First waterfall at Thingvellir
Driving from Keflavik airport, at first it feels like you’re just heading out across the same sad, flat, vaguely industry-battered scrubland that seems to surround a lot of the world’s airports. But it only takes a kilometer or two before you realise that the lumps of rock aren’t abandoned quarrying or unfinished foundations, but natural volcanic basalts only thinly covered with grass and soil. And then you realise the grey surface isn’t rock but a plump cushion of curiously thick moss. A long way off, amongst some hills, there’s definitely smoke rising out of the ground and up into the hazy air.
It starts to feel quite promisingly like Iceland won’t be the same as other places!
Our hotel is a bit on the poor side. I get the impression of an old and uninteresting hotel that had closed down, and then new owners coming in with snazzy new wall art and furniture but no attempt (yet) to upgrade anything as useful as the bathrooms. The bar/restaurant is decidedly closed.
Nevermind, for dinner we stroll twenty minutes along a kinda nice tourist/hipster main street to a foodhall, and stop at a recommended bar/dining-counter place called “Skal!” This turns out to be an awesome choice. The food is superb, particularly the arctic char with capers, onion and mash. Their cocktail waiter is a naturally charming hipster who crafted drinks with a real flair and clarity of flavour, some of the best I’ve had in ages. Maureen’s lovage daiquiri was the star.
So, mostly a day of travel (with masks on!) but also a warm and promising welcome to Iceland. Warm except for the weather; three layers needed, in August!
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