Continuing on the Ring Road, we find the scenery beyond Vík as stunning as elsewhere. It is a wild world of glaciers and icebergs with Diamond Beach one of the highlights of the trip.
Surprise, surprise! More lava fields as we drove east from Vík, although these are old enough to have a thick coat of moss softening their contours.
A stop at the Eldhraun pull in allowed for a wander amongst the moss heath lava. If the weather has been sufficiently wet, the moss is a vivid green. Less moisture and it is a rather more subdued shade.
Fjaðrárgljúfur Canyon, carved out by the river Fjaðrá is another Justin Bieber spot. The canyon is deep, long and mossy but also possesses an outcrop which being centrally located gives a superb view down the canyon, which is where Mr. B. planted himself.
The area is now fenced off and a track leads 1 km to an overlook for Mögárfoss waterfall which falls prettily down the mountain side, where another stream joins it in a deep pool.
Shortly afterwards we arrived in Kirkjubaejarklauster which is a pleasant little spot with an imposing backdrop of high mountains. Although there isn’t much to the town, there are some nice walks in the area, such as the easy 2½ km walk from the Systrafoss waterfall, past the hidden lake of Systravatn and over the hills to Kirkjugólf.
Kirkjugólf is a curious pavement of basalt columns, so flat and contiguous that they look as if they were the floor of an old church.
Our campsite for the night lay just beyond this in a lovely location near the high cliffs. It was simple with just toilets, a washing-up area and picnic tables but for 750 kr it was a bargain. Walk in tents had a grassy spot to themselves with a great view of the lovely Stjórnarfiss, a waterfall with a criss cross action.
We drove on towards Skaftafell the following day, getting very side tracked by Núpsstaður, an old abandoned farm. We parked by the road and walked up a long drive to reach the farm which nestles under some impressively dramatic high peaks.
Whilst obviously once a hive of activity, now only an old tin house remains habitable; the adjacent barns and workshops have fallen into complete neglect.
However it was fascinating, as if someone has just closed all the doors and walked away. The first shed we came to had a very rusty Willy’s jeep inside, the next an assortment of tools ranging from a clipping machine to a wooden sleigh.
Nearer the house, there were sheep barns, a blacksmith area with a large bellows and lots of old saddles and bridles, followed by a barn of general stuff and a generator.
Best of all was the bijoux black church which was actually open for once so that we were able to see the warm wood panelling and small altar.
After a pleasant hour or so ambling around the farm, we carried on to Skaftafell National Park, stopping for lunch en route at a viewpoint over a glacier tongue. It was a bleak stony area of river moraine.
Vatnajökull glacier dominates the skyline of south eastern Iceland. Only Greenland and Antarctica have larger ones: it extends over 8,805 km² (which covers 8% of Iceland) and has an average thickness of 400 m.
It contains Hvannadalshnjúkur, the highest peak in Iceland which is found within the Oraefajökull glacier at 2,109 m, one of Vatnajökull’s 7 active glaciers and numerous glacial tongues.
When we checked in for camping at the Skaftafell National Park they warned us that there was a storm coming and that the campsite was liable to flooding. Luckily we found a sheltered belt of trees with a wooden platform for the tent which did actually provide sufficient protection from the torrential wind and rain that was to follow that night.
On our arrival we wandered down to the dirty face of Skaftafellsjökull Glacier, one of the tongues of the Vatnajökull glacier and an easy stroll from the park office.
The next day continued wet after our stormy night, but we fitted in a great walk to the Swartifoss waterfall, reached in 1.9 km of gentle uphill walking. The approach path winds through low birch trees, which are always a pleasure to see in a rather treeless Iceland.
It is surrounded by basalt columns which create a black amphitheatre, framing its cascade as it drops into a pool edged by broken fragments. Further down, large sections lay fallen like a ransacked temple.
To complete the walk, we cut over to Sjónarnípa from where there is a superb view over Skaftafellsjökull.
Jökulsárlón
Between Skaftafell and Jökulsárlón there are numerous glacier snouts, the first being Svinafellsjökull which is popular for glacial walks despite a rather black nose. A glacial waterfall is high on its right side.
Kviárjökull has some of the remains of the Clyne Castle, a Grimsby trawler which ran aground in 1919. 2 local men spent 4 years trying to refloat it but had to give up. The remnants of its bow can be seen in the distance towards the sea but it’s winch is in the Kviárjökull car park.
There is a pleasant wander up the valley which in an easy 20 minutes leads to the glacial lagoon and a few floating ice bergs
Fjallsárlón has an easily accessible viewpoint over its glacier and a cafe with soup or a salad plate around the 2000 kr mark.
The Breiðármörk Trail leaves from here and travels 15 km to Jökulsárlón. It is worth following it a short way to the corner of the lake where the icebergs collect. They are a myriad of shapes and sizes, many in a startling blue.
It was turning into a day of rainbows, saturating squalls and sunny glimpses, with luckily sufficient of the latter to enjoy the icy delights as our next stop was Jökulsárlón. This is famous for its easily accessible glacial lagoon which lies at the tongue of the Breiðamerkurljökull glacier, an offshoot of Vatnajökull. Whilst it is relatively narrow, the lagoon reaches 250 m in depth, the deepest in Iceland.
We struggled out of the car in a howling gale, which at least had the advantage of blowing the squalls through quite quickly, and wandered around the lagoon edge.
Immediately we were confronted by the wide face of the glacier in front of which lies the lagoon. Enormous icebergs were scattered in the lake, although the wind had blown many towards the outflow, which happens to be Iceland’s shortest river.
There they waited their turn for release towards the open seas of the Atlantic Ocean – we had great fun standing on the banks of the river watching the breakaways swept along in the fast flowing current.
Nearby, harbour seals cavorted in the water: the mixture of sea and fresh water provides a fertile feeding ground for them.
Crossing the road bridge (free parking on the western side of it!) we veered off to Diamond Beach which immediately went into my Top 10 Iceland list.
Here the icebergs which have reached the sea are tossed back onto the shore. Whilst some were still tumbling in the waves, others glistened on the black sands in magical colours from the classic iceberg blue to clear crystals. Some had spikey edges, others displayed black stripes from volcanic ash. It was a photographer’s paradise and one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen.
It was hard to tear ourselves away! The mountains as we drove on the 80 km towards Hofn were beautiful with high, jagged outlines in green and black livery.
There is little in the way of camping options before it, although we did miss one which I only discovered later, at Haukafell, which would usefully fill in the dead spot between Skaftafell and Höfn. It is near a glacier tongue in a leafy setting and there are walks in the area.
However we noticed a new campsite about 10 km before Hofn with a lovely view over the mountains. The showers were hot and later that night we were lucky enough to get our first glimpse of the northern lights – only a faint lumescent green flickering across the night sky but our first sighting of them in Iceland – winter really was approaching at last.
