Wow and I mean Wow!

So, though we rose early after a restless night dealing with Mitcham garden shed issues, it was a little wasted as the car rental company did not pick us up till 9am. You forget how tiresome the travel arrangements can be. No big issues, it just takes time and you are always arguing about something.....yes I am sure we ordered an automatic, see the word automatic on the voucher.........yes I am sure I do not want mud stain insurance......then trying to find somewhere to sell us bread and lunchy stuff. apparently many Icelandic supermarkets do not open on Sundays, public holiday, before midday or after 3pm. But we finally found one and got out of Reykjavik before sunset.

It was not long before we were driving between the sea and the mountains and it looked pretty good. Our driving was also not too bad, given we had not done the right side drive for a while. A bit nervy, especially when we nearly went into a tunnel we wanted to avoid....more about route than tunnel terror.

We arrived at our fist hike, the Glymur waterfall, just before midday after a spectacular drive up Hvalfjörðu (Hval Fjord). The walk was about 6-7km return and about 245m elevation, seemed more given our training regime.

We took the easier path as we did not fancy a log river crossing, and rope pulls up the steep east bank. The walk was up a rocky path that just kept going up through highland grassy hills, with sheep and wildflowers to keep us company. Marjan struggled a bit and it as looked like I might not make it to our anniversary.

Eventually we got to a lovely highland plateau, and a spot to check out the falls. Apparently these were (until recently deposed) the highest falls in Iceland. Not bad.

At a cairn by the viewing spot we met a young Canadian, Eric, who was very chatty. It seemed to make Marjan cheer up, listening to him chat away about everything and anything. A young man (about 18 I gather) travelling alone for the first time on his college break. He was hiking around Iceland on a shoestring and had camped up above the falls overnight.

We wound our way down a different path, closer to the ravine. It was steeper and a little hairy in parts, necessitating a few bum slides. Still, safety over dignity any day. All the way down we listened to Eric, or responded to his questions, as he strolled down with a backpack, a towel over his head
(never travel without a towel) to dry, and a guitar.....yes whilst we bum slid! How embarrassment!

We invited Eric to share our car for a bit, and shouted him lunch by the fjord.....just some  rolls, our normal lunch routine on these jaunts. We finally dropped Eric off at the next town, Borgarnes, where he was trying to sort out his bank card, which had been stopped. He was surviving on some money he made busking in Reykjavik.

The country just became more spectacular. Every mile could have been a stop....a beautiful scree slope to a volcanic mountain top.....a fast flowing river....... a field of sheep or Iclandic horses.......an icy pinnacle in the distance....and always getting closer to our destination Snæfellsjökull, which:
-  was making its own weather; and
- is pronounced snagglepuss, according to my reliable Icelandic language guru.
We did not stop as often as we would have liked, due to the lack of available places to stop in many places, the verges dropped away alarmingly, and because we were running behind schedule.

We got into the little settlement of Hellnar with enough time for a walk down to the beach to see the birds....mostly kittywakes....a largish, gull second cousin.........before dinner called. We paid the cruel but fair prices.......the alternative was to drive for 2 hours to find a bread shop that would have closed four hours ago.......no, we paid.......and enjoyed the very nice and very expensive food.

I went out after dinner and took some latish shots....and then a shot through our bedroom windows at about 9:30. It is now 10:30 and not much different.