Iceland: "We're not drowning!"

Our final day in Iceland began with a trek up through some little, slightly confusing back streets to the enormous Hallgrimskirkja. Named after a poet. Apparently. It's pretty impressive from the outside, but I couldn't help thinking the inside looked a lot like papier mache. It's not. It's concrete. Very plain. I'm too used to English churches and all the nice carving.

Anyhoos, we decided to check out the view from the top of that there massive tower. Toddled up in a lift and then up into the chamber just below the bells. At about 10:55.

Here are some pretty views from the top.

And then it hit 11am. And we were deafened. Almost. Jesus Christ, it was loud. Yes, I know this is to be expected when you're standing almost directly below the bells, but damn.

Then it snowed on us when we left. Snowy snowy snowy. Pretty sure it barely stopped snowing the entire time we were there.

Slightly deaf, we headed back into the shopping area to pick up some little souvenirs. I acquired... well, not a lot. I was looking for something in the same vein as my manaia necklace from New Zealand - something quite traditionally Icelandic. I settled for geologically Icelandic instead and found myself a nice little necklace with a lump of lava. Funny looking little thing. Full of holes. It hasn't yet taken the place of my manaia which has become one of those rare things that I wear daily.

Moving on. It was still snowing on and off once we'd completed our perusal of the shops so we found somewhere to have lunch instead. Little place just along from the Laundromat Cafe called Cafe Paris, where we had lovely tagliatelle. Om nom nom. I wasn't quite so enamoured with the place when I spotted whale on the mains menu. Grr.

Lunch nommed (regardless of the fact that had I realised they were serving whale, I would have insisted on going elsewhere), we headed off again, this time in search of the National Museum of Iceland. Very interesting, if a little bit small. Some really amazing artefacts from the early period of settlement. Plenty to satisfy inner child who was in love with the Vikings.

Amusingly enough for me, one of the last exhibits in the museum was a set of wire cutters used during the Cod Wars. Being from Grimsby, this was endlessly amusing, especially since we'd spent the last few days joking that I shouldn't tell the Icelanders I'm Grimbarian in case the Cod Wars came up. Don't know what they are? Go google it. Basically our fishing fleet had an argument with the Icelanders about who could fish where and then the Navy got involved and it got a bit... fraught.

Warmed up and full of random knowledge about Iceland we headed back to the hotel to grab our things for the evening. We stopped at the bakery again on the way and acquired some more pastries/cakes for tea. Om nom.

And then we drank tea. Because we're English and this is what we do when there's nought else to do.

All nicely relaxed, we got picked up to go to the Blue Lagoon, the famous geothermal spa place. Much as I wanted to go, I'd been expecting some disappointment - it's always seemed so overhyped.

I was wrong. Such a lovely way to spend the evening. Lovely warm water (hitting 36 degrees plus in places, which was a bit burny), relatively clear skies and then it snowed. It's a bizarre experience, lounging about in such warm water with snow falling on your head. Definitely worth it.

Not so great was the lifeguard who (understandably) kept shining a massive searchlight across the pool to make sure no one was drowning. We got a bit giggly about that. We weren't drowning. Did get beached at one point attempting to see if it was snow or salt on the rocks at the side of the pool, but no drowning. (It was snow, by the way).

Note to self: the mud they put in the pots around the pool is for your skin. It does wonders for your skin, at least in the short term. It is not for eating. I repeat: NOT FOR EATING. Urgh, salty.

Several relaxing hours and a random chat with an Irish dude (who gave us tips for our planned trip to Ireland) later, we clambered back onto the bus and headed back to Reykjavik. Bags all packed, we sort of fell into bed, horribly aware that we had to be up again in about 3 hours. Urgh...

Iceland: "At least it's friendly snow"

On the Thursday, our third day in Iceland, we went on an epic trip. I say epic. I'm talking 8:30am pick up from the hotel, getting battered by ice-snow at the bus depot and only then setting off across the snowy winter wonderland that is Iceland in January on a 200km round trip to take in some of the most beautiful and awesome sights.

Yeah. Epic. A lot more epic in my head than in words.

Anyhoos. We first faced an hour and a half trip out to Geysir. Which is, as the name suggests, a geyser. The original geyser from which all others get their name. Of course, this being a bus outing, we couldn't just drive for an hour and a half. We had to stop somewhere. So we stopped at a farm. A tomato farm. In Iceland. In January. Where everything is covered in feet of snow.

This is surreal. I enjoy gardening and growing my own veggies, so it was pretty interesting - all these massive greenhouses full of tomatoes in the middle of bloody Icelandic winter. Even better, it's all geothermally heated and powered. The Icelanders are amazing.

Aaand, then we set off again. I feel I should mention that at this point I was beginning to feel like I'd fallen into an episode of Ice Road Truckers, what with the un-ploughed roads and bobbing along in a bus... and all the cars stuck in the very deep snow just off the edge of the tarmac... and the sticks to mark the edge of said tarmac which were in places only just protruding from the snow drifts... yeah. Ice Road Bussers.

Just realised bussers actually means something in North America. Oops. Whatever. Moving on.

Beautiful scenery started appearing at this point, it now being pretty much light. I think I've neglected to mention so far that Iceland being so far north means it doesn't get properly light in January until about 10 or 11 in the morning. Which meant that as we were leaving the surreal surrounding of the greenhouses, we actually managed to see the beauty of Iceland.

And it is beautiful. Not that I have any photos from this point. Scroll down for them if you're bored of my rambling.

Anyhoo. At last we reached Geysir. Only, there's a catch. Geysir doesn't really erupt any more. It's pipes (yes, geysers have pipes. Awesome geological ones) got all clogged up. Luckily for us, Geysir has a little brother called Strokkur. Strokkur does erupt. And it's anything but little. Observe.

Having enjoyed the amazing spectacle of an erupting geyser, we headed for the little cafe to grab a spot of lunch, passing more little geothermal wonders on the way. Oh the glory of bubbling pools of hot water in the middle of snow.

Anyway, lunch was had and then we headed off on another leg to the Gullfoss waterfall. Plenty of photos of this. Enjoy.

There is something very odd about such a huge waterfall being partially frozen. It's a good job we decided to head down to the falls first before checking out the little shop. See those nice pics up there? That lovely sun and the relatively clear sky? This is what happened about 2 minutes later.

It's that bloody storm! That bloody storm just keeps coming back to get me. Guh. We fled to the shop, Gemma grabbed a cuppa and I dripped all over the floor. By the time we got back on the bus to head to our final stop of the day, I'd almost dried off. That's how warm the shop was.

Final stop of the day was Thingvellir National Park. This is in the rift valley where the American and Eurasian tectonic plates meet and is thus awesome. It's also the place where Iceland's parliament, the Althing, first used to meet from 930AD. It's the oldest parliament in the world (save for a 45 year hiatus at the beginning of the 1800s). Basically, it's got amazing geology and amazing history, which is all good in my book. Also, look how pretty it is!

OK, I'll admit, walking up through that rift towards the visitor centre, I was just thinking how much it could have been something out of Lord of the Rings. All together now...

It was a lovely 20 minute walk up from the lower car park to the visitor centre and on the way up it decided to snow. For the first time since we arrived in Iceland it actually snowed nice, friendly snow. You know, the fluffy white flakes we get in the UK that stick to your clothes instead of stabbing you  in the face. Ahhh...

And then it was back on the bus and a leisurely drive back to Reykjavik. On the way we got the brilliant news that the Northern Lights tour, run by the same company, was going ahead. Finally! So when we got back to the hotel we grabbed a bite to eat at the bar - a lovely salmon burger - and then piled on the layers in expectation of the ridiculous cold of the Icelandic night.

The guide for our evening tour was called Sigurbergur. Or Sigi. It soon became apparent that he was a little bit unhinged - put on for the tourists, or actually slightly mad, I'm not sure. He began with this:

"Our driver is Ragnar. He's just got his licence back."

We giggled. On the drive back out to Thingvellir National Park in search of the Lights, he gave us some advice regarding trolls (don't look at them?), elves and ghosts (don't talk to them and don't make eye contact with severed heads). And he kept singing. Space Oddity came up at one point...

Anyhoos, we parked at the lower car park again and all piled off the bus, fluorescent wristbands attached (so Sigi could find us if we got lost in the dark). Warnings again about trolls and elves and ghosts and then we all stood around in the cold craning our necks to see if the Lights would come out. This is the photo I took.

Note the lack of Lights? Yeah. No Lights. 2 hours I think we waited? Something like that. And no Lights. Disappointing but not altogether unexpected. Sigi helpfully pointed out that the tickets we have are valid for a year and you can just keep going back until you see the Lights. We might have to take him up on that.