Sunday, July 13, 2014

Iceland - Part 4

The main idea behind going to Iceland was to spend some time exploring around the North, using the town of Akureyri as a home base.  (The previous post, which implied that the flight to Akureyri was induced by a combination of jet lag and marketing was more saga than history.)  I had arranged for a car rental, and while waiting for the car to be delivered to the airport I said a short prayer, asking to be saved from having to drive a manual transmission.

It worked.  I am reminded of Marge Simpson: "After all, God works for us. Our prayers pay his salary."

Anyhoo, after checking in to the second smallest hotel room in the Nordic countries, I took a nap, and then took to the roads.

I totally had a passenger take this picture for me.  Safety first.
Gratuitous duplicate picture posting, because seriously, look at it.
I didn't bother dividing up the pictures between Sunday evening and Monday morning, because the night didn't bother dividing those two days up ... so why should I?  So I can tell you where I went, but not exactly when.

Goðafoss

This was my second lifetime visit to Godafoss -- which means "waterfall of the gods" (roughly).  It received its name when one Þorgeir Þorkelsson Ljósvetningagoði, the lawspeaker of Althingi in 999 A.D., after having decided that Iceland would abandon its Norse religion and adopt Christianity, threw the statutes of his Norse gods into the waterfall.  

Given Iceland's penchant for long and unpronounceable names, I'm a little surprised that they settled for the rather pedestrian "Goðafoss" instead of Ljósvetningagoðurfoss. 






Selfoss and Dettifoss

After renewing my acquaintance with Goðafoss, I continued on my planned itinerary.  The next stop, and the furthest extent of my itinerary, were the twin falls known as Selfoss and Dettifoss. Dettifoss has a 5-star rating on Google, so you know it has gotten good reviews. It is also said to be the most powerful waterfall in Europe.  Selfoss is on the same river and is actually a little bit upstream -- about a 15 minute "hike" (walk, really). Dettifoss is a hugely powerful, single waterfall; Selfoss is perhaps not as powerful but is more picturesque, as it has a number of smaller falls over the intricate rock formations.

Or, you can decide for yourself. The pictures here aren't so great because, frankly ... it's hard to capture the essence of a huge waterfall on camera, especially if you are photographically declined like me. Also, the batteries died before I got all the way down to Dettifoss, so I may have missed out on a better shot.
Selfoss

Selfoss - I like this view because of the comparatively tiny fall on the right.

Selfoss, from a distance.
Dettifoss, from a considerable distance.
Not a great shot, but it gives a better sense of scale.

 There will be some general, philosophical thoughts about waterfalls below, but I wanted to include the following picture.  This was taken standing roughly parallel to the base of the waterfall, looking downstream. The cliffs on the far side extend for about 250 yards from the base point.  At some point in geological history, the falls began at the edge of that cliff, and they have eroded the solid rock for a full 250 yards.  A little bit downstream, you can see the even more profound effect that Dettifoss had (is having, really) on the landscape. (You can see it, but it's hard to photograph.)  I just think that this is pretty damn impressive, Mother Nature.
My qualifications for making statements about geology: my college roommate was a geology major.
Also, I like to think of Iceland as "Darwin's Playground", because it rewards the brave and moronic with many spectacular opportunities for death and/or serious embarrassment (both of which tend to limit the chances of reproductive success.) The picture below was taken from a view about 150 yards from the edge of the cliff. The camera was full zoomed-in. This honeymooning couple from England (natch) decided to pose for a spectacular shot on the extremely slippery and windy brink.

Yes, I was rooting for nature to win this one...sorry, humanity.
There were a few tense moments -- I didn't actually want to witness someone falling into the waterfall, so yes, they were tense -- but nature relented and allowed them to escape.  For now.  I have a feeling nature isn't done with these two.

Motivating Around

After these spectacular sights, I decided to take a little detour and visit the town of Husavik, because why not right? I don't have a lot to say about the town -- as expected, there wasn't much there -- but the journey was interesting.  Iceland's main roads aren't all paved.  I knew this, but what caught me off guard is that the road to Husavik starts out as paved, and after about 10km, for no apparent reason, it becomes a gravel road.  It is surprisingly hard to drive on a gravel road for any period of time, as I found out.  After a while, I caught up with a road grader and followed it for a few kilometers.  So they were literally remaking the road for me, which was very thoughtful.  A few kilometers before Husavik, the road suddenly and inexplicably became paved again.  Hmm.

On the way back through Mývatn, heading back toward Akureyri, I decided to take a stop at the Nature Baths.  This is a geothermal spa that is basically built into the lava fields.  The water is mineral-rich, and a slight sulfur smell permeates the area.  The temperature varies throughout the area, so you can move from warm spots to hot spots as you like.  If you hold your hand (or whatever else) three inches below the surface of the water, you can't see it -- the mineral content is that high.  Being in a nice hot spa, which is outdoors, while the weather is about 38 degrees and windy, is quite an experience.  Worth the 3,500 kronur?  Absolutely.

And, that was it.  Back in the car, back to town, fill up the rental car, and return it to the airport. Hop a flight, then walk with my luggage to the bus terminal, take the bus back to Keflavik and I'm pretty much done with Iceland.  At this point I am physically exhausted, but pretty happy with Iceland.  I keep reminding myself that Iceland was just a stop; I'm here to see the Faroe Islands.  But tomorrow I will deliver myself into the hands of our guide, and I won't have to worry or plan or anything.

Iceland was definitely a success. I think I proved a little something to myself, that I can plan a reasonably cost-effective trip to see some sights.  Maybe next time I will provide more time for sleeping and relaxing. But maybe not. There is something about being up north in the summertime, with the limited amount of nighttime available, that encourages all-nighters.  There was a lot on this short visit that I didn't document here.  Long walks around towns that used to be random, unpronounceable points on a map. Meals that were subtly, or not so subtly, exotic.  The thrill of being on your own in an unfamiliar place.  Or taking a deep breath of ice-cold air in early July.

The one drawback to Iceland is that I didn't have much interaction with people.  It was pretty much just me, by myself, and keeping to myself.  Most of the time, that is not a problem. Nature is more than a sufficient companion when you are being misted by an immense waterfall, with the thundering noise edging stray thoughts from your mind.  But I longed to have a friend with me as I drove over the green and hilly landscape, avoiding sheep and gravel roads and British tourists. An iPod just isn't the same -- even if it does have the hippest playlist known to humanity (modesty, right). 

I am certain that the Faroes will be different.

Bonus - Random Thoughts about Waterfalls

[warning: unabashed philosophical and religious material ahead]
The well-known American philosopher, Ferris Bueller, once rendered this statement:
Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you might miss it.
This statement is practically teeming in truth. It is plainly obvious, frequently overlooked, and catchy -- all of which combine to make it a worthy aphorism. Standing on the shoulders of this giant, I was struck involuntarily by a thought when I was walking away from Selfoss and judging the amount of energy being expended by the falls, and the effect it has over geological time.  While neither catchy nor obvious, I think this is frequently overlooked, so I will share the thought with you:
Life moves pretty slow. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you might not notice it happening at all.
I believe that these two statements can happily coexist. The fact of the matter is, we frequently take for granted the basic facts of our own existence, and our own environment. I think there is some value in taking a moment to realize why our planet is the way it is -- where did it come from, and how did it get this way? What changes do nature's forces cause? What changes do we cause, little by little, without even noticing?

I think there is value in examining our own selves, too.  What holds us together, physically?  What are the biological and chemical processes that need to continue on a constant basis in order to keep us alive? What makes me different from an animal, or a plant, or a rock, or the wind... and what makes me the same as these?

Yes, these are far-out-there questions that perhaps don't need to be asked. But I think we pay a penalty of sorts when we become disconnected from what makes us, us, and what makes here, here.  Life does move fast, but it also moves slow; noticing the slow can give us a great sense of perspective.  Honestly, a lot of things have had to go right for many of the good things in life (even life itself) to be as they are. I think that is worth reflecting on.

For me, that provokes a religious feeling, one of thanksgiving to God. It also gives me a feeling of "rightness" and connected-ness with the world, which I think are positives that anyone can enjoy. And we can have this feeling not only at great waterfalls in Iceland, but at home, or on the road, or in the office...anywhere we are. And that sense of thankfulness can go with us. And now I think I fully understand the following phrase from my church's liturgy, and affirm it here:
It is right, and a good and joyful thing, always and everywhere to give thanks to you, Father Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth.