We got more coffee and hot chocolate in us, and the sun came up a little more, so we were ready to brave the outdoors for our day in the Golden Circle.
The Golden Circle is typically a day trip from Reykjavik that has to include Þingvellir National Park to see þingvallavatn (the lake Silfra empties into) and Silfra (the rift we dove in), as well as potentially another rift or lake. We were on the opposite side of the circle, and five of us had already seen the national park, so I put that as an optional end to our day - if the weather would cooperate for us.
We started at the furthest site away - Sulfoss. This multi-level waterfall was situated down in a canyon from where the ice-covered parking lot and gift shop was. We ducked in the gift shop for a minute to gird ourselves for the walk.
The wind was blowing at our backs to the lookout point above the falls. Informational panels talk about how this private land was trying to be bought by a hydroelectric company, but the owning farmer said he "would not sell a friend." We had heard from our taxi driver that all the natural locations are privately held, but there's a law that you cannot charge admission. The gift shop sales were essentially subsidizing them, in this case.
The waterfalls thundered over the wind (barely). The amount of people was much different than we saw on Snaefellsnes - here, there were a dozen tour buses of various sizes and easily fifty cars, versus the relative emptiness (a car or two here or there) on Snaefellsnes.
We joined the crowds in walking down the few flights of stairs to the lower viewing area. From there you could see trails leading much closer to the falls that, with the light dusting of snow, were not wise to try.
We played with our cameras, helped other groups out with their shots, and had the last of our warmth sapped before climbing back up (add some warmth there) and strolling around the gift shop (all the warmth recharged there).
We had passed the Geysir area on this, the farthest edge of the Golden Circle, so headed back to the third necessary stop on the tour. The geothermal area had a few different geysers: Geysir, the one that all other geysers are named for, only goes off a few times a year. Luckily, Strokkur Geysir had a thirty-foot blast every five to seven minutes. Since we saw it go off as we approached the area, of course it was a full eight minutes of us with our phones out, recording nothing until it had two shorter bursts for us.
We meandered up see Geysir's pool, as well as a few other named geysers, with their steaming water, sulfur smell, and color-tinged banks. We were at one overlooking Strokkur when we got to see another eruption. At that point, the hail started. It switched to snow after pelting us in the face for the first half of the walk to the gift shop, and then coated us for the final hundred feet across the road and into shelter.
It was white-out conditions as we paused to regain feeling in our limbs and find bathrooms. We had run out of lunch supplies that morning, so only had half sandwiches in the car, but I had heard of a great lunch spot that was twenty minutes down the road. Twenty minutes if you could see the road.
We pow-wowed, and since the restaurant was on our way home anyway, we'd play it by ear for driving conditions. We had to leave Geysir sometime, and the forecast said snow for the rest of the afternoon.
We pulled out of the parking lot. There's a saying in Iceland (at least on t-shirts) that says if you don't like the weather, wait five minutes. We weren't a kilometer down the road when all visibility was restored and not a drop was falling from the sky.
Taking advantage of this, I stopped at a waterfall called Faxi that was on the way. A slippery boardwalk led twenty feet down a slope to a clearer view of a wide drop, with what looked like a fish ladder on one side. We skated up and down the wood in the calm weather, then finished up the final ten minute journey to Friðheimar Farm.
I've seen geysers before (though half the group hadn't); I've seen waterfalls all over the world. I've never seen a building radiating light into a slightly snowy sky with such force, and then open and smell so like... tomatoes!
Friðheimar is a family-run farm with greenhouses full of tomatoes. They produce a literal ton of tomatoes every day, and are responsible for 18% of the tomatoes consumed in Iceland. (I was a little shocked it wasn't more, but I never said I was good at market sizing questions.) Hives of bees are imported from the Netherlands, and live out their 6-8 week lives there. The family opens for just four hours every day to welcome guests in for endless soup and bread, a handful of other tomato-based dishes, and the best Bloody Mary's in Europe.
I don't prefer Bloody Mary's, but that mix was superb. Mark and I went with a soup and a "tortilla" to be different. On the table were basil plants, and we were brought other doctoring ingredients for the soup buffet - sour cream, pickled cucumber salad, salt, pepper. The tortilla was a mini pizza, with lots of cheese and then more Parmesan on the side. There were easily ten types of bread, including cheese, olive, and caraway.
Mark and I had three bowls between the two of us (and the pizza), and then I was further challenged by their green tomato and apple pie-in-a-flower-pot with an additional pot of cream. Kamila tried the cheesecake with a green tomato jam on top. All of it was so, so good. Comments of "this should be a required stop on a Golden Circle tour" and "I never want to leave" floated around our table of tourists clutching their bellies.
The swirling snow hadn't let up, but the sun was clearly decreasing, so we paid for the cheapest meal of our trip (soups were just $24, an Icelandic bargain) and tried to squeeze in one more outdoor activity.
We headed to Kerið Crater, since the last on we had passed was in the dark the night before, so we saw nothing. The wind was still biting, but no precipitation as we pulled up. We paid 900ISK (about $8) to get in (I know - I though there were no entrance fees in Iceland either) and Mark set off around the rim, with the rest of us to follow.
The path had a sprinkling of snow, but the volcanic rocks were pretty grippy and we didn't have any issues, though the wind was scaring me away from the edge. It was very circular, with the ridge opposite slightly above were the path entered. A few other mounds further along blocked the wind enough for a group picture on a mini-tripod, but the hail pellets started again and deterred us from the steps down to the frozen lake in the middle.
The final idea for the day (since the sun was too low, and the weather was too sketchy for the twenty minute drive to Þingvellir) was to try the Secret Lagoon, a hot springs that was fed naturally from the geothermal pools surrounding it, but cool enough for humans. We vacillated a bit, but decided to risk it and head right there.
The bath house was modern, kind of typical of a nice outdoor public pool, and we got our first glimpse of the Olympic-ish-sized pool from the reception's giant glass wall that faced it. We went back into the changing rooms after paying the $24 entrance fee. The sign explicitly said to shower without your suit before entering the pool to keep it as clean and natural as possible, so we stripped down, averted our eyes, did a ten-second scrub, and hopped into our suits.
We all gasped as we speed-walked the twenty feet to the pool. The men's locker room was ten feet closer, so half the biting wind before settling in to the rocky-bottomed pool. It was four feet deep in the middle, with gravelly lava rocks on the bottom (and an occasional larger one). It was surrounded by a trio of geysers, and one erupted a few feet twice during our two-hour stay.
Some intrepid explorers checked out the edge close to the geyser, but it was so hot that Mark and Rachel had to turn around. The Secret Lagoon was not immune to the five minute changes in weather, but getting snowed on was fun, as long as one's shoulders were under the steaming water. It was being pelted with hail where we all faced downwind to avoid the nasty hail to the eye.
It was great for the sore muscles from horseback riding the day before, and Mark and I exchanged back massages by the far wall as we talked about OTC drugs (Alisa's favorite topic), tattoos (one of Kamila's favorites), and other chitchat.
Getting out, there was a slight chalky quality on my skin after drying - not unpleasant, just unusual. I grabbed some of the body wash and called it my shower for the next few days (there's not a lot of incentive to have wet hair and the many layers prevented the others from complaining) before changing back into a few of the layers from the day.
The serene walk outside, with a super high core temperature and a slightly snowfall, was so pleasant. The cool air was refreshing, and the half hour home was simple. I put a pot of red bean soup on to simmer, and started plotting out the next day's activities (and the previous days' expenses). We got to bed with full bellies a little before midnight for a 8:30am departure. There's more sagas to learn about!
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