Fast Forward: Day Three

Dear Reader,

I have not forgotten (nor am I afraid to admit publicly) what went down between the hours of 10pm and 4 am on our second night in Reykjavik. But an adventure of such monumental proportions deserves undeniable photographic evidence of its awesomeness. I was so caught up in the awesome that I forgot to get out the camera. Thank goodness for Phech! Another set of photos is on the way. So until then...

After denying our typical geriatric state of being (I love to fall asleep at about 10 every night) getting to bed at 4am on Monday morning, we decided the best idea would be to get up early for a little drive...to the other side of the country.

Hasta la vista Reykjavik!
I have no idea how to say "see you later" in Icelandic, and it would probably take so many letters that I would run out of bit space on my blog. So Spanglish it is!

Our first stop was Skogafoss, a 62m high waterfall with a walking path behind it!

That's Barrett in the blue jacket.

As if waterfalls weren't beautiful enough to begin with, the constant sunshine created rainbows at every foss we visited. That's a word in Icelandic I can say. Hooray for multicultural me!

Next stop was halfway down the Southern coast in Vic. A place known for it's black sand beaches.

These three gigantic rock formations are called sea stacks. The local legend is that they were three trolls who were caught by the sun while pulling their boat ashore. And as everyone...yes, everyone...knows, sunlight turns trolls to stone. It's true. Read The Hobbit.

Just outside of Vic is Dyrholaey, a great place to find puffins and take in the view. We managed to find puffin, as in one singular bird. Apparently puffin mating season had just ended so all the little momma puffins were in their cliff side burrows sitting on their eggs.
Good for the eggs.
Lame for the tourists.
I mean what kind of bird digs a hole in a rock and hides! Really puffins? Really!

But all was not lost. The view was incredible. I especially enjoyed photographing the rock bridge and splashing water as the ocean pounded up the shore.

Looking below the rock bridge.

We drove on to what was possibly one of the most beautiful places I've seen in my life, Jokulsarlon (that name should include an umlaut and two accent marks, but you get the idea). Here icebergs calve from Breithamerkurjokull (right?...that's one name, and I substituted our letters for their funny d-flag letter and left out the umlaut) part of the Vatnajokull glacier (I swear the crazy names never stopped). I might not be able to pronounce any of this, but seeing these giant icebergs slowly floating out to sea was beyond words anyway.

As the sun reached its lowest point, the sky blazed pink casting purple shadows over the already surreally blue ice and water. Barrett found a small glacier of his own, and quickly learned an important scientific principle...

Ice is very cold on bare hands!

Remember that dear reader.

Staying warm,
Megan