Reykjavík Grapevine - apr. 2021, Side 30

Over the past two months, Iceland’s
been shakin’ like the Stevens due to
the crazy amount of seismic activity
going down on the Reykjanes penin-
sula. Finally, in mid-March, the sur-
face cracked, giving way to an all-new
volcano: Geldingadalsgos. It’s a special
eruption; not just because it may go on
for years, but because of how relatively
accessible it is to normies like myself.
So why not join me on a guided tour
of the latest addition to Iceland’s fine
collection of volcanoes?
Only a hop, skip and a big
ass hill away
Upon arrival at the trailhead, it was
hard to ignore the sheer number of
cars clogging the road. Automobiles
of all shapes and sizes lined the road
for what seems like miles, all parked
precariously on the edge of the tarmac.
You’d think one big gust of wind would
tip them all over, but it seemed safe
enough, so we joined the conga line
and began our ascent to the site.
The weather was glorious and
the scenery even better. A thin layer
of snow covered the landscape like a
cozy old blanket, and dark black rocks
protruded through the bright white,
making the surroundings look simul-
taneously soft and rugged. The path
itself was relatively well-made—bar
the odd rock protruding through the
mud, waiting to break some unfortu-
nate soul’s ankle—and carved right
next to a large snowy mountain, which
loomed over everyone as they trudged
along, as if nature was watching our
every step. After about a mile or so, the
first challenge awaited: a steep, rocky
hill climb.
A scramble to the top
The path cut straight up the hill, with
loose rocks everywhere waiting to
shift underneath one’s weight. It felt
far safer to go up on all fours, but that
came with the caveat of looking like
a right tit. People were slipping left,
right and centre as they made their way
up the mountain side, but some kind
porter had left behind a handy nylon
rope for the less confident volcano-
goer to grasp as they made their way
up and down. We salute you, whoever
put it there!
The view from the top was breath-
taking. Literally. Absolutely knackered
from climbing my way to the top, I sat
and let it all sink in. The sun was beam-
ing down, reflecting brightly off the
snow. The surroundings looked as if
they had been plucked from Game of
Thrones or even Death Stranding, a
video game heavily inspired by Icelan-
dic landscapes. After a short break, we
pushed on along the path before being
greeted by the phenomenal sight of the
volcano.
Mount Doom, without the
orcs
That first glimpse of the volcano will
stick in my mind forever. It’s pictur-
esque; walking through a small valley
with the large black volcano sitting
ominously in the distance. The lava
spewing out of its top comes into view
upon approach, like a guiding light
beckoning you to come closer.
After a short walk through the val-
ley, I emerged to get my first proper
look at the eruption site in all its glory
and, oh boy, is it glorious. Two cra-
ters continuously erupt, throwing out
magma into the surrounding area. As
stupid as it sounds, I had no idea how
bright the lava would be; it glows like a
neon light as it flows out of the craters
and it's hard not to be taken back by
the sight of it. One certainly gets an
overwhelming feeling of awe watching
the lava. No matter how long I looked I
remained impressed.
Circling further around the volca-
no netted a view of the lava field that
surrounds the peak of the eruption.
Looking over the matte black hardened
magma created a surreal blurry view
of the landscape behind the volcano.
The lava slowly seeps through the rock,
creating what look like cracks into hell.
Smoke slowly rose from the area and
as the sky turned dark, the air became
filled with a deep orange hue that made
me feel like I had stepped into Mor-
dor. All that was missing was Sauron’s
menacing gaze.
Death to drones
The slopes surrounding the volcano
were packed with other people enjoy-
ing the site. There were people with
picnics, taking selfies and plenty were
flying drones over the action; I couldn’t
help but wish to see a drone drop out
of the sky and for some poor bugger to
cry in despair. Am I cruel for wanting
that? Probably.
The skies weren’t just filled with
drones, but planes and helicopters
circling ahead which annoyingly
drowned out the noise of the volcano.
After waiting long enough, the pesky
flying machines departed and we were
left with the sound of the eruption it-
self; a constant cracking and crashing
of lava hitting the rocks beneath it.
Music to my ears.
As darkness came, I was reluctant
to leave and I envied all those who
had brought tents to stay the night.
However, it was pretty darn cold at
that point—despite the fact that I was
standing just 100 or so metres from
molten lava. As I turned to leave, I
took one last look and drank it all in.
There’s really nothing quite like seeing
a volcano, and I implore anyone who
has the chance to visit to take a trip to
Geldingadalur.
I’m sure you’ll absolutely lava it.
Travel distance
from Reykjavík:
40 km
One Does Simply Walk To
Geldin!adalur
Thin!s are heatin! up at the volcano site and we’re absolutely lavin! it
Words: Owen Tyrie Photos: Art Bicnick
Travel
Unfortunately, Sméagol was unavailable as a guide that day CAST IT INTO THE FIRE! DESTROY IT!
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“The air became filled
with a deep orange
hue that made me feel
like I had stepped into
Mordor. All that was
missing was Sauron’s
eerie gaze.”