Trolls, Jules Verne, and an Arctic Fox

Day 15:

Today started off as the coldest day of our trip at -3°C at about 9 in the morning. Luckily, we had a way to drive before our first stop in Búðir, a small fishing town that was all but abandoned 200 years ago. The only remaining buildings are a recently rebuilt hotel and the reason for our stop: Búðakirkja, or the Black Church. One of our more iconic stops, the Black Church has a pretty eerie vibe to it. Perched on a rugged hill in a lava field overlooking the ocean, complete with old gravestones, the minimak Danish designed church is a stark contrast to its surroundings. The area was absolutely CRAWLING with millennial "photographers", who we of course mocked, but it was nonetheless a very fun spot to stretch our legs and get a nice view.

Next on the list was Lóndrangar, a pair of basalt pinnacles. A short walk down a hillside brought us to some pretty spectacular views of the towers, enhanced by the sound of waves crashing on the rocks below. Now these pillars may or may not be trolls turned to stone, but this one get VERY hazy on the relates mythology, so they'll be presented without specific order... 1. They may be a troll king and his lover staring deeply into each others eyes. So deeply, in fact, that they didn't notice the sunrise. Doesn't sound very legend-like, but hey! 2. The trolls in the area were way cooler to humans than in most of Iceland. When the Vikings landed in the area, a few walked by a troll sitting on the taller stone, but the troll neither said, nor did anything. Boring, but okay. 3. (Favorite) A famous folktale poet had a duel with the devil at Lóndrangar. The poet banished him to hell by rhyming something with the Norse/Icelandic version of the word orange... awesome. 4. This is elf territory. Farmers legitimately never have and never will (now due to National Park status), grew crops up to the edge of the cliffs because this area belonged to the elves and you don't mess with the elves. Back in the real word, lava cools in strange ways and the waves shape everything in their path, but that is was less colorful than the stories people come up with!

A whopping 2 minutes down the road, we went into the underworld in the Vatnshellir lava cave. Now this is a really nerdy one, from science to science fiction to mythology, hold on to those pocket protectors... Starting with the dry stuff, it is estimated that the cave was created 8,000 years ago after a volcanic eruption sent lava creeping down to the sea. The top of the lava flow, of course, cools first, creating a sort of crust. Still liquid, the inside drains out through paths of least resistance, leaving innumerable shafts between the newly-formed crust and the previous surface. So the lava field on Snæfellsnes is potentially riddled with tubes like the one we went through. This fact is particularly interesting, considering that Jules Verne revealed in The Journey to the Center of the Earth, that the entrance to the center of the earth was located somewhere in Snæfellsjökull, the glacier on the peninsula. We may have only gone 35 meters under the surface, but the possibilities are apparently endless! For mythology, back to the cool trolls of the area... Bárður Snæfellsás was a half troll-half man who protected the area. He and his troll buddies would get together in the circular upper portion of the cave to chat. Not the most exciting location for ol' Bárður, but walking in the steps of a troll is pretty neat ; )

Our next easy-to-pronounce destination was a double for some of our group and a triple for others! Djúpalónssandur, Nautastígur, and Dritvík round out the trio. First, Djúpalónssandur is entirely black volcanic pebbles, not broken down into the fine black sand of other beaches. Glad to be up on our tetanus shots, we checked out the rusted remains of a British fishing boat that was wrecked in the 1940s strewn about the beach. Another fun feature was an old test of the strength of fishermen, lifting stones. The sign stated that there were 4 stones, weighing 23, 54, 100, and 154kg, respectively. However, 5 stones were present so we're not exactly sure what happened there... tourists ruin everything. Either way, Jason knocked out the Amlóði (useless) and Hálfdrættingur (weakling) stones with ease, then moved on to Hálfsterkur (half strength) or an uninvited pretender, we will never know. Half strength achieved, he moved to either the real Hálfsterkur, a fake, or Fullsterkur... again, we will never know. The fourth stone was awkwardly lifted, but the jury is out on whether he'd be invited on the ship or be left on the beach... Stone number 5 looked to have been lifted there by Hafþór Júlíus Björnsson himself, so it sat untested. Nautastígur is a collection of rock formations leading down to Djúpalónssandur and included incredible views of both the glacier and the ocean. Being in the path was another otherworldly experience, plucked straight from a fantasy or science fiction movie. There have to be some stories around this place other than bulls being led to water and our friend Bárður bopping around, but it is proving hard to find! As one duo made their way back to the safety of the car, the other headed down to Dritvík, a 17th century fishing cove. The name comes from the steep drop of the sea floor from the beach, making it a prime place for protected fishing. One of the rocks protecting the cove is said to be the church of the elves and it is said that at times you can hear the elves singing! No hymns were heard, but the day was waning, so we made our way to our final stop.

Right before leaving the Snæfellsjökull National Park, we were lucky enough to see an arctic fox run across the street! The adorable little one still had his or her summer grey coat and was really moving, so no pictures could be taken in time. As the only land mammal on the island when the Vikings arrived, these are some hearty survivors! Anyway, Kirkjufell, or Church Mountain, is the most photographed mountain in Iceland, largely due to its appearance in Game of Thrones... Admittedly, it is pretty cool. What we were interested in was the waterfall across the street with the mountain as its namesake: Kirkjufellsfoss. While everyone was getting "the shot" of the waterfall in the foreground of the mountain (literally 25+ cameras set up for the same picture), we checked out the lower falls and enjoyed a little bit of privacy provided by the draw of the crowd to the top!

Grundarfjörður is our home for the night. It was a French-settled fishing village, still alive with a harbor full of boats, but nice and sleepy on a Sunday night. Tomorrow we make our way back to Reykjavik for our final night in Iceland. Bittersweet, as always, but we will be happy to be home!Read more