Reykjanesskagi, Grindavík og Nina

Reykjanes, Grindavík og Nina

It was a late in the afternoon and late in the planning of and I took the car on a small trip into the Reykjanesskagi peninsula that's west of Reykjavík city for some 50 km to Keflavík and since the peninsula is covered in vast desolate lava flows which is incidentally all I saw driving east to Reykjavík from the airport when I arrived the day before and quite naturally found myself a bit hesitant about what planet I'd just landed on but let's fast forward to when I took this trip from Reykjavík through to the South coast as an unplanned day trip and starting at about 18:00 without a care to the time and with a care to the time as I'd have five hours more daylight and two of dusk and I'd take advantage of that because I'd be on what we think of as a day trip which is normally planned out to end at about supper time while this one was supper time first and then starting off on a day trip and that's only possible when you're several degrees latitude below the Arctic circle in summer.

On the approach to a ridge to cross over and into a basin to find the main sites, it was obvious that I'd not be seeing much, because ahead the ridge had a wave of fog rolling over it and down the side.  The basin there was filled with fog and overflowing.  What cannot be properly captured by the photos is the fog flowing off like a waterfall, rolling off like a wave and crashing down at the bottom into a massive swirling of cloud.  It was a really cool atmosphere. What I could capture was my first close up at lava flow covered in thick green moss.

I'm very hazy about what happened the the rest of the evening, as once over the ridge and into the basin, I found it completely filled with fog.  So the several sites to appreciate as volcanic spectaculars, Seltun's sulfurous bubbling mud, the Krýsuvík geothermal area with the same, the strange green blue Grænavatn explosion crater lake, the Kleifarvatn lake that fills the basin but after an earthquake, it slowly drained, nearly a quarter of the water simply vanisht into open fissures (I couldn't tell, as it's since recovered, anyway I couldn't see it, to confirm that).  This all but vaguely seen from the road.  Somewhat a let-down for this geology student, now in the middle of the "big picture", inside the great fissure zone of the mid-Atlantic ridge, where the action is, the great ripping apart of the island, but at the same time the island growing infinitesimally wider every year.  70km in the last 10,000 years.  That's practically warp speed.

Of everything to miss, this was the very disappointing: the Miðlína Bridge, or Leif the Lucky (Leifur Eíriksson) Bridge across the two continents, spanning the North American and Eurasian plates.  I never found it except online.  Sigh.  (It turned out to be quite a distance west of Grindavík, and I didn't go exploring any further west after having supper there.)

Out of the fog and on my driving on the coast highway west to Grindavík for second supper, I saw a curious clover leaf sign for "Selatangur" pointing seaward, and it lookt like an interesting diversion.   It was a one-lane gravel road winding its way through the lava flows and though free of but one or two potholes, so it was in good condition I thought, I also thought when I was far too far down this road that 1 it was a road I probably shouldn't be driving this rental car on and 2 if another car should come my way there'd be no way for me to turn back, the road was too narrow and presst on both sides by the rock.  It would be an long drive back in reverse.  However, without any problems whatever, I found myself at the end of the 1.5 km road and there's parking for the beaches at Nótahellir and Selatangur.  I didn't understand a word of what the tourist board was trying to explain, but I did gather that people used to live here, and that just stretcht the imagination too far.  I've never found myself recently in a more forbidding and hostile place to be.  The only reason I would come here would be to hike along and over the lava flow that crasht like a wave right into the sea and the sea crashing waves right back at it.  Maybe take exceptional photographs if I was capable of it.  Collect some seaman's gear flotsam or whatever on the beach.  But live here?

Further west, I arrived in Grindavík and the Bryggjan Café (The Pier Kaffi), a bit past the time kitchen had closed or after everything on that day's menu had already been eaten, and only humarsúpa (or langoustine soup) and bread and butter was available, which was quite alright with me.  Serve yourself from the electric hot pot.   Bottomless cup of coffee from the thermos.

The place was full of the gear and tackle found on any fishing vessel, it covered the walls and hung from the ceiling. (Look at the online photographs.)  

I wanted that map of Iceland.  

I hoped that piece of woven fishing boat rope was 
something she'd recognize, but it's still a mystery.

She welcomed me to stay for the evening's local band playing, scheduled in an hour and a half.  I debated about that, it getting late, but I was glad I did stay.   The band came and set up, and the small café filled up completely with locals and the band, a pianist slash singer, drummer and guitarist slash bassist slash lead singer slash emcee took over and they were very good together, but better, they were very funny together and workt the crowd with all that fun.  

Requests were askt for and that flusht out the tourists. Austrian, Swiss, French. The Frenchman's request was refused on principle.  (My krónur on his being French, not the song requested....)   English/American or Icelandic music both were requested and everybody sang along for the most part, as they were all old standards. One Icelandic song was particular popular, a Eurovision song (I had vaguely heard of the contest) and entire crowd, save us tourists, belted the song out as a national anthem but really it's a love long. Tears flowing on the women there. (This is a sexist exaggeration, the tears were only on the men.)  I only got the name of the woman this love song was being sung to, some woman named Nina (and with only the words "Eurovision" and "Nina" it wasn't hard to find this YouTube version).  

This was just outside the window at my table, and where I realized that I'd never get Icelandic pronunciation down.  I knew each letter but stringing them together and with all the orthography rules on top of that, I'd just never get there.  Translating this, a piece of cake though.  Good morning, Grindvíkings!  Good is the weather, smooth seas. 

Bugging me was in the back of my mind find what song I could request, what was it? and I knew from already listening to the band, that if they knew it they played it very well and we sang it better, and if they didn't, they played it better still and we just laught. I swear, their playing a song they didn't know but the melody of was hilarious.  This was supposed to be a fun evening, já!?  

What was your song?  What was it Benjamin?  What was your song to request?  Sigh.  It wasn't until much much later, Benjamin, that you realized what your song was.  Glad you remembered it before you left Iceland...