* * Day 12 in the Land Where The Glaciers Meet the Ocean (almost!)

It's day twelve here in the Land Where the Glaciers Meet the Ocean (almost!).

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Today we officially rounded the corner and began our journey "home". After circling the island of Iceland from the SW corner to the NW, N, and NE, today we headed south and then east, back towards Reykjavik where we began.. 

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We left our guest house in Seydisfjordur and drove into the village, looking at the tiny harbor and two restaurants. We turned the corner to head back up the fabulous road we'd come over the prior day and we saw an androgynous hitchhiker standing beside the road. We stopped and picked up Jan, a 47 year old stewardess from Thailand. We drove with her for the next several hours. We don't normally pick up hitchhikers, but it seemed like the thing to do at the time and she was great having along. We told her that Jane and I had spent so much time together we needed somebody new to talk to! 

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Her job as a stewardess for Thai Airlines had taken her all over the world during her 20 years with them. They give her two free tickets per year to anywhere in the world they went. She never married and lives near Bangkok with her mother, sister, brother, and their families, so she enjoyed getting away. "Otherwise, I'd just be sitting around the house," she said, in excellent English.

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We drove due south on the west side of the coastal mountains that separated the East Fjords from the rest of the island, then turned east to the coast, crossing over the ridge on a spectacular, snow-covered ridge on a gravel road. We saw a small herd of reindeer resting on a patch of snow, which Jen spotted first.

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The East Fjords are generally not as grand or steep as the West Fjords, but still scenic and wild. In most places, there is a coastal plain at least a kilometer wide separating the slopes from the shore, but in one area in particular there was a huge, wicked-steep, gravel-like slope the road traveresed. We had a nice picnic (outside of the car!) alongside one of the fjords in the bright sun, with banks of fog around us. 

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There was lots of wildlife everywhere, including swans, ducks, and shore birds. There were many prosperous looking farms with sheep grazing everywhere, both inside the pasture fences and outside, scurrying across the road. My horn is a comical bleat, but the sheep seem to react to it, a good thing because the CRV's brakes are so badly warped.

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We dropped Jen off in the town of Hofn, exchanging hugs with her, our newest friend.

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Our major tourist activity of the day was the Jokulsarlon Glacier Lagoon, which was just off the highway. This lagoon sits at the base of the nation's largest glacier field and is filled with icebergs that have calved from it. The glacier is Vatnajokull, and it occupies fully 10% of the entire nation. Tongues of glaciers spill from it towards the sea, but not quite to the sea, all along the southeastern coast. 

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We bought tickets on a combination truck/boat that drives to the edge of the water and then right into it. We motored around many icebergs, large and small, white, black, and blue, in what the guide told us was an ever-changing environment. Because the water was so clear, we could get a sense of the huge amount of ice under the surface as compared with the ice showing above. Icebergs are constantly flipping themselves over as the above-surface ice melts, making it lighter and allowing the underwater ice to rise, thus upsetting the prior balance. The true, unexposed ice is crystal-clear and hard as a rock. Our guide broke some off with a ice chip hammer and gave us small chunks to eat. Delicious!

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On the access road to the attraction, I drove over what appeared to be a wool stocking hat. So I stopped and went back and picked it up, a nice, new, wool cap. My dumpster-diving ways have benefits!

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The sky had turned heavy and anvil-dark by this time. We drove another half-hour and stopped at a tiny 6-room hotel Jane had booked. I went for a walk in the neighborhood, a tiny village snug against the cliffy mountain slope, with an expanse of flat farmland stretching to the south towards the delta of the Skeidararsandur, one of the many drainages of the Vatnajokull. The wind was cold, whipping off the slope of the mountain from the great glacier and under dark, brooding skies it felt bitter, indeed. The wind was strong enough to upset my balance whenever I stopped walking. There was a tiny church in the village with a sod roof with ornate hinges and lock, although it wasn't locked. It was simply decorated with padded-seat, wooden pews. There was an old pump organ and a preacher's pulpit. 

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At our hotel, there was neither a restaurant nor a kitchen, but we boiled noodles for dinner on a hot-pot. Just like camping. 

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An attractive couple from Belgium arrived and we chatted for awhile before they went out in search of something to eat. 

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We Skyped Whitney and caught up with things back in Virginia. We live in an amazingly grand technological world!

Day 12It's day twelve here in the Land Where the Glaciers Meet the Ocean (almost!).Today we officially rounded p grazing everywhere, both inside the pasture fences and outside, scurrying across the road. My horn is a comical bleat, but the sheep seem to react to it, a good thing because the CRV's brakes are so badly warped..We dropped Jen off in the town of Hofn, exchanging hugs with her, our newest friend..Our major tourist activity of the day was the Jokulsarlon Glacier Lagoon, which was just off the highway. This lagoon sits at the base of the nation's largest glacier field and is filled with icebergs that have calved from it. The glacier is Vatnajokull, and it occupies fully 10% of the entire nation. Tongues of glaciers spill from it towards the sea, but not quite to the sea, all along the southeastern coast. .We bought tickets on a combination truck/boat that drives to the edge of the water and then right into it. We motored around many icebergs, large and small, white, black, and blue, in what the guide told us was an ever-changing environment. Because the water was so clear, we could get a sense of the huge amount of ice under the surface as compared with the ice showing above. Icebergs are constantly flipping themselves over as the above-surface ice melts, making it lighter and allowing the underwater ice to rise, thus upsetting the prior balance. The true, unexposed ice is crystal-clear and hard as a rock. Our guide broke some off with a ice chip hammer and gave us small chunks to eat. Delicious!.On the access road to the attraction, I drove over what appeared to be a wool stocking hat. So I stopped and went back and picked it up, a nice, new, wool cap. My dumpster-diving ways have benefits!.The sky had turned heavy by this time. We drove another half-hour and stopped at a tiny 6-room hotel Jane had booked. I went for a walk in the neighborhood, a tiny village snug against the cliffy mountain slope, with an expanse of flat farmland stretching to the south towards the delta of the Skeidararsandur, one of the many drainages of the Vatnajokull. The wind was cold, whipping off the slope of the mountain from the great glacier and under dark, brooding skies it felt bitter, indeed. The wind was strong enough to upset my balance whenever I stopped walking. There was a tiny church in the village with a sod roof with ornate hinges and lock, although it wasn't locked. It was simply decorated with padded-seat, wooden pews. There was an old pump organ and a preacher's pulpit. .At our hotel, there was neither a restaurant nor a kitchen, but we boiled noodles for dinner on a hot-pot. Just like camping. . An attractive couple from Belgium arrived and we chatted for awhile before they went out in search of something to eat. .We Skyped Whitney and caught up with things back in Virginia. We live in an amazingly grand technological world!