When travelling, some places by their culture, scenery or language can give a stronger feeling than normal of being in another country, but with everything I have viewed and read about Iceland, during the days ahead I may feel that I am actually on another planet.
With extreme
geological contrasts, glaciers that touch the ocean, spectacular panoramic
views, snow-capped mountains, floating icebergs, hot springs, black sand
beaches shaped by fire, staggering waterfalls that roar like thunder, steaming
lava fields, powerful geysers and skies painted with northern lights, I am more
than a little excited to finally see, in a small way, what the elemental forces
of nature has given this part of the world, in the land of fire and ice.
With the
North Atlantic Ocean to the south and west, the Greenland Sea to the north, the
Norwegian Sea to the east, and the Denmark Strait separating it from Greenland
to the northwest, Iceland sits on a constantly active geologic border (the
mid-Atlantic ridge) between Europe and North America.
This little
Nordic and Arctic country with a population of only 392,000, has been high on
my Bucket List for many years. My earliest memories and interest date back to
the 1970’s, when I observed with much curiosity Britain’s war with Iceland ~
well not exactly an armed conflict, but instead a fair bit of pushing and
shoving during what was the Cod Wars.
The
"Cod Wars" were a series of disputes between Iceland and the Britain
from the 1950s to the 1970s over fishing rights in the North Atlantic. The
confrontations involved the Icelandic Coast Guard, known in the British press
as the “Gunboats”, and the Royal Navy, over Iceland’s gradual expansion of its
fishing limits, followed by Britain’s attempts to protect its own fishing
fleets.
The first
Cod War (1958–1961) ~ Iceland expanded its limits from 4 to 12 nautical miles.
This resulted in light confrontations, with Britain eventually recognizing the 12-mile
claim in exchange for British fishing rights.
The second
Cod War (1972–1973) ~ Iceland extended its limit to 50 nautical miles, leading
to more serious clashes, including multiple net-cutting incidents.
The third
Cod War (1975–1976) ~ Iceland claimed a 200-nautical-mile exclusive economic
zone. This conflict escalated further, with incidents of ships being rammed,
and Iceland briefly severing diplomatic ties with Britain.
The
conflicts were not full-scale military wars, but involved a series of
escalating confrontations between Icelandic Coast Guard Cutters and British
trawlers, often with the Royal Navy providing a deterrent force to protect the
trawlers. Iceland's strategy of threatening to leave NATO, followed by pressure
from the United States on Britain to avoid jeopardizing the alliance, were eventually
the key factors in Iceland's victory. The conflicts ended when Britain conceded
to Iceland's 200-mile claim in 1976, leading to international recognition of
such zones later through the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea.
My other
interest with the country comes from Iceland’s WWII history, which involved one
of my relatives, who was part of Britain’s occupation of the country during
that war. I will write more about this in a later blog during the “Iceland
2026” visit.
In a
similar way to other overseas trips, I have carefully planned this one, with hikes
to many waterfalls, glaciers, lava fields, together with the occasional wander
on volcanic beaches, and perhaps one or two unplanned stops in between. Another
important aspect of the planning, has been careful consideration to the
expected long days at this time of the year…
Two years
ago, I had a wonderful week in the North-West Highlands of Scotland, a location
where I spent a lot of time as a young lad during the 1970’s and 80’s. While
there in June 2024, I was reminded very quickly, at some cost, just how long
the days were that far north. I recall sunset occurred at 10.30pm with twilight
at 11.40pm. Then full sunrise occurring at 4.18am with twilight at 3.08am,
giving just over 18 hours of daylight ~ the result was, I lost a lot of sleep. Iceland
is about 7° further north from that Scottish Highland location, and 20° when
compared to my home in Nova Scotia. In Iceland the daylight hours will be
almost 21.5 hours, with sunset at 12.11am and sunrise at 2.48am. By comparison,
Nova Scotia at the same time of the year has 15.5 hours of daylight. So, with
the aid of a well-fitting Sleep Mask, I am hoping the midnight sun on this trip
will not steal my sleep, in a land where in the summer, night is more of a suggestion than a reality.
After an overnight flight from Halifax, I arrived at just before 5.00am local time at Keflavik International Airport, located about 50Km southwest of Iceland’s capital Reykjavík. After a brief dust down, I picked up my rental car, then drove 109Km via the south coast town of Grindavik to Selfoss.
Located on the edge of Iceland’s Reykjanes Peninsula, the
fishing town of Grindavik is now a world-famous destination with an active
volcano in its backyard. On November 10, 2023, the town was evacuated as magma
moved a few hundred feet beneath the town. Due to this volcanic unrest, nearly
3800 residents left their homes that day. Then a couple of months later in
January 2024, a fissure erupted near Hagafell Mountain sending lava into
northern Grindavik, damaging several homes.
Grindavik in January 2024 …
The dangers of this geologically active region are highlighted by the recommendations and warnings in the area to proceed with caution. I am told the ground can shift unexpectedly with the ongoing seismic activity, producing cracks underneath the surface ~ fortunately I am only just passing through on my way to Selfoss.
Although “just
passing through”, I have to say it was one of the most interesting and fascinating
driving experiences of my life. The last time I had a feeling like this while
driving, was during summer 1989, when I was briefly working in California. At
the time, I took a drive on my own into the Mojave Desert. It was an experience
I will never forget, for the overwhelming feeling of being the only person left
on the planet. There were no other cars, it was extremely hot, barren, no vegetation,
endless dramatic flat sands, with similarly coloured parallel mountain ranges ~
all together it was rather scary.
Well this morning’s very early drive just south of Grindavik, was similarly scary with that same feeling of being alone on the planet. With no other cars to be seen, it was extremely damp, low cloud and cool. There was no hint of vegetation, instead there was endless acres of the deepest of black coloured lava, watched over by matching coloured parallel flat-top mountain ranges. While driving, I occasionally could spot parts of a parallel road to the one I was on, that looked like lava had crawled all over it, then looking a little further in the distance I could see pockets of steam bellowing out the ground. It was incredible, I had never seen anything like it before. Unfortunately, I could not stop to take photos, it is extremely frowned upon here to pull over and park, even when the roads are completely empty.
After that excitement, I had my planned stop in Selfoss to stock up on supplies,
which will hopefully keep me fed, functioning and happy for the next six days, while
exploring some remote south coast locations, before returning to spend my final
days in Reykjavík. My first two nights are on a dairy farm 46Km east of Hvolsvöllur, about
96Km from Selfoss.
Along the
way from Selfoss, I stopped at two waterfalls …
Urriðafoss
Throughout
my “Iceland 2026” blogs, you will see many words ending with “foss”, which in
Icelandic means waterfall. My first experience of a foss was at Urriðafoss. Translated
“Urriðafoss” means Sea Trout Waterfall. With a flow rate of 360 cubic metres
per second, it has the highest average water flow of any waterfall in Iceland,
and the second highest in Europe.
Seljalandsfoss
and Gljúfrabúi
The next
stop before my farm lodgings was at Seljalandsfoss. Surrounded by green
hills and volcanic rock, Seljalandsfoss is a waterfall that invites you to walk
behind its cascading 60m high curtain of water for a unique prospective, all
while getting a little wet ~ fortunately I came prepared for this, with
waterproofs that covered me from head to toe. The waterfall is part of the Seljalands
River system that has its origin in the volcano glacier Eyjafjallajökull.
A short
hike from Seljalandsfoss is Gljúfrabúi, which means “canyon dweller” in
Icelandic. The name refers to the waterfall being partially hidden from view
within a canyon. Following along a trail provides access to the narrow canyon
where water falls 40m from a cliff into the majestic pool. Like its neighbour, Gljúfrabúi
it is part of Seljalands River, which starts as snow on the Eyjafjallajokull
Glacier Volcano. The canyon walls consist of black basalt rock that formed as a
result of thousands of years of volcanic activity.
A little further east to the farm ...
