Reykjavík Grapevine


Reykjavík Grapevine - 06.10.2017, Blaðsíða 52

Reykjavík Grapevine - 06.10.2017, Blaðsíða 52
It’s raining as myself and my road trip partner set off on our six hour jaunt to Myvatń, in northern Ice- land. It’s a dreamy area, punctu- ated by steamy hot springs, caves, and brusque lava fields, which sprawl around the shore of one of Iceland’s biggest lakes. As the rain beats down, we pass through jag- ged mountains covered in deep purplish heather and daubed with olive green, rusty red, and the occasional flash of ochre. I’m reminded of the smudgy and bold colours of oil pastels. Eventual- ly, the mountains give way into a calming fjord, lapping slowly. I feel reverent. After a brief stop in Húsavík, we finally arrive in the tiny village of Reykjahlíð. Lake Myvatń winks in the sunlight, serene and beau- tiful. We spend a minute watch- ing a group of ducks glide across the water, then set off again for Dimmuborgir. An eerie calm Dimmuborgir, or the “Black For- tress,” is a 1km stretch of errati- cally shaped lava columns. They formed when hot lava cascaded over the ponds trapped beneath, causing the rising steam to form vents in the lava. The resulting cavern then collapsed, leaving be- hind a maze of rubble and strange, contorted pillars. They’re impos- ing structures, with pockmarked frames that twist chaotically. I’m told of the legend that Satan landed here after being cast from heaven, but all I feel as we walk between the pillars is calmness. The next stop is the Hofði pen- insula. Creeping through its in- nocuous little entry gate, we find a wooded area fringed with flowers and a panoramic view of Myvatń. Lava formations s t i t c h e d w i t h spongy moss spi- ral out of the water into grassy craters. In the distance, a ring of mountains is bathed in golden S ept em b er s u n- shine. Padding si- lently back through the woods, once again I feel rever- ent. Strange new world We kick off the next day by relaxing in the soothing geo- thermal waters of the Myvatń Nature Baths. I forget to take out my nose rings, despite ample warning, and the sulphur in the water turns them from sil- ver to black. “You look more metal now,” says my companion. It’s a more fitting look for storming up to Krafla. You can’t get much more metal than a volcano. We peer into the rich teal depths before swinging round to Grjótagigja, a formerly popular bathing site tucked away inside a lava cave with an impressive fissure along its top. Next, we tackle a series of pseudocraters, and we enjoy mingling amongst the sheep grazing on their slopes, which are spoiled only by an un- sightly concrete walkway along one of the peaks. Our final stop is the otherworldly Mt. Námafjall, or “Hel l’s Kitchen.” Streaks of sulphur paint the ground, pots of mud bub- ble and pop, and plumes of pungent steam roll from the fumaroles. It’s yet another startling, alien landscape. I fall asleep on the way home, and when I w a ke at around 11pm, I see the telltale glow of Reykjavík ahead. Soon, we’re weaving through in- dustrial suburbs. Lights swim in front of my bleary eyes and I say a silent goodbye to the unspoilt, ex- tra-terrestrial world of the North. 52 The Reykjavík Grapevine Issue 18 — 2017 Another World The bizarre, beautiful landscapes of Lake Myvatń Words: Charley Ward Photos: Art Bicnick Hverarönd—bubbling pools of mud Dimmuborgir—volcanic caves and rock formations Grjótagjá—a lava cave with a thermal spring inside Höfði—a small forest on Lake Mývatn's shore, featuring views of strange lava pillars Distance from Reykjavík: 470 km Car provided by: gocarrental.is Accommodation provided by: fosshotel.is “Streaks of sulphur paint the ground, pots of mud bub- ble and pop, and plumes of pungent steam roll from the fu- maroles.”
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Reykjavík Grapevine

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