The Golden Circle: Day 2

The Golden Circle is an area of Iceland that is full of some of the best geological features Iceland has to offer.

Driving out of Reykjavik immediately sent us into those mountains that had been calling us - the entire drive was snow-covered mountains and endless horizons. Every place that had a safe pull-over, we stopped. Sometimes to take photos; other times, just to sit in the silence.

Þingvellir (Thingvellir) National Park was our first target of the day. This park is full of geological and historical significance. It is perhaps best known for being in a rift valley that marks the division between the Eurasian and North American tectonic plates. You can literally see two continents at once! Iceland is, in fact, breaking apart, at the rate of 2cm per year. It was fascinating to stand there, at the edge of this great rift, and imagine what it would be like hundreds and thousands of years from now... two islands instead of one, and a great ocean in between them.

Þingvellir is also the site of Iceland's first parliament in the year 930, and we got to see the "law rock" as well as the remnants of one of the "booth" shelters that the lawmakers used to stay in when they assembled.

After exploring the area a little more, we got back on the road and made a stop at a point that was supposed to be where you could hop from the Eurasian plate to the North American one. After walking down a short trail to the area, we could see both plates, but declined to walk in or on them, as we could see the sensitive lichens and mosses had already suffered too much from the footsteps of overly-curious tourists who had ignored the "no walking" signs, so we simply looked, took photos, and made our way back to the van.

Our transportation - and our home for the next 2 weeks

The next stop was Geysir. We had seen a geyser before, in New Zealand, but this is The Great Geysir. It was the very first one to be documented in print, and the first one known to modern Europeans. We walked past the familiar bubbling pools and steaming vents in the ground, amazed by the number of them in this small area. We made our way over to where a ring of people was gathered around Geysir, which erupts quite frequently (every 5-7 minutes). We stood with the others and waited a few minutes as it steamed and the wind blew the mist in all directions. I looked away for a brief second, but then heard the sound of water erupting and quickly looked back – the geyser had erupted! It was a short-lived burst of water high up into the sky, and then nothing – back to simple mist again.

Since it erupted so frequently, we stayed back and watched it go up again several more times. It never ceased to completely startle me, and I'm fairly certain I gasped in wonder each time the water spurted upwards, without any warning whatsoever. After wandering around a bit more and looking at the other bubbling and steaming pools, we came back to Geysir for one last one, but stood on the closer side of it this time. From here, we could watch the center of it a little more closely and see that there were indeed subtle warnings, like more bubbles appearing, and the water overflowing slightly over a round ridge in the center. But still, I wasn't prepared for the bright blue to spill over within a split second and the water to shoot up so high in the sky – right above us! We could feel the warmth in the air, and then all the little droplets of water and steam looked like they were going to come down on us. I took several steps back, but quickly realized that the boiling hot water evaporated just before it reached me down on the ground. There are some crazy things in nature, and I'm pretty sure that for me, boiling hot water exploding out of the ground at semi-predictable intervals is up on high on that list.

We reluctantly walked back to the van and headed to our next target – Gullfoss Falls. These impressive set of waterfalls rival the power of Niagara, and are incredible to be close to. We were able to view them from many different angles, and spent some time walking around all the various viewing platforms. My favourite place to watch the crashing power of that water was at the second lowest level (the lowest was closed), where a near-perfect rainbow is almost always waiting above the falls. Even though Gullfoss is quite impressive, I almost enjoyed the smaller, but equally as impressive Faxafoss, further along the Golden Circle. This lesser-known falls attracts much less tourist attention, and I liked being able to take it in with relative peace and quiet, and away from all the crowds of Gullfoss.

Gullfoss

It was a busy day for us, and we continued the gorgeous drive down to Kerið Crater for a hike around the whole rim, and then a walk down the crater to the lake. This beautifully preserved crater has fantastic colours during the summer months. Today it was frozen, but still faintly blue through the ice, stark, wild, and beautiful. Well worth the visit, even in winter.

Kerid Crater

Finally it was time to decide where we would camp for the night. The options in Iceland are much more limited than what we had in New Zealand (especially during winter), but they are spaced out enough that you can always find a place to stay. We decided to head to the campground near Sejalandsfoss, another very impressive waterfall. After finding the location and paying our camp fees for the night, we chose a spot right in view of the waterfall, and then went on a short hike down the road to have a look. I looked at the sun; it was setting, the colours already starting to faintly paint the sky.

I was on a mission – to get behind the falls for sunset. Jen and I made our way quickly down the road, and up the path to the falls. There were staircases on either side, that led to trails behind the falls, so we chose one and made our way up. As we approached, the spray of the falls was overwhelming. I quickly pulled my glasses off as I could no longer see through the mist, and grabbed carefully onto the railings and slippery rocks as we made our way closer to the path behind the falls.

Jen went ahead, and I stepped carefully afterwards, observing where she stepped and taking a lot of time to step in places that looked secure. I was on a mission, yes – but I wanted to make it there, and not tumble down into Sejalandsfoss! The sound of the pounding water was all I could hear, and the cold mist on my face, on my hands, soaking through my hat, were all I could feel. I caught up with Jen. It was perfect timing – the sun was just sinking into the horizon, a brilliant golden ball surrounded by purple and red. The sheet of water pounded down in front of the opening, and even though we were behind it, the mist was everywhere and we were quickly soaked.

Nevermind that we had rain covers for our backpacks that were carefully tucked away; rain pants that we had purchased just for this purpose, still back in the van; and mist covers for our cameras to protect them from the elements that were nowhere to be found. We took a few photos and then quickly tucked the cameras in the relative safety of my backpack, and then just stood there and took it all in.

The wildness of it all really hit home at that moment. “How many people can say they've watched the sunset from behind a waterfall?!” I asked Jen, raising my voice above the crashing sound of the water. We grinned at each other, mist in our hair, damp clothes despite our jackets.

This. This is what it's all about, these moments. This is why I'm still here, still alive, still fighting for every dream not yet had. These moments stick forever in the soul, giving meaning to everything else that seems meaningless, giving strength in those empty days when one feels they have lost their strength. This, the purple and red sky viewed from behind that curtain of water, drenched in cold mist; this exhilarating moment, I'll always have with me.