The story of how a one-time house painter attempted to become an “artist” never entered my head until an observant neighbor sent me a thought-provoking email, one that prompts me to tell you this story.
It started earlier this month when I posted a photo of the Christmas lights decorating my balcony. I realized that one could look beyond the balcony and see into my apartment through the double set of sliding doors and check out parts of my living room/dining room, but I thought nothing would come of that. Click here for that view.
Did you notice the multicolored painting with bands of different colors? Well, Michael, who lives nearby in this apartment complex did. He emailed me after seeing the post, saying: “Through your glass doors, I see a “Frank Stella”. Poster, print or canvas? It is a classic Stella image and beautiful.” Did you notice the authority in Michael’s words? I did. He obviously knew plenty about Frank Stella, and likely art in general.
The work Michael saw on my wall was indeed a Stella image, one I had painted after seeing it on the cover of a medical journal. Mine wasn’t a hopeless project. I had worked with a professional painting crew during my early college days, painting new houses and learning a bit about mixing colors. I also had a steady enough hand to draw straight lines, and this work of Stella’s (Sacramento Mall Proposal #4) has more straight lines than I care to count.
Stella’s version is big, stretching over 8 1/2 feet on each side, and much bigger than anything I wanted to hang on my wall, so I settled for a canvas about half that size, roughly a 4 foot square. I gave the entire canvas a coat of white paint and then sketched the pattern in pencil so both the major and minor bands of color would become miniature version of Stella’s.
Using acrylic paints, I mixed the colors one by one and painted the thicker bands free hand, starting with the red square in the center, and then moving progressively outward with each different color up to the final brown. Next, I added the thinner bands onto the white background, each band getting darker as I moved outward. I used a small brush this part and was very careful to keep the edges as straight as possible.
The result? It was a colossal disaster! My effort looked terrible. it looked blah, it looked nothing like Stella’s, even though my colors matched his reasonably well. The problem slowly came into focus. I finally recognized that my blunder was my white lines. They were too thin, barely visible and not bold enough to separate the different colors, not able to add any sparkle to the painting.
The solution was obvious, and it made me sick. Every one of the white lines needed to be widened. And there were so, so many. I thought of the time that would take for me to painstakingly widen each line with my tiny brush. I wondered whether it would be worth the effort, whether I should just toss the piece into the trash.
Then common sense arrived. Why not use tape to define the limits of each white line? I bought a roll of masking tape, masked one complete side of the painting at a time, slapped white paint between rows of masking tape, and in about an hour I finished the whole thing.
To come back to Michael, I’ve known that he is a financial advisor who has a post-graduate degree in economics, an occupation I couldn’t connect with his obvious knowledge of Frank Stella, and presumably other art as well. I was truly puzzled. So I emailed him with questions. Had he studied art formally? Did he also paint?
It pays to ask questions. Yes, Michael has a broad knowledge of art. Many years ago, he told me, he had owned an art gallery. He had bought and sold art in Switzerland and Germany. And yes, he also does what he called “some amateur painting.” He sent photos of some of his interesting work. Another benefit of blogging, I thought, learning more about other people.
To wrap this up this story of a one-time house painter, I’ll add that mimicking Stella wasn’t my first attempt at being a copy cat. Years before I had seen a reproduction of a composition by Alberto Magnelli that I liked, so I painted my version of that one in oil.
And I even did one more about a dozen years ago, this one being a copy of The Sun by Edvard Munch, a huge mural in Oslo University’s assembly hall. This one has more curlicues and other wrinkles than the others.
That’s all for today, the story of a one-time house painter’s artistic attempts as he tried his best to put matching colors on canvas. Too bad I didn’t know there were websites designed for guys just like me. See here.
Have a Happy New Year! See you in 2023. Stay tuned.
Merry Christmas, Dear Readers! I will keep this short, because I am scurrying around, trying accomplish enough today and tomorrow so that I will be able to relax and enjoy this Christmas weekend with friends and family. We in the Kansas City area had a couple of inches of snow last night, and my cell phone tells me it is -2 degrees Fahrenheit (about 40 degrees below normal) as I type this in mid-afternoon. Looks like we’ll have a White Christmas! Have you seen the movie with that name? I have, at least three times. I see it’s available on Amazon (see here).
The apartment complex where I live had been undergoing repainting until this cold spell, and because of this few residents have put up outdoor Christmas lighting, but I bucked the trend and put a little color on my balcony. A couple of nights ago I went on the other side of the canal that flows past my place and took a photo, just to show that I and my downstairs neighbors are in the spirit.
My neighbor’s brightly lit Christmas tree reminds me that when I was very young, in the mid 1930s, my Schafer grandparents would decorate their fir tree with strands of tinsel, something rarely seen today. They also added a few ornaments, but the most striking addition to the tree was a collection of a dozen small candles, each about twice the size of an ordinary birthday candle.
Each candle was nestled in a decorative holder equipped with a clamp designed for attaching it to a branch. As you can imagine, those candles were placed with extreme care, because Christmas trees ignite easily, and they burn with intense heat. Predictably, the candles were lit only briefly, for only a few minutes each night, and when we sang carols and opened gifts on Christmas Eve. The candles’ flickering flames were spellbinding. For a small boy, those moments were magical.
I doubt that I’ll see you again before the new year arrives, so Happy New Year to all. I look forward to seeing you in January. The world is going through bad times, enough to make me occasionally grumpy. If this keeps up, I’ll probably have some gripes after we ease into 2023. I may even get back to politics. You may remember I graciously gave President Trump a grade of D- (see here). President Biden should be so lucky! Stay tuned.
I remember the attack on Pearl Harbor. I lived in Timber Lake, SD, a small town west of the Missouri River. It was Sunday, December 7, 1941, I was nine years old.
So what? most of you might say. Why, I weren’t even born then! If so, I suggest you belong in what psychologists define as an “out-group.” If you’re not familiar with the word, imagine this. Suppose you learn of a massacre of 30 children in the Ukraine. How would you feel?
Next assume you just have been informed that 30 children have been murdered in a school one block from your home? How would you feel? In the Ukraine case you would be part of an out-group because you have no direct link to the event. In the local case, you might even know some of the children. So you would be part of the in-group. Would your emotions be different in the two situations?
In-groups and out-groups can be defined in many ways: having the same ethnicity, the same religion, the same location, or even, according to me, living in the same time frame.
I was railroaded into this train of thought this morning when I looked at my kitchen Word of the Day Calendar and discovered that it didn’t even mention that today is Pearl Harbor Remembrance Day. Shocking, I thought. (I felt better when I saw that my At-A-Glance desk calendar proudly mentioned that fact in CAPITAL LETTERS (and it even added the tidbit that we have a full moon today).
Anyway, as a member of the in-group who was alive during the attack on Pearl Harbor, here’s the briefest summary of that day. The attack by three types of Japanese airplanes (torpedo planes, bombers and fighters) began early on Sunday morning. The destruction was massive See here.
We had no television (no one did at that time), but the news came over our radio on its shelf in the living room. We heard anxious voices at the scene being interrupted by explosions and the rat-tat-tat of machine gun fire. We quickly learned of heavy losses that included the battleships USS Arizona and USS Oklahoma that sank to ocean’s bottom. Six other battleships were damaged, along with cruisers, destroyers, and other vessels.
More than 2,300 Americans were killed during the battle and another 1,100 wounded. This, of course, was the event that propelled us into World War II. On the next day, December 8, it was an unusually warm day in Timber Lake, and I was standing outside the open front door of our little home on Timber Lake’s Main Street, listening to our radio through the screen door when President Roosevelt came on the air and gave his Day of Infamy speech. I can still hear his voice, probably because I’ve heard it numerous times since then in recordings made at the time. His opening sentence was:
“Yesterday, December 7, 1941—a date which will live in infamy—the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by the naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan.” Even I, at nine years old, recognized the significance of his words. So I say, again, “Remember Pearl Harbor!”
Tensions had been rising between Japan and the United States for some time before the attack on Pearl Harbor. Tensions possibly similar to the world today as dictators are rattling their warhead and shooting them into the oceans. Meanwhile, the Russian attack on Ukraine smolders on. You may have heard that Ukrainian drones recently attacked air bases within Russia. The war seems to be getting hotter. And this is up-to-date: Vladimir Putin just said, minutes ago, just as I was about to hit “publish” on this post, that nuclear risk is rising, a possibility I have considered here before (See here).
Thought for the day: Let us hope that another day of infamy is not around the corner.
Did you happen to see the NPR story today about Iceland touting itself as a better destination than Mars or the Moon? After all, Iceland has otherworldly sights like red rocks, black sand, and sub-glacial volcanoes, not to mention such goodies as oxygen, and plenty of water. If you haven’t seen the story, you can find it here, along with photos and a very funny little video called Mission: Iceland. Don’t miss it!
I was particularly interested because, as many of you know, my last seven posts on this site combine into essentially a travelogue on Iceland. I describe much of the country and recount some of the interesting adventures my daughter, Anne, and I had while visiting that island nation in August. If you’ve missed any, they all are still available. You can find the first of the series by clicking here.
Briefly, the NPR story reveals that Iceland’s tourist board claims that their country offers more amenities than space, and at a fraction of the cost. Another advantage of Iceland? No space suit is required. Not only that but their geothermal pools are luxurious, as our time in the Blue Lagoon proved to me. Maybe Iceland does beat Mars and the Moon.
Enjoying the soothing Blue Lagoon
Even NASA likes the place. It often has used Iceland as a representative of the moon’s terrain for training purposes, and it is still doing so as it prepares astronauts for other missions.
Here’s a quote from NPR’s story: Iceland is an amazing analog for both the Moon and Mars,” says NASA’s Kelsey Young, who researches the exploration of planetary surfaces and who has done geologic fieldwork in Iceland.
As some of you have noticed, I’ve been silent here for over a month, longer than I would have liked. Why the silence? Well, I’ve been doing a bit of traveling, and I’ve also occupied myself with other jobs. I’ve spent time researching for a fairly extensive article I’m writing with the intent to submit it to a major newspaper. I’m also involved in another project that has taken more time than it should have. End of excuses. I hope to see you back here soon. Please stay tuned.
For our final days of exploring Iceland, the Island of Fire and Ice, we investigated Reykjavik, the capital city. Nearly 70% of Iceland’s citizens live in the Greater Reykjavik’s region. (Roughly 235,000 reside around Reykjavik whereas the entire Island is home to about 345,000 residents.
We had settled into the same hotel we had on our first day in Iceland, The Foss Hotel Reykjavik. I’ve mentioned a couple of times (for example here, and here) how fantastic Iceland’s hotel breakfasts are. Here’s an example. When we made our morning entrance into the Foss Hotel dining room, we usually began by selecting from a variety of fresh juices and coffee choices and taking our filled cups and glasses to a table waiting with folded napkins and flatware. Having established our beachhead, we made our initial foray to the lengthy line bulging with appetizing items.
The hot portion of the line offered bacon, eggs, sausages, hash browns and other potatoes, meat balls, baked beans, miso soup, pancakes, and more. Another section featured a broad selection of cold meats, cheeses, sauces and salsas. There was a selection of flavorful breads ranging from Icelandic black breads to rye and flatbreads. Toasters stood at the ready, as did a selection of butters and a generous mix of delicious jams.
If you have a yen for cereal, hot or cold, you couldn’t find a better place. The choices covered the gamut for discerning taste buds. After that, of course, were yogurts, skyr, milks, and creams, along with a cornucopia of toppings, twenty or more as I recall, each neatly stored in shiny stainless steel containers and including all of the common nuts, not to mention other options such as chia seeds and goji berries. In short, here was a cereal lover’s nirvana.
Last, but definitely not least, were the pastries. These tasty teasers usually were too much for us to consume while on the premises, but we couldn’t pass them up. Wrapped in paper napkins, they made a fine snack with coffee later in the day.
“Flying” over Iceland
Reykjavik shines with attractions. On Friday we rambled a good distance, walking along the shore and making our way to an immensely popular feature called FlyOver Iceland. Once inside that building, we buckled ourselves into seats before beginning our breath-stopping ride, our seats responding as to gravity while we skimmed virtually over Iceland’s wonders. You can experience an exhilarating sample of our experience by clicking HERE. (Do not pass up this opportunity! You will love the dynamic views of Iceland’s stunning topography. I suggest you right click on the link and open it in a new tab, ideally on a PC.)
We naturally sampled some of Iceland’s most popular provender. After “flying” over Iceland, we stopped for lunch at Reykjavik’s oldest hot dog stand, called Bæjarins Beztu Pylsur (English translation: “The best hotdog in town”). We had walked past the stand several times, and each time there had been a long line of folks waiting patiently to order from that little stand that has been in business since 1937! Anne took her place in line shortly after 1:30 p.m. while I settled onto a nearby bench to observe her progress. Some 20 minutes later she returned with our lunch, and a smile.
Waiting for our Reykjavik hotdogs. Anne is fourth from the left side in this photo
We learned these hotdogs are made from lamb as well as pork and beef. Toppings include crispy onions, raw onions, ketchup, mustard, and remoulade. Anne had ordered mine with everything, and hers with all but raw onions. The hotdogs, we discovered, were surprisingly delectable.
A tasty lunch of hotdogs and Coca Cola, a highly popular drink in Iceland
Well fortified by our satisfying lunch, we nosed around the city center, slipping down to the harbor and marching up, down, and across much of the city center. As the afternoon faded, we headed back to the Foss Hotel. Anne proudly noticed she had accumulated over 15,000 steps that day (as I think she had on other days as well). That meant we had put 7 miles or more on our shoe leather that day. Actually, it wasn’t unusual for us. We hiked hours every day.
We popped into the Hotel’s Beer Garden for our evening meal, sharing an order of fish and chips and splitting a burger. Although the bar serves an astronomical number of brews from around the world, we settled for local tasty brews. After dinner we began packing our suitcases for tomorrow evening’s flight home.
Toasting our last dinner in Iceland at the Foss Hotel Beer Garden
Saturday
After lingering over the final morning meal of our trip, Anne and I ran our eyes over the hotel’s dining room for a final time, storing memories of Iceland’s fantastic breakfasts. Next, we finished our packing, checked out, and left our luggage with the porter. We had more to see and do. Our first stop was the Hallgrimskirkja Lutheran Church, which sits atop a long, sloping hill about 3/4 a mile from the Foss Hotel. With our eager stamina, we made the climb in less than Google’s estimated 15 minutes.
The church is beautiful, as the above collage shows. Notice the openings high above. Identical sets are on all four sides of the edifice. We took an elevator up to near the top and climbed the remaining stairs to the bell tower where we admired the city in all four directions. I took the featured image of this post that looks to the northeast from the tower, toward the Foss Hotel Reykjavik. Inside, the organ pipes are big, much larger than they appear in the photo above. And finally, did you notice the shadows of Anne and me? The sun was SHINING, a rarity during our trip (but we have no complaints).
After our leisurely visit to the church and its surroundings, we ambled down the hill, zigzaging from street to street to take stock of more of the town and making our way to the harbor where, we had been told, a super gustatory experience could be had at Saegrefinn (“The Sea Baron”), Gourmets near and far claim that restaurant makes the best lobster soup ever, and it comes, along with bread and butter, at a reasonable price in expensive Iceland. We, as people usually must do, waited the better part of an hour to be seated. The verdict? The lobster soup is truly tasty, but I think I’ve had lobster bisque equally good.
Patiently waiting at the Sea Baron restaurant for world-renowned lobster soup
After enjoying that renowned soup, we walked briskly back to the Foss Hotel to collect our luggage and wait for our driver to return us to the airport. While waiting, we watched the lobby’s TV stream a live view of the nearby volcano (just 20 miles away) as it continued its recent eruption, spurting out bursts of fiery lava that oozed bright red onto its slopes.
Our driver, the same friendly woman who had brought us into town, came a bit early and efficiently deposited us at Keflavik International Airport. We took off on time for our evening flight to Chicago, officially ending our delightful eight days in Iceland, the island of fire and ice. We flew over Greenland and, being far north, that land mass was still bathed in sunlight as we passed overhead. I’ll end this series with a collage I put together for us to ponder. Any thoughts?
Anne took the left photo as we flew over Greenland on our way to Chicago. I took the one on the right when we had rolled along Iceland’s Highway 1 in our Land Rover. Both shots were taken in August, 2022. As Shakespeare famously said, “What’s in a name?”
Next time, I’ll tangle with another topic. Thanks for stopping by. And stay tuned.
I realize I’m cracking eggs too often, but memory compels me to report another superb buffet breakfast awaited us as we began our 6th day of exploring Iceland, the Island of fire and ice. Breakfasts in Iceland’s hotels were top notch, highlighted by endless choices of morning favorites, cheery talk, melodic chinking of silverware, and the constant traffic to gather seconds, and to sample other items.
After soaking up the atmosphere in the Geysir Hotel’s dining room, not to mention gratifying our taste buds, we wrapped up a couple of goodies (tasty Danish pastries) and tucked them away for a later snack. Our main target for the day was the Blue Lagoon. Anne had reserved the Premium Package for us there in early afternoon, so we didn’t need to rush away from Geysir.
Our drive, according to Google Maps, would take only about an easy hour and half. We noticed we would drive through Reykjavik on the way, and then reverse ourselves and come back to Iceland’s capital city for our two final days on the island.
So, having plenty of time, we delayed our checkout from the hotel and walked the few paces to the Geysir Center, a large modern building adjacent to the hotel. We discovered a gorgeous mall featuring Icelandic brands, a restaurant, an ice cream shop, and a fast-food soup outlet. I’ve mentioned before how Iceland’s shops in their tourist areas are kept neat as a pin (see here). Below is a photo depicting a portion of the Geysir Center. Neat? Or not?
Below I’ve spliced together the two ends of the building to show the cafeteria at the other end.
It was after mid-morning when we finally loaded our luggage into our Land Cruiser and aimed for the Blue Lagoon. The air was uncharacteristically dry along the way, the visibility sharp and clear, fine conditions to study the varied terrain of Iceland as it glided by.
The Blue Lagoon has an interesting history, albeit a fairly recent one. It was formed in the 1970s when water and steam discharged from the newly built geothermal plant next door refused to seep into the surrounding permeable lava field as engineers had expected it to. They soon realized that a high silica content in the lava had been released by the heated water and in turn sealed the rocks. Thus the lagoon gradually grew into a gigantic pool as more hot water was released. Because of the way silica (the lagoon water’s most abundant element) reflects sunlight, the water has a bluish tint.
Therapy for skin ailments
In the early 1980s, people began easing into the inviting warm waters. Not only did they find the dip agreeable, but reports soon surfaced that the experience had curative effects for such common afflictions such as psoriasis, eczema, rheumatism, and sciatica. You can find more historical details of the lagoon here.
Commercial opportunities for the warm healing waters were obvious. In 1995, a clinic for treatment of chronic skin conditions was established on the site. From this grew an enterprise now consisting of a couple of fancy hotels, a spa, two tony restaurants (one Michelin recommended), and more. In short, it has become quite the place, not to mention one of Iceland’s major tourist attractions.
Checking into the Blue Lagoon
I didn’t know all of this when we pulled in the Blue Lagoon parking lot, a broad space filled to capacity with cars, vans, and buses. We posed in front of the sign before checking in. The check-in was highly efficient, thanks to a number of attended computer stations. All was fully booked when we arrived. Without Anne’s reservations, we would have missed a memorable adventure.
At the reception area, we were given an electronic wristband which served to secure our lockers and to make purchases inside the lagoon. Thanks to the packages Anne had ordered, we were given towels, bathrobes, and slippers, and directed to the men’s and women’s locker areas. The water in the Blue Lagoon has no chlorine in it, so all guests must shower naked (the lagoon’s emphasis) before putting on swim suits, thus ensuring they are well cleansed before entering the water.
As I eased down the ramp into the huge pool, it felt somewhat like slipping into a hot tub, but there was a definite “smoothness” to the the water, and it felt fabulous. Once in, I could feel the squish of what I thought was a thin layer of silica mud on my toes. Anne and I found each other and explored sections of the lagoon. Submerged shoulder-high, we ambled and bobbed about, stopping at a poolside bar for Gull beers (the drink was part of the admission fee), and even having algae masks applied to our faces at another station. Those face masks, green and thin in texture, dripped off within minutes, but stickier white silica mud masks, also available, lasted much longer. Plenty of whitened faces floated above the shimmering azure surface.
A gigantic hot tub
The water temperature in the Lagoon varies between 37 to 40 degrees Celsius (98.6 to 104 Fahrenheit), comparable to a hot tub. It is a blend of fresh water and sea water that converged about a mile deep in the earth where extreme heat and pressure combined to force it up to the surface. Through methods I didn’t investigate, the lagoon is said to be naturally renewed ever 40 hours. Sites pumping the hot water in are spotted around the lagoon, and the water near those places is warmer, a difference we noticed when nearing those sites. Time was not a factor as we padded through the cozy, enveloping warmth, soothed and relaxed, zigzagging occasionally to avoid fellow bathers.
When we finally came up the ramp into the chilly air, I glanced at a wall clock and was astonished to see that we had been immersed for two hours. After we both showered away residual molecules of blue, Anne and I met in the cafeteria and had sandwiches for lunch. Tourists filled the tables. We found ourselves seated next to a retired British couple who had arrived via a cruise ship for their second trip to Iceland. Residents of Kent, they were hearty travelers, having covered much of the globe, yet somehow they had missed the USA. No problem, they were scheduled to fly to New York City later this year. Anne offered suggestions, among them certain Broadway plays they might enjoy.
Return to Reykjavik
Then it was back to Reykjavik where we checked into the now familiar Foss hotel. Anne then returned the rented Land Rover to Hertz, feeling rather sad to part with the vehicle that had served us well. She had picked it up in rain and, perhaps fittingly, drops began to fall as she left the lot. The evening sky had warned her, so she prudently had donned rain gear and enjoyed her 25-minute walk back to the hotel. Her rain-spattered face was grinning when I caught sight of her in the hotel lobby. We headed for the hotel’s Beer Garden for a light supper of Gull beer and an order of fish and chips that we shared. We had two more days in the town, and we began planning to make the most of it. Stay tuned.
Ending Note: My skin was noticeably smoother and firmer for a couple of days after soaking in the Blue Lagoon. Imagination? I don’t think so.
For our fifth day of our exploring Iceland, the land of fire and Ice, we had ambitious plans, with three major attractions on our list. We left our elegant but dimly lighted room in the Geysir Hotel and headed for the dining room, anticipating another delicious and expansive breakfast. We were not disappointed. A huge buffet, offering practically every breakfast item one could imagine was set up in there (shown above), all sorts of foods located in an extensive area behind the spot this photo was taken.
Notice the steam
Look through the windows above and notice the steam rising from thermal areas just across the road. Notice also the parched land and rock just outside the windows. a feature I assume the hotel’s landscape architect left natural to reflect the nearby thermal areas. Also located nearby is the Great Geysir, one described in print in the 13th Century, and the source of our word geyser. The Great Geysir has pretty much run out of steam, so to say, and it rarely erupts these days, but another good-sized one is just a short distance from the hotel.
Strokkur
Known as Strokkur, this geyser erupts frequently. Since we were so close (Strokkur is just a couple hundred yards from the hotel), Anne and I went to see it do its stuff, examining various hot bubbling springs on the way. A group of maybe 50 folks stood upwind from Strokkur, their phones and cameras at eye level. We joined them, and within a couple of minutes, WHOOSH!! Off it went. Strokkur’s water source heats quickly, and it erupts every 4 to 10 minutes, often spurting its plume of boiling water up 100 feet into the air or more.
Anne caught this shot of Strokkur in action
After our inspection of the engrossing thermal area (which reminded me of similar spots in Yellowstone National Park), we set off in our trusty Land Rover to explore more of Iceland’s diversified topography, our first stop being another watery wonder, Gullfoss, the most photographed waterfall in Iceland.
Google maps told us it was a short trip from Geysir to Gullfoss, and it was. When we arrived and stepped out of the car, the wind was whipping wildly (I had to grab my cap), turbulent water was pounding nearby, and the sun peeped out!
We made our way to near the roaring falls and paused with opened-mouth awe at the tumbling waters, their churning force. Anne walked down further down the path to where the mist was swirling and shot the video below. It’s best viewed on a full computer screen. After you click the play button in the center, I recommend you watch it in full view by clicking the symbol in the lower right corner. You’ll need to press your ESC button to come back to this view afterward. (I mention this because you may be as nontechnical as I am.)
GullFoss with its two tiers of falls is mesmerizing. We took time to stand and gaze at the scene, imagining the enormous source that fed this amazing waterfall, its average flow being about 375,000 gallons per second during the summer, less in winter. For more information about Gullfoss, see here.
Next we retraced our path through Geysir and drove on to see another fascinating example of Iceland’s topography. Google maps told us we had about an hour of driving to reach the Kerid Crater, a prediction that hit the target.
The Kerid Crater is believed to be a magma chamber that collapsed at the end of a volcanic eruption some 6.000 years ago. The crater is nearly 200 feet deep, including the water pooled at the bottom. One can amble all the way around the crater’s rim on the path provided and admire the colorful black and red slopes that contrast with the aquamarine water, but Anne and I had another major attraction on our schedule. More information about this ancient crater can be found here.
Our next target was Thingvellir, a fascinating national park that sounded absolutely fascinating. What made it so appealing?
Two reasons
First of all, it is the site where Iceland’s first governing assembly was formed, this occurring way back in 930. (Yes, in the tenth century. Think of that!). So Iceland developed a primitive representative parliament some 800 years before anything similar was adopted in the United States and France.
Secondly, part of western Iceland rests on the North American tectonic plate, while the rest of the country lies on the Eurasian tectonic plate. And these two gigantic plates are grinding and slowly moving apart from each other (at a speed of less than an inch each year), yet that slow, massive displacement is the cause Iceland’s frequent earthquakes, along with its clusters of erupting volcanoes.
Beyond that, Iceland is the only place in the world where this tectonic rift rises above sea-level, and, as we discovered when we arrived, you can see the edges of both plates clearly in Thingvellir. For more about this amazing piece of ground, see here.
Ready to hike between two gargantuan tectonic plates
The park is made for walking, and we set out to explore parts of it on foot. We hiked along a curling course, navigated lots of steps and stones, and discovered a hidden waterfall splashing over black volcanic rock. Much more information on this remarkable park can be found here.
We found another delightful, crystal clear waterfall splashing merrily over black rock
We then returned to our car via another path, covering some 2.5 Km on that late afternoon ramble. By then it was time for us to return to our base at the Geysir hotel. We had reservations for a special dinner that evening. Although our 2022 birthdays had occurred months earlier, we planned to celebrate them again while in Iceland. Anne piloted our Land Rover back to Geysir, thus completing the roughly triangular route we had followed on this inspiring day.
Once back in our ultramodern Geysir hotel, not to mention our dimly lighted room (although the lighting was irritating, the hotel overall is great), we had time to freshen up and even mix cocktails before wandering down to the hotel’s restaurant. Anne had alerted the staff to our special dinner, and we were offered glasses of champagne to set things in motion.
Celebrating 140 years!!! Anne’s 50 plus my 90
We ended out birthday fest with delicious chocolate caramel cake, a fitting end to our great day of exploration, a day that we happily noted had been nearly entirely free of rain! And more excitement lay ahead of us. Next morning, we were to return to Reykjavik, with one of our much anticipated stops along the way being the Blue Lagoon, a highly-touted and huge outdoor patch of milky blue waters. Anne had reserved time for us to float in its healing warmth. Stay tuned.
As most of you know, I am posting descriptions of each of our memorable days in Iceland. If you’ve missed any of our earlier days, you can find them by clicking on these choices: Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, Day 4.
Since arriving in Reykjavik Saturday morning, Anne and I had scurried about Iceland, excitedly exploring the island of fire and ice, but on our fourth day, we slowed down. We learned the Vik hotel serves its breakfasts until 10 a.m., so we decided to ease into Tuesday, delaying the half mile trek from our apartment to the hotel until 9 o’clock, and then lingering over another delectable buffet until the energetic staff began clearing tables. Only then did we return to our apartment, pack up, and check out, switching back to adventurous mood as we set out to explore Iceland’s Reynisfjara black sand beach, and much more.
At varying times Iceland’s erupting volcanoes have sent rivers of red hot lava into the icy North Atlantic, causing the ocean’s waters to sizzle as black volcanic rock is formed. Over centuries that rock erodes and wears down to produce shimmering black sand beaches, the most famous being Reynisfjara. This particular beach was featured, I am told, in Game of Thrones, as well as in other movies and shows, a little chunk of earth consisting not only of the black sand beach, but also towering cliffs and rocky lava formations that have formed into huge basalt columns.
Rain again!
It was raining lightly when we approached this iconic site, a prevailing soggy condition we had adapted to with aplomb. Yes, we really did adapt. After all, we had come to Iceland with rain suits, high spirits, and adventurous sentiments. And we refused to be deterred. As we stepped onto that black beach, we stopped to behold what can only be described as awe-inspiring nature. Take a look.
That gray promontory visible through the mist in some frames of the video is the not-too-distant Dyrhólaey, the site we had visited the night before (see here).
We began exploring, feeling the soft, almost mushy sand give under our shoes as we walked toward the cliff on our left. Following that we moved around the corner to inspect the tall rocky columns jutting up from the Atlantic, prudently keeping a proper distance from the churning Atlantic. We had heard, and signs had warned us, that unexpected huge waves and treacherous undertows wipe out travelers every year, permanently.
The basalt columns enticed a number of climbers, Anne among them.
After tramping along the beach, and soaking in the majestic surroundings, we walked inland about 200 yards to a neat cafe/gift shop. I said neat, because the building and the inside were indeed neat as the proverbial pin, with all merchandise displayed tastefully, and all in perfect order. Not only that, but the cafeterias routinely provided tasty offerings. We found a table for our leisurely lunch of ham and cheese croissants, and a Skyr cake with blueberries for dessert. (If you are not familiar with it, Skyr is an Icelandic product fitting somewhere between yogurt and cream cheese.) Our lunch ended our too brief interval at Iceland’s Reynisfjara black beach.
Next on our agenda was the Lava Center in Hvolsvollur, a drive westward of about 50 miles. The center was definitely worthy of a stop, and the hour plus we spent there paid dividends. (See more here). Much in the Center is interactive, and all exhibits worked flawlessly for us.
Anne in a special four-walled exhibit room in the Lava Center. By standing on an activating spot and pointing at a particular area of Iceland, she triggered further information from the display. The exhibits left no doubt that Iceland is indeed one of the most active volcanic areas on earth.
After learning all sorts of interesting tidbits at the Lava Center, we set our sights on our final destination of the day, the Geysir Hotel in the Haukadalur geothermal valley. The hotel lies just across the road from an active geothermal area, and it was completely remodeled recently in a marvelous modern style.
This is the smaller room of the hotel’s huge lobby. Anne said she would have loved to curl up with a book in the larger room, reading and luxuriating in that magnificent space, one exquisitely stylish, and very modern. (See more here.)
The hotel’s rooms were equally modern, but unfortunately dim. The darkness was only slightly penetrated by a few weak bulbs, this all presumably designed to match the shadowy mood of the elegant hotel. It didn’t work for me. On several occasions I uttered a mild (or maybe not) curse, because I couldn’t find a damn thing in my suitcase. I needed the flashlight on my iPhone to peer into the mysterious depths of my luggage. Anne and I mentioned this annoyance to a woman at the front desk, but she spouted what we had guessed she would, namely that the rooms were meant to be an extension of the mood of the entire hotel.
Despite what I’ve said above, I would recommend this hotel to anyone, and with enthusiasm! Everything within it is clean, neat, and unusually stylish. The restaurant was fine and, as apparently is standard in Iceland, the hotel’s breakfast buffet was excellent, not only plentiful, but also featuring numerous choices for individual tastes, and all absolutely delicious. Just one reminder, if you do plan to book a room here, remember to pack a flashlight, or better yet a lantern.
What to do for dinner?
We checked in at the Geysir Hotel after 6 p.m. and were disappointed that the in-house restaurant was completely booked for that evening. After reading through its extensive menu, we reserved a table for the following night. But where would we eat that night? There weren’t many choices. The woman at the front desk suggested two places, as I recall, one a small restaurant at the Skjol campsite, a drive of maybe 15 minutes away, which we chose. It didn’t sound promising, but we were hungry.
As we arrived at the site, we saw a few camper units, and even a few tents erected on the wet grass. (Yep, it was raining at the time.) The campsite didn’t appear to be thriving. A few yards beyond the campers was a modest building with a lit OPEN sign in one of the window. There were more cars parked nearby than in the photo below, but we weren’t overwhelmed.
Once inside, we discovered the place to be completely welcoming, not to mention warm, inviting, and full of life. In short, the place was jammed and buzzing, despite the fact that it lies essentially in the middle of nowhere. Many customers must have been locals, because the camp ground was sparsely populated. Despite the packed crowd, we were seated in a flash. We could feel the warm atmosphere soaking in as we ordered two Gull beers, the brand we had found to be zesty, and full of flavor.
The menu was rather extensive. We decided on a pepperoni, mushroom, and black olive pizza, along with salads. After ordering, I looked out through one of the broad windows. It wasn’t dark yet, and the flag marking the campground stood straight out, flattened and fluttering nervously in response to the powerful wind. Raindrops were falling. And I couldn’t suppress a smile.
A memorable pizza
Our pizza arrived, along with two generous bowls of a mixed salad that was deliciously zesty. But it was the pizza that ruled over all. It oozed with a smoky luscious flavor, and satisfied me better than any pizza I could remember. And the crust? Perfection itself. Taken all together at that moment, the excellent food, the happy, homey atmosphere, my daughter across the table, I felt myself glowing with pure joy, so much so that an odd notion occurred to me, one that reflected my feelings. “If I could do cartwheels,” I told Anne, “I would do one right now beside our table.”
We drove back to the Geysir Hotel and called it a day. (In case you’re wondering, no, I’m not misspelling the hotel’s name. I’ll explain next time.) Stay tuned.
If you haven’t read my earlier posts from this Iceland series, see them here:Day 1, Day 2, Day 3
Among the unanticipated pleasures we discovered while exploring Iceland, the island of fire and ice, were the hotel breakfasts. Iceland’s hotels, at least the ones Anne booked for us, set out each morning long and heavily laden buffets so tasty that breaking our fast became a daily delight. I’ll tell more in one of my coming posts, but now let’s focus on day 3 of exploring Iceland. We visited glaciers, icy lagoons, and checked out another impressive waterfall.
After a peaceful night in the Vik apartments (see here), and our scrumptious breakfast at the Vik hotel, we set our sights on the largest glacier in Iceland, Anne steering eastward along Route 1. The speed limit on that road is roughly 56 miles per hour (90 km/hour), and our target glacier, Vatnajokull, is about 120 miles distant from Vik, so our expected duration of the trip was about 2 1/2 hours. For most of that time we drove through rain and fog, but our Land Rover (mentioned here) kept us comfortable and dry.
The Good and the Bad
We encountered good and bad experiences along the way. Let’s get rid of the bad first. We had been told that highway patrols in Iceland usually do not bother drivers if they drive 100 km/hr or less. We also knew traffic cameras were scattered along the route. So Anne set the cruise control at 98, and we rolled along smoothly through the rain. At one point, when we were behind two slower cars, I pointed out there was room to pass with no oncoming traffic ahead.
Anne accelerated, passed both vehicles, and smoothly eased back into the proper lane just as a warning sign flashed. We had just passed a traffic camera, and I felt terrible. Without my prompting, Anne may not have passed at that precise time. Speeding fines in Iceland are exorbitantly expensive. I’m not sure exactly what speed the camera recorded, but I fear it was above 100. I haven’t heard whether a chain of bad news (through Hertz) has yet reached Anne. But it likely will.
A much better experience came about as two events coincided. First the rain let up and nearly stopped. Minutes afterward, as we drove through the small village of Kirkjubæjarklaustur (try your tongue with that one), a towering waterfall loomed to our left. The scene was so enticing that it demanded a stop, so we pulled into an adjacent parking lot and walked along a lower road near the base where we took photos.
This photo doesn’t capture the full impact of the scene. The wind was strong at the time, and the falling water often was blown off its downward course, at times curling half way to the left side of the picture. To gauge the length of the water drop, check out the fence posts below the rocks. For a time we simply stood silent, enjoying the beauty, and the force, of nature.
Anne had booked a boat ride for us on the Fjallsaron Glacier Lagoon in the early afternoon, so after a final admiring glance, we returned to our car and drove the remaining distance to the lagoon, arriving just at lunchtime. Fortunately, a cafe is located on the site, and we had time for a lunch of vegetable soup and bread that tasted home-baked. Then we checked in for our Zodiac boat ride (see here), where a small crowd was gathering. Along with others we were outfitted with waterproof jackets and life vests. See Anne below. Then we marched over a hill and down to the shore of the lagoon where we were photographed before entering one of the rubber boats.
Soon we were skimming over the icy water, powered by hefty outboard engines while weaving around icebergs of various sizes. (See our eager faces above.) We learned that Vatnajokull is huge (one edge of the glacier is visible in the background). The glacier covers more than 8% of the entire country and it extends over more than 3,127 square miles. Its average ice thickness is about 1,300 feet, but is some places it is well over half a mile deep. We were told that this lagoon hadn’t existed 100 years ago, and that over the past 20 years it had doubled in size. I later read that no glacier has more precipitation falling on it, or more water draining from it to the sea, than this south side of Vatnajokull. Apparently so much water is stored in this glacier that even Olfusa (the river with the greatest flow in Iceland) would require over 200 years of continuous heavy flow to carry all that water to sea. Fortunately, the sun broke through before we disembarked, putting a glow on everything. We walked up from the shore to a small hill where we paused to absorb the brilliant scene.
Another Glacial Lake
Another glacial lagoon was on our program for day 3, this one being nearby and called Jakulsarlon (see here). Not only was this lagoon close, it was grandly picturesque, and it sat right beside Route 1, it lying to the north, and the Atlantic beach to the south. We parked in the convenient lot beside the road and walked to near the waters edge, awed by the seemingly stationary icebergs floating just ahead of us.
We had learned that the denser the glacial ice, the bluer it appears. Notice the varying colors as you recall that most of an iceberg is underwater, the exact amount varying by the density of the ice, and the density of the water. In any case, there is plenty of ice below the surface here. It was raining at the moment, but it didn’t bother us at all. We found a convenient bench and rested our happy muscles. We even asked a fellow tourist to take our photo as we relaxed.
People started jabbering as we sat there, so we turned around and saw seals playing in the water, surfacing now and then in the frigid waters. We lingered, letting the scene seep in, and then drove back to our modern apartment in charming Vik. We treated ourselves to a leisurely evening cocktail before heading to the crowded and hip Smidjan Brugghus where we ordered and savored our simple dinner (huge, succulent burgers and fries washed down with drafts of Gull beer).
The bathroom in our unit contained a large washer and dryer, both front-loading, and complicated. The washer was a Bosch and the dryer a brand I did not recognize. Anne solved their mysteries after we returned from dinner, and she put them into action. So washing and drying clothing ended day 3 of our exploring Iceland, although while our clothes tumbled we previewed our coming day, which would include visits to volcanic black sand beaches, cliffs of basalt columns resembling organ pipes, and other attractions. I’ll tell you how it went. Stay tuned.
After lingering over our luscious breakfast buffet at the Foss Hotel on Sunday morning, we were eager to continue exploring Iceland, the island of fire and ice. Our first day (see here) had whetted our appetites for more. Anne caught a Hertz shuttle and picked up the rental she had ordered. She snared a good one, a practically new 2022 Land Rover Discovery (the odometer read just over 3,000 kilometers), and by the time she parked the vehicle outside our hotel she had figured out the vehicle’s basic controls. And the weather? Please examine the photo Anne took as she rented the car. (We learned to love gray clouds and rain during our stay.)
We quickly loaded loaded our luggage and headed out for our day’s destination, the town of Vik (pronounced veek by Icelanders). Our trip is marked in red on the accompanying map, with our destination located near the lower right corner. Notice the dropped pin on the map. It marks the site of Seljalandsfoss, the only waterfall in Iceland you can walk behind, and one we planned to explore on our way to Vik (see here).
A slight detour
Because we had an urge to check out Iceland’s Atlantic coast as quickly as possible, we took a longer route and headed southwest from Reykjavik on Route 41 with Anne at the wheel, retracing the road we had taken from the airport to Reykjavik’s city center upon arrival. Here’s a tidbit for you: Route 41, we were told, is the only divided highway in all of Iceland.
Although that momentarily surprised us, we soon learned that Iceland has little need for multi-lane highways. The 2022 population of Reykjavik is reported to be about 123,000, and Greater Reykjavik, which includes the capital city itself and the six municipalities around it, is comprised of something like 240,000 residents. Yet that relatively small constellation of folks represents more than two-thirds of Iceland’s total population (about 346,000 inhabitants). And, we discovered, traffic outside of the Reykjavik area was almost uniformly light.
A two lane road (the Ring Road) encircles the entire island. It usually appears on maps as Route 1, and it stretches for about 880 miles to wrap entirely around the island. During our little detour to the coast we stopped at a fishing village, Grindavik (see here), for a snack before making our way to Route 1 and heading eastward. The scene above is typical of much of our time on the Ring Road, especially the thin traffic, the cloud-fog shrouded landscape (often barely visible on our first day of driving), and the prevailing weather. Often we saw little but the bottoms of hills and mountains, and even those at times were nearly obscured by fog. Did you notice the raindrops on our windshield? Healthy cross winds also came into play, but our sturdy Land Rover paid them little attention as it rolled stalwartly along the pavement.
Here I’ll interrupt myself to mention an oddity of the trip, a first for me, and for Anne. Never before had either of us spent time in a foreign country without exchanging U.S. dollars for the local currency. But during our eight joyous days in Iceland, we exchanged no money, nor did we touch a single Icelandic króna! How did that work?
Credit cards carry the day
Iceland is remarkably credit card friendly. Even locals rarely use cash (except for bus transportation, I was told). We discovered that even the smallest businesses would take Mastercard or Visa, so we just flashed our cards to pay for whatever, small or large. I had signed up for a Discover Card as an economy move (Discover does not add foreign transaction fees to charges as my Visa card does). This saved me some money, but not all establishments honored the Discover card.
Here’s a tip for you if you ever plan to visit Iceland. Filling a car’s gas tank isn’t simple. In fact, it offers unique frustrations for the unwary. One doesn’t simply pop in a card at a station and start gassing up. Nope. You have to use a previously assigned PIN with your credit card, and often you also have to estimate the amount of fuel you want to purchase in advance, along with other surprises. Such details aren’t important here, but, if you ever plan to head that way, prepare yourself.
On to Seljalandsfoss
It almost certainly would be impossible to miss the majestic Seljalandsfoss when driving past it. The waterfall, with its broad width and its parking lot churning with cars, jumps out at you with force. As we pulled into a parking spot on the busy lot, a man, obviously an American, approached us with a parking permit, explaining that he and his wife mistakenly had each bought a parking pass, and, since only one was needed, he generously gave the second to us, a friendly gesture much appreciated.
Before walking the couple of hundred yards to the base of the waterfall, we donned our rain wear (it was raining lightly, but we suited up because the heavy mist and splashing gives one a good soaking as one nears the Seljalandsfoss waterfall, which drops about 200 feet (roughly equivalent to a 20 story building). The water tumbles with prodigious power.
Stopping before we headed to the path behind the waterfall
When we came along side of the falling torrent, the path behind the falls looked considerably more daunting than we had expected, but, after the briefest of pauses, we plunged ahead and made our way over the treacherous trail strewn with uneven, slippery rocks. I took a brief video of the scene during our moment of indecision.
Did you notice the folks walking behind the falls? They were on an easier stretch of the path. After we emerged from our adventure of encircling the waterfall, and feeling exuberant, we hiked a short distance to second waterfall that splashed into a cave and evaluated that before returning to the car to continue our drive to Vik, feeling quite pleased that we were exploring Iceland on our own.
As often happens in Iceland, we soon ran into another impressive waterfall, this one called Skogafoss. We couldn’t pass it by, so we stopped for a good look. I was satisfied with our adventure at the previous Seljalandsfoss, so I decided to enjoy this wonder of nature from the car, but intrepid Anne marched to the base of the falls and had her presence there documented with help from a nearby traveler.
This waterfall, about 80 feet across, also features a drop of some 200 feet, and nearby on the right side is a rugged stairway leading to the top of the hill and the falls. Anne couldn’t resist the challenge of tramping up those hundreds of steps, which took some good minutes, but she was rewarded with a majestic view of the falls and the river that feeds it. Skogafoss clearly is no puny attraction.
After our second waterfall interlude, we quickly covered the remaining short distance to Vik and checked into the Vik Apartments (a part of the Vik Hotel). Anne had booked us there for two nights. As we were checking in to our modern 2-bedroom apartment, a minor miracle occurred. IT STOPPED RAINING. It was dinner time then, but the patches of blue sky cried for more outdoor exploring.
Which we did! We had passed a recommended stopping point as we approached Vik, because the top of the attraction was shrouded in clouds, and we knew nothing would be visible if we drove up to the summit of Dyrhólaey, a promontory rising 400 feet over the ocean and known for its spectacular view of Iceland’s South Coast. Dyrhólaey was named for the massive arch in a rocky mass just off its shoreline. (Apparently the name means “door-hole” in Icelandic). Now with the clearing skies, we hopped into our Land Rover and headed the short distance westward to drive to the top of that imposing rocky mass. As we approached it glowed brightly in sunshine.
We drove to the top of this hunk of rock and got some interesting photos
Above is a photo of the “door hole” through which I’m told certain boats have cruised, and even a stunt pilot reportedly flew his small plane through it. The shoreline along here is covered with black sand, a type formed when volcanic rocks (most commonly basalt) have eroded. This sand, much like the more common beige-colored variety on most of the world’s beaches takes millions of years to emerge. How ever they are made, black beaches are striking. In my coming post of Day 4, I will show you just how neat they can be.
After spending the better part of an hour wandering around on our lofty perch, we drove back to Vik and walked a short distance from our apartment to one of the few restaurants in the small town (Vik has about 270 residents). We arrived at the Strondin Pub near 9:30 p.m., and found the place to be cheerfully noisy and very crowded. While waiting for our table, we each ordered a Gull beer (pronounced something like “gutl,” a bright brew that I heartily recommend).
After we were seated and served, we gave our soups two enthusiastic thumbs up, but our Atlantic Char, recommended by our waiter, was decidedly “fishy.” A minor disappointment because the Char was the only less-than-delicious dish we had on our entire trip! We passed up dessert, returned to our apartment, and smiled as we reviewed our second day of exploring the island of fire and ice. Then we went over our next day’s schedule, a full day promising to include such excitements as a boat tour on a glacial lake and an up close and personal visit to a black beach. Stay tuned.
