the orchas were very comfortable with our prescence as they made no attempt to move away. The sun came out so we took loads of snaps, most of them rubbish, and even at £5 an orcha, it was well worth it.

of course, the boat did eventually have to turn round, but even then the whales followed us for a while. in truth, we didn't see much else of interest, but it didn't seem to matter.

when we got back into port the weather was on the turn, and it must be said that our impression overall of the snaefellsnes peninsular was not a good one. in fact the nadir [probably of our whole trip] was reached when we tried to explore a track off the main road which was supposed to lead up onto the glacier, and I was trying to reverse the car and
ended up almost sending us over the edge of a cliff. for some reason [tiredness after that dreadful night's non-sleep?] I just could not turn the steering wheel in the right direction, and for the first and only time in my life I had to get out from behind the wheel and hand over to DH who was being somewhat less than patient. the shame! the expletives deleted!

the rest of the journey to the our emergency hotel was completed in that polite and frosty silence which I'm sure you all know only too well, with DH giving every appearance of being asleep [I was driving again] and me both seething inside, and hoping like hell that the hotel, which was coting about twice what we'd paid everywhere else, it live up to expectations.

we got there after about 2 hours drive, and so far as we could see through the rain and mist, it looked OK, though the outside wasn't exactly pretty. The inside however, was a different kettle of lamb soup and I could feel us all start to relax as soon as we stepped into reception. Even DH started to smile. Warm and bright, with lots of local artifacts it immediately felt like home, and before we'd said who we were, we'd been greeted warmly and offered tea or coffee. Then after the obligatory guided tour, we were shown to our rooms [not adjoining, but the kids don't need that anymore and we certainly don't]. this was more like it. split level with a view over the fjord [if you could see it] there was a downstairs sitting area with a telly, tea and coffee making equipment and wet-room, and upstairs very comfy bed with a great view. Heaven - see http://www.glymurresort.com/

to entertain us indoors there was a library, free internet access and a fabulous lounge with the view; outside there were twin hot-tubs, and robes for visiting them. DH went for a nap, and me and the kids sat and read and then used the hot-tubs - we weren't going anywhere else that day.

in the evening we decided that we'd try the restaurant, and were very glad we did - the food was definitely a cut above virtually anything else we had in Iceland, though at the price it should have been. i suppose that it worked out at £40 a head including glasses of wine as opposed to a bottle. This is definitely a hotel I would recommend to honeymooners or those who want to splash out for a couple of days or so, but not for a long break as it's rather a long way to anything else!

As for the night, suffice to say that it was as different from the night before as could possobly be imagined and peaceful marital relations were resumed!

Tomorrow - anyone know where to get a tyre repaired in Reykjavik?

What? Wait! Is there more? How does one get a tyre repaired in Reykjavik?

Just happened to stumble across this post. I laughed about the title and have been reading it on and off for the last few nights. DH has enjoyed the snippets I've read to him as well.

Just saw you have a post on your latest trip to Italy. Am going to save up for another time. Thank you for the wonderful and hilarious posts. Also, I now have some material with which to formulate an answer for DH's question, "Why would anyone want to visit Iceland?"

hi ellens,

glad you're enjoying it. the title is [you probably guessed this] a tribute to Tony Hawks' "Round Ireland with a fridge", so i can't take any plaudits for originality.

Here goes with

DAY 10

the day dawned or rather crept in drizzly and miserable, so we decided to take a day trip to Reykjavik and explore the museums etc. it was a fairly boring 90 minute drive along the busiest roads we encountered in the whole trip before we hit the town and luckiy DH's map-reading skills were up to finding our way into the centre. As it was DH navigating, we were bound to spend a not inconsiderable amount of time looking for a parking spot we didn't have to pay for. this accomplished, our luck ran out because it was apparent that one tyre was considerably lower than the rest, and getting worse. a slow puncture was diagnosed, and the only remedy would be a tyre repair.

were we going to spend all day looking for a tyre replace outfit? or go and enjoy ourselves? having secured a free parknig spot, the answer was obvious so ignoring the gentle whistle coming from the tyre, we headed off into town. truthfully, although Reykjavik is big compared to other places in Iceland, London it isn't. I suppose we wandered around for about 30 minutes til the rain started again, and we decided to make for the nearest museum. this turned out to be the National Museum of Iceland and if you only do one museum in the whole of Iceland, make it this one. it is airy, well-laid out, has a great cafe, AND has explanations in Icelandic and English. [tough if you're french of course!] for me, the most fascinating part was the DNA research into the origins of the Icelandic people; the men turn out to be Scandanavian, but the women are Celts. all those tales of raping and pillaging turn out to be true! but there was loads about boats, fishing, clothing [with costumes to try on and be photographed in and not just for the kids] the parliaments, etc.etc. a really great 2-3 hours.

after than we had a late lunch in the cafe [served by some bloke from Brum who turned out to speak about as much Icelandic as us] and after purchasing some postcards in the gift shop, we went off to look round any bits of Reykjavik we'd missed. which turned out to be not very many.

as all the restaurants we walked past were even more expensive than the one back at the Glymur, and we wanted to see the Saga Museum and Perlan just outside town on the way back to Borganes, we couldn't put off the busines of the tyre any longer, so after a quick flip round the cathedral [lift to the top out of order] we went back to the car, and limped to the nearest petrol station, where the kind attendants gave us directions to the nearest tyre repair place. this turned out to be back along the ring road [which follows the sea wall, more or less] and past the viking monument. asy enough to find, and after some waiting about, the chap said he'd repair it in an hour or so. what to do? if we waited that long, the Perlan would be shut, so rather than hang about, we decided to drive out to the Perlan and hope that it wouldnt' prove so fascinating that we missed our slot back at town.

NO CHANCE. The best bits were undoubtedly the artificial geysir in the foyer and the view from the top. the rest was rather tame ersatz Madames Tussauds. so it was no hardship to tear ourselves away and go back to sort out the tyre. the viking sculpture proved to be a very helpful signpost and we found the place amazingly easily. once it was done, [using a combination of our bad icelandic and his equally bad english] we had to pay. Frankly he could have charged us anything,and it was a nice surprise that the bill came to the equivalent of a very reasonable £20.

then it was back to the sactuary of the Glymur hotel and a relaxing dip in the hot tub before dinner. the menu hadn't changed, but we all had different choices; this might have proved difficult if one were staying for longer than two nights! then it was off to raid the library [some boks in english, many but not all very deep socialogical texts wich you don't necessarily want on your hols, but I'm being picky] enjoy our luxurious room and do a bit of packing before setting off on our last day. what a find.

tomorrow - Day 11 - mudbaths and alarm clocks.