Reykjavík Grapevine - 11.09.2015, Side 28

www.elding.is
Imagine Peace Tower tour
From 10th of October until 8th of December
Daily departure at 20:00
Different departures apply from 9th of December until 26th of March

Elding Whale Watching schedule – all year round
* From 15 May to 15 September
** From 15 June to 31 July

Make sureit’s Elding!
ELDING
WHALE WATCHING
from Reykjavik
Call us on +354 519 5000
or visit www.elding.is
Jan-Feb Mar Apr May Jun Jul Aug Sep Oct Nov-Dec
EL-01 / EL-02 / EL-03
13:00 13:00
9:00 9:00
13:00
9:00
13:00
9:00
13:00
9:00
13:00
9:00
13:00
9:00
13:00
9:00
13:00
17:00* 17:00 17:00 17:00 17:00*
10:00
14:00
10:00
14:00
10:00
14:00
13:00
20:30** 20:30
NORTHERN
LIGHTS CRUISE
www.elding.is
Reservations:
+354 519 5000
Daily departures from 01 September
So it was with excitement that I woke
up one Saturday in Seyðisfjörður to see
a change, with strong sunlight shining
through the curtains, creating dancing
shadows on the bedroom wall. I eyed the
blue sky with suspi-
cion as I wolfed down
breakfast, set on using
this rare fine day to
explore the mountains
around the town.
Stopping in the
town’s sole minimart
to pick up supplies, I
bumped into a friend
who’d had the same
idea. We decided to
join forces, striding
out of town along the
fjord’s northern shore,
stripping off hoodies
and raincoats as we
walked in the sud-
den, improbable heat.
Seyðisfjörður’s win-
dows gleamed across
the water, its eggshell-blue church
glowed in the sun, and just a few lonely
clouds drifted across the sky.
Don’t go chasing waterfalls
The trail beginning is all-but hidden. Up
a gravel road and over a ridge lies a long
valley that very gradually ascends into
the mountains. Following the bright yel-
low path markers, we wandered along
the bank of the river that flows down
from the heights, aiming for a high lake
of Vestdalsvatn, five or so kilometres
away.
The dirt path zigzagged up rocky
outcrops, past a series of tumbling wa-
terfalls. Each new tract of flatland was
met by another waterfall, then another
plain, as if we were ants climbing a se-
ries of giant steps made for a much big-
ger creature.
After two hours of
gradually creeping high-
er, we turned back to see
a breathtaking view out
to sea. The river looked
like a meandering rivulet
gleaming in the sun, and
a single boat chugged
out of the fjord far below;
the distant mountains
seemed a deep, hazy
blue, gracefully curving
down to sea level.
As we ascended
ever higher, the land
changed from red and
ochre mud and verdant
green grassland to un-
dulated rock-strewn
plains, laced with vivid
white roots and reeds. At one point, we
were confronted by a wide patch of left-
over hillside snow dusted with black ash.
Stamping emphatically into the steep
slush for grip, we slowly made our way
diagonally upwards and rejoined the
path, hoping it was the worst obstacle in
our way.
Touching distance
We were gradually walking up into the
clouds, through increasingly treacher-
ous bogs and scree slopes, when the
path hit a wide, rapid-flowing mountain
stream. After examining the torrent for
a foothold, nothing seemed quite safe
enough. After adding a few chunks of
rock to a submerged line of stepping
stones, we sat down for a picnic in the
mist, defeated.
After a while, a couple of brightly
coloured figures appeared around a
hill in the middle distance. They strode
forth confidently, using climbing poles
to steady themselves at every step,
dressed head to toe in pro-hiker gear.
When they reached the water, they
drove the poles into the riverbed and
crossed to our side.
They turned out to be a couple on
holiday from Vancouver. “The lake is
maybe half an hour more,” they said.
“There’s some pretty deep snow and
some wet bogs up ahead. It’s nice up
there, the lake is frozen over.” They con-
tinued on their way. “Get some poles!”
shouted the woman over her shoulder,
as they marched off down the slope. An-
other well-kitted-out hiker passed not
long after, showing us a photograph of
the lake that lay tantalisingly out of our
reach—the frosted surface of the water
was barely visible through a white, spec-
tral murk.
We may not have reached our target,
but its a spectacular route nonetheless.
The path back to the town faces the
spectacular fjord view the whole way
down, threading its way back across the
streams, scree slopes and marshland to-
wards Seyðisfjörður.
Find out more at
www.visitseydisfjordur.com
Summer was a mercurial season in east Iceland this year. The region often has a natural low
cloud ceiling—an oppressive grey nothing that drifts over the Eastfjords, hanging just above
the rooftops of the tiny towns—but this year, it felt impenetrable. The sun didn’t break through
for weeks at a time. Even when it was warm, it was the odd warmth of a faraway summer sun
radiating through the murky weather.
Words and Photo
John Rogers
28 The Reykjavík GrapevineIssue 14 — 2015TRAVEL
A Walk In
The Clouds
A rare sunny summer's day in Seyðisfjörður
meant hiking towards a far-flung lake
“We turned back to
see a breathtaking
view out to sea.
The river looked
like a meandering
rivulet gleaming
in the sun, and far
below a single boat
chugged out of the
fjord; the mountains
seemed a deep,
hazy blue, grace-
fully curving down
to sea level.”
Flights provided by Air Iceland:
www.airiceland.is