Trip to Iceland and Finland

This July, my family went on a trip to Iceland and Finland. It was my first real vacation (not just a reunion at my former university, or visiting family for a birthday or holiday) in over two years, and it was so necessary.

In Iceland, we did some more or less intense touring — less intense than what guide books suggest, but more intense than what we usually do, with four hotels in seven days, and quite some time in the car. After arriving on an overnight flight, we relaxed most of the day at the Blue Lagoon. I had heard it was a little touristy, but I didn’t think it was overcrowded. Worth the visit.

One cool thing was that there was a volcanic eruption a few months prior, but we had been told that only the parking lot of the Blue Lagoon had been affected. I thought “okay, so maybe a few inches of lava?” But when we drove to the Blue Lagoon, we were on a temporary gravel road and suddenly saw the original, permanent road six to ten feet below us. That’s a lot of lava!

Speaking of Lava, we ate at the Lava restaurant at the Blue Lagoon, and while it was expensive, it was a great dining experience. Jenny enjoyed her catch-of-the-day (unfortunately, we don’t remember what it was), Kate had very tasty fish and chips that was not a kids meal at all, and I had the best lamb I have ever had.

Later that day, we picked up my mom, who was arriving from Finland, and then drove to the Frost & Fire Boutique Hotel in Hveragerði. When we got there, we weren’t quite sure we were in the right place. There was a lot of steam coming out of several vents, there seemed to be just several huts, and it wasn’t clear where the reception was, or if there was one at all.

We were in the right place, and I wish we had been able to stay there longer than just one night. We stayed in small cabins. They were a little tight, but cozy and private. There were a couple of hot tubs, a swimming pool, and an amazing geothermally-powered restaurant, Restaurant Varma. My mom and I had what was probably the best food of the whole trip there. The breakfast here was also amazing, with not quite as many options as in some of the more corporate hotels later in the trip, but with a homelier quality somehow.

The next day, we explored the area behind the hotel and the local Geothermal Park. We enjoyed watching the very regular geyser there and learned quite a bit about the history and ecology of geothermal power. For example, shepherds used geothermal vents to steam-bake their bread while they grazed their flocks. And that there is a specific spider near the streams that only eats a specific fly that lives there, which only eats the specific algae found in the volcanic stream and nowhere else.

After that, we drove on to a major tourist destination, the gigantic Gullfoss waterfall. It still wasn’t too crowded, but you definitely weren’t alone. Still a worthwhile sight. Even Kate said “whoa” when she caught her first sight of it.

Here, we did notice how expensive Iceland is, though. We spent the equivalent of USD 90 on four sandwiches. We drove on, more to the southeast, towards Vik, where we had booked a riding tour on Icelandic horses. We hit more and more one-lane bridges and areas where there were no fences separating the grazing sheep from the highway. The agent at the car rental place had warned us to not run over sheep, and we had thought it must be a joke (especially since he said if we had the choice, we should run over the rams and not the ewe), but now it was a real possibility.

Icelandic horses are smaller than most other horses, and have a genetic mutation that allows them to run in a gait others cannot, the tolt. This was useful, since the roads were usually pretty bad and limited, which meant horses weren’t used to pull carts, but as pack horses to carry goods and people. Icelanders are also very protective of their horses — foreign horses aren’t allowed on the island, and if an Icelandic horse leaves, it can never return. Since there are no predators on the island that could take down a horse, Icelandic horses actually lie down to rest, something you never see with other horses.

Icelandic horses are also very cute, and we thought there can’t possibly be anything cuter. But we were wrong. Icelandic foals are even more adorable.

After the horse adventure on the black beach, we went to a grocery store to get supplies for Jenny’s and my planned guided climb of Hvannadalshnúkur, the highest peak in Iceland. Then we drove on to the Fosshotel Glacier Lagoon, where we planned to leave Kate and my mom while Jenny and I climbed. Just after we checked in, we found out that our climb had been canceled, because of rain, too warm weather, and unstable snow bridges.

If we had found out just a tad bit earlier, before checking in, we perhaps would have stayed in Vik and saved some money — the Fosshotel Glacier Lagoon was outrageously expensive, but also pleasant. Kate enjoyed the hot tub, the sauna, and the sheep around it. Vik would have had more options to do things, though, but now it was too late. We changed our plans (“Plans are worthless, but planning is everything.”) and decided that Jenny and I would still hike in Skaftafell area and would try to scramble Kristinartindar on July 5. This way, we would hopefully still get a peak in, and Kate got her much desired time alone with her grandmother.

But we had another day before that, and we went to Diamond Beach. This was the first time we could try to get an understanding of the vastness of the Vatnajökull glaciated area. We noted the retreat of the glacier here as well — at the end of the 19th century, we would have been standing on the glacier, now it was miles away; saw eider birds brood without moving and learned about the use of their down; and climbed on little icebergs that looked like diamonds in the sunlight, acting as the namesakes of Diamond Beach.

On the way back, we partially hiked into the Mulagljufur canyon. To speed up the progress, we carried Kate on our shoulders for good stretches, something I really enjoy. I miss having Kate in the carrier backpack and going on long hikes with her, with elevation gain, while talking about everything we see, but the pack became too small for her a long time ago, and I don’t know how much longer I can even carry her safely on my shoulders. She needs to hike on her own two feet, something she is absolutely capable of for miles and lots of elevation… when she wants to.

In the evening, we had dinner at the Fosshotel. It was good, but too expensive for what it was. Maybe I only feel like that because of the amazing food I had the first night at the Restaurant Varma. The breakfast, on the other hand, was great here.

The next morning, Jenny and I hit that breakfast buffet as soon as it opened — a benefit of the cancellation. Otherwise, we would have done an alpine start and missed breakfast — then drove to the Skaftafell base camp area from where our climb also would have started. We helped some very confused Japanese tourists (“I don’t know where your tour group meets, but here is a map”), then hiked towards the first waterfalls.

We decided to visit Magnúsarfoss and Svartifoss early in the day, before too many people show up, even though our true objective was the Kristinartindar summit. The trail up to these waterfalls, and a little bit beyond that, was of really high quality, either with wooden boardwalks and stairs, or with some kind of metal grid tiles that provided a lot of traction. Svartifoss was beautiful, with curved basalt columns that we’ve never seen anywhere else.

After that, we backtracked a little bit and headed towards the Skaftafell Glacier observation point, where we met a large group, and then we were alone for most of the day. We had decided to hike counter-clockwise, against what most guides had suggested, because we wanted to be able to see up-glacier for most of the hike. The added benefit was that we ended up going up the sketchiest, steepest section near 2900 feet elevation, to the southeast of Kristinartindar, rather than going down.

We could see how long of a trip it would have been up the Skaftafell Glacier, but most of the upper mountain towards Hvannadalshnúkur remained obscured in the clouds for most of the day.

The final off-trail scramble to the summit of Kristinartindar looked more difficult than it ended up being. There was a fair amount of scree and loose rocks, and we successfully worked to not kick any of it down, but the actual route to the summit remained elusive until almost to the end. All we saw were drop-offs left and right. We dropped our packs at about 3500 feet elevation because we knew we had to be close and because it looked like it might get interesting, turned a corner, and saw that it was a walk-up from here.

We hit the summit, which was near some kind of obelisk-like structure, and then went on the knife edge a little farther, to a point where we could really see the drop-off on both sides. I had my Snickers, which I had planned to eat on Mount Rainier earlier this year, and then we turned around, picked up our packs, and scrambled down the scree slope to a super-massive cairn at 3100 feet elevation, where we rejoined the trail and had lunch.

Then it was mainly down, down, down for long periods of time, but there was nothing difficult anymore. We looked backwards several times, to make sure we didn’t miss anything, but the western side of the Kristinartindar loop does seem to offer fewer views. That, plus the fact that we had to go up instead of down on a steep section means I really recommend doing this loop counter-clockwise, like we did.

At the very end, we did see what we think must have been the Hvannadalshnúkur summit, peeking through the clouds. We know it wasn’t just the clouds that lead to the cancellation of the climb, mainly the unsafe snow bridges, but we still felt somewhat spited by the mountain gods.

We got back to the Skaftafell base camp, but before packing up, we asked the guides when the best time to climb Hvannadalshnúkur would be. We were told late May (though there might be bad weather) to mid June (although this year, May was so hot, it was starting to get tricky even in June). The best way would be to live in Iceland for a year and just time the weather that way.

A good trip. In the end, the destination counts much less than the time you spend out in nature with wonderful company.

To be continued…