The next day, we drove along the southern coast road. As you might be able to see from the photos, it was rainy. And misty. And foggy. Not the best of days to take photos, but a really good day to see waterfalls!
This particular one was glacier fed, and was cascading off the side of Eyjafjallajökull. COoooOOOoooold. Very very very cold. Apparently, as cold as a million ice cubes, according to Mr. Munchkin.
So, when we climbed behind the waterfall, we only stayed long enough to pick up a rock for Mr. Ninja's ever-growing collection. Of course, it was muddy and grotty...so the boys rinsed it in the little stream flowing from the waterfall, screaming the entire time about how cold the water was. Yeesh.
We continued on our merry way, and while driving along, the rainclouds began to rise. This treated us to quite the view.
The notorious volcano.
And the valley beside it, still covered in ash.
The difference between the field that had been cleaned and those left fallow was remarkable.
At one point, I made Mr. Ninja stop the car so that I could hop out and grab a bag of volcanic ash. I don't really know why I wanted some, it was just an impulse. It's got the most peculiar texture to it...almost granular. The bag is happily living in an Icelandic cheese box. Don't ask. It's got vikings on it, 'nuff said.
Kept on driving, and we passed this abandoned house that was built into the volcano.
I tell you, whoever built this place either had cahones the size of boulders, or was really really dumb. But dude. Respect. (Said in an Ali G voice.) It's almost like the builder was taunting the volcano, telling it that it smelt like elderberries...
We arrived at Skogar next - home to another gorgeous waterfall, and one of the best folk museums I've even been in. Why, you ask, is this one so special?
You can see that there's a video documenting this moment. If you watch the movie, my jaw drops wiiiide open, and my pupils dilate. But you knitters understand...right? It was called the knitting and spinning room, and it was incredibly hard for the rest of the crew to drag me out of there. I vaguely remember some kicking and screaming and clinging to the door jam...might have been me. Dunno. Things got a little hazy once I saw the looms.
The museum also had some preserved buildings that had been moved onto the grounds - most of them were of the traditional turf house type. You might think that they would be damp, dark and rather unpleasant, eh?
But this particular one was almost hobbitish - a very sweet place to call home, I imagine.
Back on the road, on our way to Vik, I saw this farm and rather liked the look of it. Looks like a nice place to watch the grass grow, and to count your sheep.
A short drive later, we were on the beach. The very very cold beach.
Look! Black sand!
The three stone columns in the surf are supposedly trolls that turned into stone when daylight struck them. The kids kept themselves busy, stomping up and down the beach to stay warm.
We stayed for quite awhile, but the novelty wore off (we do live in Nova Scotia, after all - where there are WARM beaches) and we headed back to the cottage.
After all, when you have this to come back to...it's almost a shame to leave the hot pot in the first place.
2 comments:
Looks like such an awesome trip. I would've wanted to play in that knitting/spinning room all day.
*pulls out pen, adds Iceland to "places I must see before I die" list*
Beautiful. Simply, Beautiful.
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