Having slept well, we rose to foggy skies, dashing our hopes for nice morning views of the nearby mountains. This kind of weather was what we’d come to expect in Iceland - rain, fog, overcast, perpetual light, with occasional sunbreaks. It felt very familiar coming from the Pacific Northwest.
It was time for breakfast! Dinner for breakfast! Specifically, Icelandic Frozen Dinner for breakfast! As we had eaten “lunch” the day before at 4:30pm, aware only of our stomachs and not the time, when it came time for dinner, surprisingly, we weren't that hungry for the frozen dinners we'd purchased in the last real town we were in: Holmavik. Which is why we ended up eating dinner for breakfast. For Dan, that meant lamb steaks with “30% gravy,” caramelized potatoes, and peas that turned out to be an unholy shade of green. For @mini.turbodb, a beef lasagna, which seemed like the safest choice. Lastly, for me, what I had chosen turned out to be “meat balls” on a bed of buttered cabbage, with a side of unsalted carrots and broad beans, and another side of new potatoes. All were palatable, with @mini.turbodb’s failing in the texture department. My “45% mutton, 55% beef” balls very much had the texture and appearance of… well, they seemed to be anatomically correct. To help balance out our meat-and-carb meal, we had purchased the best looking of the well-travelled broccoli heads the convenience store/grocery store/restaurant in Holmavik had on offer. We had treated the head of broccoli like it like the precious cargo it was, complete in its cellophane wrapped perfection, but come dinner-for-breakfast time, we’d completely forgotten all about it, and when we packed up, we realized we had left our very large cruciferous vegetable behind in the fridge when we were far down the road. Boo!! (I love cruciferous vegetables.)
Snaefellsnes Peninsula with the near islands of Breidafjordur in the distance
Our adventures today were going to be focused on the Snaefellsnes Peninsula, a piece of land that juts straight out to the west of Iceland, below the West Fjords (which look like an odd hand-shaped appendage off the northwest corner) and north of the capital Reykjavik. Geologically, the Snaefellsnes Peninsula is a good synopsis of the rest of Iceland with lava fields, fjords, waterfalls, picturesque mountains, a few distantly spaced cute towns, and it even has a volcano in a national park at the very tip. I knew that it would be a popular drive, with many stops along the way, but I wasn't sure which stops along the mostly dirt road would appeal the most.
As we drove further onto the peninsula, we noticed a few cars pulled over by the side of road, which in these parts is usually a good sign. Off in the distance was the Stykkisholmur shipwreck.
Stykkisholmur Shipwreck
The car, at this point, having driven on many rainy and muddy gravel roads throughout Iceland over the previous six days, was next level dirty, requiring backseat riders to exit with a high degree of caution. The overcast skies turned to drizzle, which did not improve the road conditions.
Dirty car
The Snaefellsnes is also the setting of a lot of Viking lore, whose stories I had mostly spared my travelling companions, but I could not help but to share the story of Berserkers - Viking men who went into battle bare chested, like bears (hence the Ber in Berserker), who were considered very valuable fighters for their crazy ferocity. They were also considered to be a little insane and unruly. Here’s the shortened version of the saga:
There once were two Berserkers who worked for a man named Styr, who had a daughter, Asdis. One of the Berserkers wanted to marry Asdis. Styr told the Berserker that he would only allow the marriage if he and his friend built a “carriage way” or “bridle trail” (road) through a lava field - a seemingly impossible task. The Berserkers finished the impossible in record time, much to Styr’s surprise, as the whole point was that he didn’t want one of these crazy Berserkers to marry his daughter. So as an additional “reward,” Styr offered the men a sauna, which they naively accepted. Styr then locked them in, killing them (in some tellings, they broke out, same result though). The end. Psyche. Sagas aren’t called sagas for nothing… Styr then became known as Styr the Killer and Asdis went on to marry the Snorri the Godi of Stykkisholmur (Godi: the governmental head and general wiseman of the area), who appears in many different sagas.
A lot of action happened in these parts 1100 years ago. Is there a moral to the story of the Berserkers? Not as far as I can tell. Why did this random story persist? Perhaps to explain the road through the impossible. Archeologists have dug up a cairn in the Berserkjagata (the name of the lava field with a road through it built by the Berserkers) and found the skeletons of two very large burly men, so maybe it is real. Ok, mom, enough with the awkward stories.
Every now and then, the skies would part, just a little, illuminating the hillsides and the waterfalls. Of course, we had to stop and take it in. How can you pass up a waterfall?
Kolgrafarfjordur lagoon
Pressing on, we made it to Grundarfjordur, where we finally learned from previous mistakes and bought packaged lunches (a sandwich for Dan, pesto pasta salads for me and the kid) so that we'd have some sustenance when the mood struck us. Of course, the mood struck us immediately. Fortunately, just outside of town, there was a nice spot by the side of the road with a picnic bench and lovely view and the drizzle had decided to give us a brief reprieve. Who could pass that up?
Kirkjufell from above
After eating one of our best lunches in Iceland, (who would have thunk it?!), we decided to look around our nice little picnic spot to see what all the fuss was about - the nearby parking lot was very busy.
Oh my god, why did they need this sign?
Oh my god, I need a picture of this sign. (left) | Take a picture of me pooping! (right)
"A mountain like an arrowhead" - Game of Thrones
After framing the perfect shot a few hundred times (and incidentally, helping others re-enact their favorite scene from Game of Thrones), we got back on the road. We passed a minimum-security prison just around the corner from Kirkjufell, which is where we told @mini.turbodb she would end up if the authorities ever caught up with her for slipping into the bathroom two days ago without paying for the privilege.
Just before reaching the town of Hellissander, we decided to take a detour to see a very particular church. Almost every church in Iceland, with a few notable exceptions, looks pretty much the same - red roof, concrete construction, off-white stucco exterior - and this one was no exception (though, it turns out, it was the first church to be built this way). This church, however, was special because it was here that Christopher Columbus spent the winter of 1477, and undoubtedly learned about Leif Erikson and his voyages to the "New World."
Ingjaldshóll Church
As we never touristed alone, shortly after arriving at Ingjaldshóll church a group of Chinese tourists showed up with some heavy dance music pumping out of their car. They got out, took a picture, and then left as quickly as they had arrived.
The drizzle had restarted while we were investigating the church which made for the perfect backdrop for the murals in Hellissandur. The mural project began in 2018 in one small corner of the once quiet (and still quiet) fishing village as part of a revitalization project and as an expression of the village's cultural identity and artistic community, and it has expanded since. Unlike my crew, I knew what was in store, and I was looking forward to hearing their delighted surprise when they saw the big images painted across the buildings. Not that other villages in Iceland don't have murals (see Vestmannaeyjabær on the Westman Islands from part 1 of our trip), but Hellissandur is known to have some of the best.
Badass
When whales can fly
So while I knew that there were murals, I didn't know how many or how concentrated they would be, and I certainly didn't expect that there would be a teenage summer camp learning how to rappel off a building led by the local search and rescue happening in the midst mural central.
Ready for anything
Something must have been going on with the search and rescue teams in West Iceland: We had seen another search and rescue team leading a group in learning the Macarena in the drizzle.
We, with our own teenager in tow, worked our way around the mural covered buildings, never sure what we would find around each corner. We had fun discussing which was our favorite (mine was the ram) as we worked our way around, stepping over ropes and other climbing paraphernalia.
Ram, which can be seen as you come down the road
Kinda creepy
After our urban stroll, we got back into the Toyota, being careful to avoid the mud, and headed toward the national park at the very tip of the peninsula. The first stop was Saxholl crater, which was much like Grabok crater once again proving that this peninsula had a little bit of everything from the rest of Iceland.
Saxholl Crater
The sun began to cooperate, though we still could not see the volcano or the glacier Snaefellsnesjokull for whom both the national park and the entire peninsula are named. We continued to drive around, reaching Djupalonssandur beach, a place we had hoped to walk along their black sand beach (as we had at the other end of the island at Reynisfjara beach), but the road was blocked by construction. So the journey continued to Arnastapi, and its arches (success!) and many sea-birds.
Arches of Arnastapi
Like the family on a mission that we were, we did not linger opting instead to venture to the next destination: Budir and its Black church. The entire building was mobbed, as though by tourist zombies, looking through every window and pulling on every door looking for a way in, waving self-sticks that probed the air, attempting to get the most Insta-fabulous picture for their socials. This scene really shouldn't have been a surprise: Iceland has approximately 364,000 residents and 2.5 million visitors annually; it was no wonder that we were never really alone anywhere we went. Sizing up the situation, we decided to stare from a distance and then move on - traffic was becoming an issue as cars were having trouble leaving the parking lot due to some sheep blocking the road (and by the photographers using the sheep crossing as yet another photo op).
I'm a sheep and this is my place
A note about the sheep in Iceland: they were EVERYWHERE and they basically had the run of the place. The sheep were almost always in ewe/twin lamb sets - apparently the rams are kept locked up so as to keep the lambs showing up at the right time.
Jon Kjartan Volcano and Bjarnafoss waterfall
We admired the last waterfall of day - Bjarnafoss - from a distance, and called it good. At this point, we had circumnavigated the peninsula and were thoroughly exhausted. It was time to think about dinner, always a hot topic among the adults that elicited groans from the very-much-a teenager. Just decide already!
As we waited to go through the Hvalfjordur tunnel that connected Akranes in West Iceland with Reykjavik to the south, an idea occurred to Dan - What about Mexican? We all wanted our last meal to be special; eating is something we all do, usually three times a day, so it should be something pleasurable and good! Lately, it seemed like we hadn't been having the best of times in the food department - just having what we could find, getting by, and avoiding unappetizing soup which seemed to be the most popular thing on the island (perhaps we were short sighted and should have tried the soup at the museum of sorcery and witchcraft - though getting soup from a wizard seemed like a dicey proposition). A pitch was made for authentic Icelandic fine dining - the young one and I had heard tales of amazing food - but given what we'd seen, even we had grown skeptical. Mexican food would be its own interesting risk and interpretation in a place about as far away from Mexico as one can get. It would definitely be an adventure.
I found the highest rated place near us on Google maps, and pressed start on the directions. It turned out that the restaurant, La Poblana, was in the heart of the most touristy part of Reykjavik, which in my trip planning, I had assiduously avoided, though secretly longed to see. La Poblana was on the second floor, which piqued my interest as any second-floor restaurant has to be good enough to maintain a customer base who a) have discovered it (doesn't just survive by feeding unknowing tourists stumbling in off the street with crummy food) and b) are willing to walk up a flight of stairs to a small restaurant to get whatever hidden food gems are there. I made a reservation, and we rushed to get there in time - it was the only spot left.
Taco Trio - carnitas, chicken, and fish
Nachos we just had to order
While not a completely local joint - though there was at least one table of Icelanders - it was packed and it was good. We ordered copiously and we ate like kings. We laughed to ourselves as the Swedish couple next to us complained about how spicy everything was - "No, no jalapenos on the nachos!" (they sent them back). And I giggled when a Spanish foursome came in - "this is going to be interesting," I told my tablemates as I smiled. You see, in my experience, Spanish food is very different from Mexican food, especially in one key area - cheese. In Spain, cheese isn't part of dinner, it is its own thing, which can happen or not, but usually afterwards, and not part of any dish. In Mexico... well in most other countries interpretation of Mexican cuisine... cheese is in everything, on top, mixed in, and generally unavoidable. So when one of the women at the table ordered quesabirria tacos "sin queso," I nearly laughed out loud. That's like ordering a hamburger "hold the burger!" It was hilarious and yet so spot on I thought she must be joking. The waitress, who was not from Mexico, but Valencia, Spain, was completely understanding and made it happen. Needless to say, we had a great time eating our Mexican-by-way-of-Iceland dinner, and it was probably my favorite of our time on the island.
Once back outside and fully satiated, it was time to pick up some last-minute postcards (the tourist street had no shortage of these) and to walk down Skólavörðustígur, the "rainbow street" just around the corner from La Poblana.
Dan and @mini.turbodb on Skólavörðustígur
From there, it wasn't far to Reykjavik's other big landmark, the Hallsgrimskirkja church.
Hallsgrimskirkja church - the second tallest building in Iceland
Hallsgrimskirkja church - The shape of the pillars that make up the spire is meant to look like the basalt pillars of Reynisfjara beach
We got back in the car, headed to our airbnb, and called it a night. It had been a fantastic trip, and now we were ready to go home. We'd seen a lot and had a lot of fun doing it, all of it together. I can't wait for our next big out-of-country adventure!
The Whole Story
