Snaefellsnesjokull (achoo!)

A quick trip in the Grand Vitarra took us from Latrabjarg to the ferry terminal, where we boarded for our trip to the Snaefellsnes Peninsula, the central of the three major peninsulas in western Iceland. Lewis was hungry enough to try the “Captain’s sandwich,” a mistake, but not as bad as the soupy potatoes of the night before.  Having been on the move nearly non-stop, Lewis promptly fell asleep on his chin, as Brad enjoyed the view from the deck of the  ferry.  Arriving after a three hour crossing, we found ourselves in Stykkisholmur, a lovely seaside town where even the food in the gas station seemed to outshine the cuisine of Latrabjarg.  Pressing on, we reached the Hotel Framnes in Grundarfjordur, dropped our bags, and headed out once again. 

This time, our destination was Snaefellsness National Park, and the highest glacier in Iceland—the Snaefellsnesjokull.  The jokull is believed by some to be one of the seven major psychic energy centers on earth, situated on a straight line from the pyramids of Giza to the North Pole.  We were in need of some energy ourselves, but not feeling the psychic kind, we resorted to more coffee in the small fishing town of Raz, then continued on to the park.  The terrain turned from scrub to volcanic, something like the Big Island of Hawaii without the palm trees or the shaved ice and umbrella drinks.  Heading to the farthest point west, we hiked over volcanic rock, hung over the cliff and searched for birds.  We were not disappointed.  Although fewer in number than Latrabjarg, we again saw thousands of seabirds perched on the craggy cliffs and “hay” stacks (rock spires) rising out of the water.

	Orange lighthouses in Iceland. Not just for style—they’re easier to see. (Click to see larger images.)
	Brad participates in modern art unknowingly.
	Dramatic eroded opening in the face of the bird cliff.
	Gull affectionately tending its babies. This is where baby gulls come from. And they care for their own.
	Brad by sign for falki—or falcon. We saw no falcons but we did see the very elusive Arctic Fox in his summer coat!
	Lewis weighed down by camera equipment.

By now, it was 8:30 pm and still broad daylight, but we were hoping for a good meal. We found one at the Fimm Fiskar (Five Fish) in Stykkisholmur. Compared to anything else we had eaten in Iceland, it was a Michelin 4 star, and we wolfed down fish soup and pan sautéed fish. After dinner, and although it was now nearing midnight, we walked around the harbour so that Lewis could inspect the boats (Pass!), and then headed back to the Frammnes and bed.

Stykkisholmur boats

The lighthouses are indeed orange