Reykjavík Grapevine - okt. 2020, Blaðsíða 31

Just 45 kilometres from the capital, be-
yond an otherworldly lava field land-
scape and up and down a mountain,
lies the small town of Hverager!i.
Often clouded—both in mystery and
steam—the countryside destiation of-
fers a plethora of interesting pandem-
ic-safe possibilities.
The quintessential
Icelandic town
After a week of working from home,
a trip—even just a small day trip out
of the house and into the fresh air—
sounded very good to a pair of Reyk-
javík Grapevine interns. The legends
of the hot ground beneath Hverager!i
only served to intrigue us further.
Whispers of hot springs, home grown
bananas and basement saunas cap-
tured our minds, luring us to the little
town that could so easily be overlooked
on the road to the more high-profile
Gullfoss or Geysir.
If you were to ask any foreigner
what they imagined Iceland to look
like, chances are that they would de-
scribe a town very similar to Hver-
ager!i. Small, quaint houses of bright-
ly painted wood and corrugated iron
sit nestled between steaming pipes
and hotpots, taking full advantage
of the geothermal environment. Al-
though, to our disappointment, it
turned out that the houses don’t have
saunas in their basements. In fact,
they don’t have basements at all be-
cause the ground is simply too hot.
The idyllic river Varmá runs through
the town, with waterfalls providing
peaceful picnic spots. All in all, Hver-
ager!i is the quintessential Icelandic
village.
Sitting on a hotbed
Hverager!i’s surrounding area lies
over the volcano Hengill—hence the
high level of geothermal activity. All
over town, steam rises up through
cracks in the ground or boils up into
large pipes and pumps.
And the locals sure know how to
harness that resource. One of Hver-
ager!i’s highlights is its abundance
of geothermally-heated greenhouses,
where exotic plants flourish despite
the harsh Icelandic climate. Even ba-
nanas thrive in the Hverager!i green-
houses. In fact, Hverager!i is the
world’s northernmost producer of the
fruit.
The ground also allows for some
culinary creativity. By simply burying
your lunch for a few hours, you’ll be
rewarded with a hot meal. There is,
of course, also the option of visiting
one of the local establishments that
pride themselves on their geothermal
cuisine. Sadly, when we arrived, the
quiet little town was not expecting
visitors—a not unexpected downside
of the pandemic—and most places
were shut. In the name of safety, we
would find food elsewhere.
Intrepid Interns
Along with its geothermal prowess,
Hverager!i is also a well-known hik-
ing destination. Most famous is a
steep, slightly challenging 40-minute
hike to the Reykjadalur Thermal River.
Here, wonder at Djúpagilsfoss water-
fall, take in the breathtaking beauty
of the Reykjadalur valley and don your
swimming trunks for a soak in the
hot river. Although the river can get
busy—particularly in the summer—
it’s long and fairly easy to find a se-
cluded spot in.
That said, we decided we weren’t
feeling particularly intrepid on the
day of our visit, so we skipped the
full Reykjadalur hike and instead me-
andered through the less-steep sur-
rounding trails. Before starting off,
we headed to the local Bónus to grab
some food. For some reason, we were
craving eggs... and some stockings.
Witches around a cauldron
Our hike reminded us we were alive
and mobile, even after so many days
spent at home. From the outskirts of
town, the views go on for kilometres
across unspoiled and ancient lava
fields. The red clay lends the land-
scape an almost alien atmosphere—
how one would imagine the surface
of Mars to look. Barren but majestic,
Iceland’s landscapes really are like
no other. We could have stopped and
stared for hours.
But then it was time to eat. We
grabbed our six-pack of eggs and two
pairs of nylon stockings, desperate to
fulfill our dream of naturally boiling
eggs in the earth. But where to find a
good boiling station? To our dismay,
the geothermal park—which offers
a special egg-boiling hot pool—was
closed on the day of our trip, so we
opted to look on our hike for a natu-
ral, off-the-beaten-track hot puddle to
serve our needs.
And yet, like the ever eluding fata
morgana of the desert, no matter how
close we came to a steam column, it
would always turn out to remain un-
reachable, cooped in by either a fence
or pipes or pumps.
So, we hiked for a while longer and
after examining the area for about two
hours, we finally found a suitable place
just outside of town. The grey, steam-
ing, bubbling sludge in a hole was the
perfect place to prepare our snack.
Gently loading our new stockings up
with eggs, we crouched, like witches
around a cauldron and tentatively low-
ered them into the hotpot. It’s sweaty
work, cooking eggs like this, but we
embraced the heat, figuring that the
steam would definitely be beneficial
for our skin, despite the condensation
clinging to our eyelashes and woolly
hats.
After about ten minutes we re-
moved the eggs, cooled them down
in the river and began cracking them
open. Having no idea what to expect—
we’re journalists, not chefs—we were
surprised to find that the eggs were
still very soft boiled. Slowly taking our
first bites, we couldn’t decide if it was
the sulphuric nature of the water or
the fact that we’d worked hard to earn
our food, but we agreed that these
eggs were particularly delicious. All
they needed was a pinch of salt and
toast for dipping and these Hverager!i
delights would have made an eggcel-
lent meal.
Travel distance
from Reykjavík:
45 km
Bubble, Bubble, Toil,
Trouble And E!!s
The dream of steam is alive and well in Hvera!er"i
Words: Catherine Magnúsdóttir & Jess Distill Photos: Art Bicnick
Travel
Street food: Hverager"i style
Making our own bloody eggs!
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31The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 08— 2020