A scenic drive via Húsavik and the Tjörnes Peninsula leads to the Jökulsárgljúfur National Park where, in a rare sunny window, we fit in a two day walk along a 35 km stretch of the Jökulsá á Fjöllum river with its stunning canyon and waterfalls.
A detour to Akureyri had sorted out the alternator problem on the car. Thankfully we were able to get a new one on the spot so, sounding more like a V8 again rather than a bag of nails, we backtracked to Húsavik.
This started life as a fishing town but is now almost entirely devoted to whale watching tours. It is an attractive low level sort of place scattered around a busy harbour. A jolly red and white tin church sits on the hill above and there are enough gaily painted old houses around to make the place interesting.
The tall wooden masted traditional ships lent a picturesque air to the scene along with the distant snowcapped mountains and scattered light and cloud across the fjord. It actually reminded me of Ushuaia.
There are four different companies running whale watching tours at nearly hourly intervals so it is not hard to find a space on board a boat or a RIB depending on preference.
Sightings are virtually guaranteed. A combination of the Arctic and Atlantic currents, combined with the outlets of two rivers, create a nutrient rich environment in Skjálfandi Bay which attracts the whales.
We weren’t interested in the tours, we had seen plenty of whales in Antarctica, but enjoyed a wander in the town before making a bad mistake in ordering fish and chips from the eponymous cafe, which actually had a nice deck overlooking the harbour.
Aside from the fact that they were £35 for two, which is normal for Iceland, the battered fish was totally over salted which rather spoiled it.
TJÖRNES PENINSULA
Deciding that that would be our last attempt at fish & chips in Iceland, we drove north up the Tjörnes Peninsula, a route which we had enjoyed the day before with spectacular ocean views.
Exploring on side roads we found Tungulending, a beautifully sited guest house and cafe on a little bay, which was unfortunately closed. We made our own coffee instead and sat on their decking. It was a very peaceful spot with a view over little Lundy Island (puffins!) and endless silvery seas.
There was no access allowed to the nearby lighthouse, and shortly after we pulled in to camp at Mánárbakki 66.12° North (1,800 kr. including showers) which is a gorgeous campsite above a rough boulder beach. Two volcanic plugs could be seen offshore and the Kópasker peninsula on the eastern horizon.
Our friendly host had retired from farming. We commented on his neighbour’s hay making and were told he keeps 500 sheep in over the winter. They are bought down from the mountains in September and kept in until May. The ewes lamb a couple of weeks before they are let out then what isn’t needed for breeding is slaughtered in September. Apparently no vacines are used so it is a healthy meat.
We had noticed how many horses there were everywhere and he agreed that there were too many and said they damaged the ground. I get the feeling it is a bit like the Masai with their cows! At least he was doing his bit by happily eating them, although younger people tend not to.
We spent a pleasant evening overlooking the ocean: it was the sort of place where one could easily linger if the Icelandic weather ever allowed.
THE JÖKULSÁRHLAUP
The remaining stretch to Ásbyrgi led past a superb viewpoint on the headland above the campsite. Distant dolphins dipped in and out of the sea.
At Ásbyrgi we visited a very good information centre which gave an overview of the geology and flora of the area. A helpful ranger suggested the routes to follow on the Jökulsárhlaup – abseiling down a cliff later I cursed myself for listening to an active 20 year old’s advice!
This 34 km 2 day trek is an easy introduction to Icelandic hiking. It follows the Jökulsá á Fjöllum glacial river from the great waterfall at Dettifoss to Ásbyrgi. We had already encountered the river on our trip into the Highlands, so it was nice to see it again just before it entered the sea. The route is well marked and signposted so no particular maps are needed.
STAGE ONE
DETTIFOSS TO VESTURDALUR
The drive from Ásbyrgi to Dettifoss plunged us back into a stark volcanic landscape. However the canyon turned out to be quite spectacular and we had a wonderful 20 km walk north along it’s edges to our camp at Vesturdalur.
Dettifoss, at 45 m high and 100 m wide, is impressive for the sheer volume of water going over – some 400 hundred cubic metres per second which carries up to 23,000 tons of debris per day – hence the muddy appearance.
We actually had a sunny day for a change and rainbows danced in the spray. It is possible to get quite close but be prepared to get wet!
At the viewing platform our walk continued on and suddenly we had left all the tourists and selfies behind. We crossed a plateau into a dry valley where, on the ranger’s recommendation, we took the riverside path to Hafragilsfoss, rather than the easier route on top.
It was interesting. An initial steep descent using ropes decanted us near the river and we had a lovely walk downstream to the Hafragilsfoss Waterfall, in a wide part of the canyon with green fringed sides. It was another thundering one with vivid rainbows.
The next part of the track was very precarious, over a rock slide, and then on a narrow gravel path around an edge where one slip would have meant a long fall. Eventually we climbed out via a side canyon with a beautiful clear water stream. Where it met the river there was a distinct demarcation line.
Back on top of the canyon and on the main track, it all became a lot easier. The views were still stunning as we ambled along the stoney paths to Réttarfoss, yet another wild waterfall which we viewed from above.
The path changed from there in an area known as Hólmatungur, leading us through dense birch and willow vegetation beside a brilliantly clear rushing river. This ran into the canyon and we had easy walking for a while on a gravel bank, with one unexpected river crossing. Luckily it was a small one and relatively shallow but very icy on the feet.
A steep climb soon afterwards led us out on the canyon edges with a birds eye view of tortured landforms with volcanic columns going in every direction possible.
At Karl og Kerling – literally ‘old man’ and ‘old woman’, and supposedly two petrified trolls – there were two distinctive twin rock towers and soon after that our path swung us up to the campsite at Vesturdalur.
This proved to be in a pleasant flower bedecked meadow setting, with just loos and a washing up area (1,500 kr. each). With a ‘tents only’ rule it was just us and beautifully quiet.
DAY 2
VESTURDALUR TO ÁSBYRGI
This was supposed to be an easy 14 km day but it lengthened to nearly 20 km with a couple of worthwhile detours.
Simon took the car up to Ásbyrgi in the morning and cycled back, so we didn’t actually leave until 11 – on yet another sunny day.
We walked through the bizarre rock towers and lumps of Hljóðaklettar where there was a fantastic array of basalt columns, almost art works in their own right.
Kirkjan was a large cave amidst the jumble. From there the track wound up through various scenic overlooks until we finally ascended Rauðhólar whose 220 m summit has a distinctive red ash mantle.
Our feet scrunched on pumice as we headed down the other side and cut across to our original track. Shortly afterwards a dramatic canyon viewpoint provided a lunch spot.
The direct route led straight back to Ásbyrgi with a great view from the top of the horseshoe canyon at the end. However, we lingered longer along the canyon’s edge, high above the dirty rushing waters and walking through a wet moorland landscape with the occasional ptarmigan .
An arch in the cliff marked the point we finally turned for home, an endless 4 km yomp through dense stands of blueberry, heather and a myriad of small wild flowers.
Our final cliff face approach to Ásbyrgi was marked by a combination of metal ladders and swinging ropes – I was glad to see the campsite (1,500 kr. including showers) which is strikingly located under one of the great walls of Eyjan.
ÁSBYRGI
Ásbyrgi canyon is impressive, a vast horseshoe 3.5 km long and about a kilometre wide with soaring cliffs. Added to which it has the imposing rocky lump of Eyjan planted right in the middle of it, it’s tall prow facing the end like a stranded boat.
We started the day by climbing this. Luckily it slopes down gently to the northern end so was actually a very accessible 4.5 km return walk. The sheer drop at the end was quite breathtaking and the view allowed one to really appreciate the canyon, which was apparently created by glacial flooding, although if you prefer mythology, it is a hoof print left by Odin’s horse.
At the end of the canyon there is a short walk through a low forest to Botnstjörn , an enchanted pool at the base of the cliffs. It is a luminous emerald green and the height of the cliffs make it all appear quite ethereal. Only ducks disturb the quiet, and the nesting fulmers on the walls. The sun hits the walls later in the afternoon.
THE EASTERN ROAD
Sadly it was time to go and we took the eastern gravel road south along the canyon which had two fabulous viewpoints, the first over Hafragilsfoss waterfall and the second over Dettifoss, after a short downhill walk.
Another 1.4 km walk on from the Dettifoss viewpoint, along a somewhat rocky track, one finds Selfoss waterfall. I don’t think a lot of people bother with the detour but it is well worth it and there is a much better view from the eastern side.
The enormous amount of water curls around from the head of the falls to one side, creating a myriad of cascades. Although it is not that high, it is very beautiful, the high canyon sides lined with great columns. These do not look at all secure and if you step too close to the edges, it is possible to see fissures in places.
We continued south towards Mývatn but a word of caution: from the Dettifoss lookout south to Highway 1 was very slow due to the most awful corrugations on the gravel road. It would actually be better to backtrack to Ásbyrgi and go down the western side on good bitumen.
As it was, we gave up after 20 km of agonising driving and pulled into Grimsstaðir to camp. An isolated farm on a lonely moorland, hemmed in by distant hills, the name made me think of Grimspound: I would not have been surprised if the hound had put in an appearance. For 1,500 kr we got an eerily quiet grassy campsite with loo and hot water sink but no shower.
However, it was damp and cold and we were glad to put up the tent and crash. It is funny in Iceland how late people often turn up at a campsite. Maybe it is the unexpectedly bad roads of the interior which catch them out. Motorcyclists seem particularly at risk: somewhere around 1 am we heard several chug in out of the silence.
