Reykjavík Grapevine - 01.05.2018, Blaðsíða 15

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the shortest trail, it quickly be-
comes apparent that we won’t
get very far—the whole area is
snowed in, with the yellow trail
markers gradually vanishing
into near-vertical banks and
deep wind-sculpted snow drifts.
We scramble up as far as
a rocky outcrop that looks out
towards Nesjavallavirkjun. The
power station runs all-but si-
lently, emitting billowing col-
umns of geothermal steam that
catch the orange evening sun-
beams, casting dancing shadows
over the white plains below.
The high life
As the sun sets, the temperature
drops to energy-sapping levels,
so we return to the hotel, strid-
ing through the powdery, thigh-
deep snow. Ion is billed as luxu-
ry accommodation, and it more
than lives up to the description.
The bedrooms are crisply deco-
rated and comfortable, coming
equipped with tasteful artwork,
king-sized beds, internet-con-
nected f lat-screen TVs, and
views over the surrounding
mountains.
At the far end of the hotel is
a high panorama bar with floor-
to-ceiling windows, minimalist
decor, and a tempting cocktail
menu. As we take a seat and
warm up, a snowstorm sweeps
in across the valley, the weather
quickly blotting out the pink-
hued landscape. Shielded from
the howling winds, we look on
in silent wonder—it’s like a ring-
side seat to watch the fierce ele-
ments at work.
The storm, it seems, is also
staying the night, so we head
to the hotel’s cosy restaurant to
try the set three-course dinner
menu. A bowl of creamy seafood
soup is followed by a succulent
lamb shank with sunchokes and
puréed vegetables. Full to burst-
ing after the generous main and
a milk ice cream dessert, I retire
to my room. With the sound of
the storm in the background, I
sink into the plush mattress and
a deep, dreamless sleep.
Frozen courtyard
By morning, the storm has
pa ssed, le av i n g t he hot el
semi-buried in a blanket of fresh
snow. We decide to try out the
hotel’s spa. Ingeniously located
in a courtyard under the pillared
section of the building, the out-
door hot pot is sheltered from the
wind. The water ripples in the
breeze, sending an inviting cloud
of steam into the sub-zero air.
The water in the long rectan-
gular pool comes from the power
station, and so naturally chang-
es in temperature from time to
time. It’s just deep enough for
a little swimming if there’s no-
body else around. As we bathe
and paddle, a brisk wind whips
dusty snow across the water, and
after a while I realise my hair has
developed frosty icicles, but a few
steps away there’s a coal-fired
sauna that quickly melts them.
Icy beaches
Fully rested and completely re-
laxed, we reluctantly check out.
The lakeside route has become
slippery with wet snow from
the storm, so we decide to take
the safer southern road back to
Reykjavík. After coasting care-
fully around the iced-over lake of
Úlfljótsvatn, we cruise through
Selfoss towards the south coast,
skirting past small villages and
icy black beaches, turning to-
wards Reykjavík via the Krýsu-
vík route.
The sunset begins just as
we reach a dramatic viewpoint
overlooking the eerily still lake
of Kleifarvatn. We linger a while
wandering around the zig-zag-
ging walkway at the Seltún geo-
thermal hot spot, taking in the
otherworldly scenery and feeling
fully replenished by this dreamy
countryside getaway.
“A snowstorm sweeps in
across the valley, the
weather quickly blotting out
the pink-hued landscape.”