Reykjavík Grapevine - 05.06.2015, Síða 30

30 The Reykjavík GrapevineIssue 7 — 2015TRAVEL
How to get there: Follow Road 1 to Brú in
Hrútafjörður, and then turn onto Road 61. Drive for
about 100 km to Hólmavík, follow the same road
for another 12 km until you come to a right turn
signposted Road 643 Norðurfjörður. After another
60 km you will arrive in Djúpavík.
Car provided by Hertz Iceland:
www.hertz.is
Room provided by Hotel Djúpavík:
www.djupavik.com
Djúpavík
But anything to get out of 101, right? So
I accept, and off we go, headed to a tiny
town called Djúpavík. I pronounce it
incorrectly—more like Dubrovnik—and
everyone in the office laughs at me. But
such is life in Iceland for a foreigner;
this land is forever humbling. I pack
a sweater, an extra shirt, and a swim-
suit —all the Icelandic essentials—and
like Brienne of Tarth, bid my farewell to
King's Landing (Reykjavík), driving out
of the city in a brand new hired Skoda.
"It's only done 14km," says the fresh-
faced kid at the Hertz place.
The adventure begins! Almost. We
instantly hit rush hour traffic while get-
ting on the highway. At the same time,
my travel companion starts playing in-
die pop. This mix makes no sense to me.
Gridlock soundtracked by hipsters—
and Sartre said hell was other people?
Spring: Lava Fields
Once we get out past the city limits, the
traffic dies down. Amidst breathtaking
scenery, the music feels more fitting. The
mountains bulge like mounds of black
Play-Doh out of the flat grasslands sur-
rounding the road. I stop to take photos,
but they fail to adequately give any sense
of this majestic scale. I feel small—but as I
said, this country forever humbles.
After a snack stop in Borgarnes, the
grasslands abruptly turn into porridgy
lava fields. It’s static, but like a good
painting the landscape gives the illu-
sion of movement—a rough ocean tide
suddenly turned to stone. With the sun
shining bright, we pull over onto the
shoulder of the highway for our first
scenic stop.
Picking up a couple of moss-cov-
ered basaltic rocks, I find them to be
surprisingly light—breakable by hand,
even. The lava fields seem to go on
endlessly, interrupted only occasionally
by a few acres of crops. This shocks me.
What masochistic Viking came across
this plain and thought, “Hey Þórsteinn!
Grab those oxen and start clearing, this
place looks perfect!” Maybe it’s some-
thing only Icelanders understand. (How
well did ’50 Shades of Grey’ sell here?
Must look up.)
Summer: Glanni Waterfall
When driving along any road in Iceland,
it’s important to look out for one sign in
particular: a blue and white swirly Celt-
ic square. These signs mark “Points of
Interest,” which are particular sites that
some man in the transportation sector
of the Icelandic government deemed
worthy of exploration.
We see one marking a waterfall and
pull over. It’s gotten a bit chilly, but the
grass is vividly green and there are a
few wildflowers, so I'm into it. A short
windy walk through some rough brush
(conveniently located next to a mini-
golf course) leads us to the Glanni wa-
terfall.
Though you can hear the rapids
from far away, the viewing point still
seems to come out of nowhere. It’s
much bigger than seems appropriate
for the generally flat topography of
Words Hannah Jane Cohen
Photos John Rogers & Hannah Jane Cohen
“Hey Hannah, you can drive, right? Do you want to drive John up north, to do an interview?”
“Up north”—that’s what they told me. You’ll drive “up north. ” In my naiveté, I assumed that
by “up north” they meant something like Winterfell, the remote countryside home of the Stark
family in ‘Game of Thrones’. Who could've foreseen that actually, they meant going much
further: all the way beyond The Wall, to a remote, frozen and unforgiving wilderness.
A R O A D T R I P T O D J Ú P A V Í K
ÞÓRSHÖFN
VOPNAFJÖRÐUR
GRÍMSEY
ÍSAFJÖRÐUR
AKUREYRI
EGILSSTAÐIR
REYKJAVÍK