Reykjavík Grapevine - 29.08.2014, Blaðsíða 37

37The Reykjavík GrapevineIssue 13 — 2014 TRAVEL
the arctic breeze, plunging immediately
down a slope of verdant greenery. Ed-
ible berries, bluebells and wild thyme
grow amongst trickling streams and low
hanging branches laden with late-sum-
mer leaves. After an hour of zig-zagging
through these glorious woods, we're
back at the base camp, and, with weary
limbs, decide to call in a day.
The nearest town, Kirkjubæjarklaus-
tur, is 40 kilometres away, so many travel-
lers decide to camp, but we're booked in
at the conveniently located Skaftafell Ho-
tel. It's a choice we're immediately happy
about, especially after a hot shower, and
substituting our trail mix and protein bars
for a delicious meal of smoked arctic char
and T-bone lamb steaks in the restau-
rant. We sink into comfortable beds and
a deep sleep, waking up refreshed and
ready for our second day of glacier explo-
ration.
The falling glacier
At the Skaftafell visitor's centre, a little
village of cabins has sprung up around
the car park in recent
years, housing vari-
ous competing tour
companies that offer
climbing and hiking
activities on the near-
by glacier tongues.
Our trip is run by Gla-
cier Guides, who operate on Falljökull.
Our guide for the day will be Fannar, a
helpful and cheerful young Mossfells-
bær chap with a bright disposition and a
wealth of interesting and relevant knowl-
edge at his fingertips.
After borrowing some well-used (and
slightly tattered) Cintamani waterproofs
and hiking boots (hired at 1,000 ISK per
pair), the climb begins. We're a group of
eight that includes Polish, German and
English couples, myself, and my compan-
ion for the hike—she's an Icelander, and
apparently only the second native to take
this tour this summer.
Fannar explains the geography as we
go, stopping every ten minutes or so to
point out features and identify types of
terrain. At our first
stop, he tells us we've
already entered the
glacier without even
realising it—we're al-
ready standing on ice
that's been covered
by a layer of thick dirt
and grit. When we
get to the naked ice, we're given climb-
ing harnesses and crampons, and a
short lesson in how to walk in them—feet
splayed when going uphill, straight and
parallel when going down, and kept apart
at all times so as to avoid skewering one-
self with the spikes, and so forth.
Before long, we're crunching across
dazzling white ice in the sunshine. We
soon reach a glacial feature known as a
moulin—a hole of about one metre in di-
ameter, through which a stream of melt-
water trickles deep into the sheet below.
Fannar drops some screws into the ice,
attaching a line to each of our harnesses
in turn so we can lean out over the open-
ing and see the water tumbling into the
darkness and vanishing from sight. It's
beautiful, and chilling to imagine what
might happen were one to slip. "Be care-
ful," smiles Fannar, as he demonstrates
the best way to stand, "because if you
were to fall in, well... that would be the
end of your tour."
Frozen dreamscape
Falljökull is an interesting glacier to
hike, because its icefall—the area where
the near-vertical cascade of ice hits the
ground and begins a more gentle descent
to sea level—is reachable on foot in about
an hour. We're quickly immersed in this
almost fantastical landscape, traversing
dappled plains and jagged spikes, banks
and steep canyons. The shapes in the ice
are chaotic and ever-changing, alternat-
ing between geometric and organic, with
arterial blue depths visible in the larger
cracks. Fannar spends time scoping out
the immediate area for interesting fea-
tures—we end up drinking water straight
from the glacier's surface, clambering
through a short ice tunnel, and happily
exploring Falljökull's surface for a couple
of wonderful hours. His curious and sun-
ny disposition adds insight and charm to
the trip, and we feel like we've seen an
impressive range of features before be-
ginning the slow and careful descent.
A short drive away, we stop at Fjall-
sárlón, the last stop on the tour, donning
bright red body suits for a dinghy trip
amongst the floating icebergs. These
huge chunks of glacier have become
detached from Vatnajökull, and will melt
away slowly into the steely grey water, or
perhaps find their way out to sea. Even
here, the glacier is dangerous—as they
shrink, icebergs can flip over dramati-
cally, causing a mini-tsunami in the lake.
From its faraway peak to this watery
terminus, the Vatnajökull region offers
an escape from the everyday through an
amazingly varied natural landscape.
As night falls on the long homeward
bus ride, I fall into deep, well-earned
slumber, already dreaming of a quick re-
turn.
Distance from Reykjavík
325 km
We're quickly im-
mersed in this almost
fantastical landscape,
traversing dappled
plains and jagged
spikes, banks and
steep canyons. The
shapes in the ice are
chaotic and ever-
changing, alternating
between geometric
and organic, with arte-
rial blue depths visible
in the larger cracks.
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