It was a pretty good day for whale-watching! We continue to rise while it is dark, then drive to Grundarfjörður. A morning without precipitation, though you know we had all the rain gear we brought on for the wind and spray protection.
We managed to get to Láki Tours to suit up with a few minutes to spare and, what do you know, they had their own "gumby" suits for us to get into. They were waterproof with an internal warm layer. We were nearly the last people on the boat, so we hung out on the stern while the other thirty or so people were spread around the boat, but concentrated in the front (where they all got sprayed). We launched with an announcement about emergency procedures (all in English) then a warning that they hadn't been out in a few days, but they didn't see anything New Year's Eve.
We set off from shore, through the fjord where it was located. Kirkjufell is a very picturesque, cone-shaped mountain just west of the town, and it guarded our exit.
As we rounded the corner to head east (a solid 30 minutes into the trip), we moved into the sun. As per the whole trip, it was low and in the south, so we played with pictures of it with the mountains and the ocean.
As we approached the first of two fjords that they sail in to check for orcas feeding on the herring that winter there, the tour guide told us to be on the lookout for seabirds gathering over the herring ball that gets created by the whales. I yelled at a few gulls to try to convince them to find a pod for us, but they ignored me. The sea eagle was our big find in that fjord.
It was perhaps 90 minutes into what we thought might have been a two hour trip (spoiler: it was not) when we continued down the second fjord. They served us very rich hot chocolate, and I went back for a second serving before going under for a nap. We had been standing and watching the water for a long time, so we decided to let someone else do the watching. (Also, getting to bed at 2am after hot-tubbing added to the afternoon drowsy.)
I woke up after maybe twenty minutes and felt every wave in the pit of my stomach and back of my throat. That second cup of hot chocolate was coming back to bite me! I shed a few layers (really, just took my arms out of the suit and tied it around my waist) as I moved back to the back of the boat with its cold air and cold metal to lean against.
The nausea was subsiding as they announced that we'd be swinging close to an island on our way back into our home fjord to look at the gulls and potentially seals!
We had three marine mammal sightings as a trio of grey seals with their puppy dog faces bobbed in and out of the water by a plateau of an island. Apparently during the summer, this is where the puffins hang out to tend to their nests then babies.
We got back to shore after 3pm, shed the suit, got our tickets validated (no whales = free trip anytime in the future!), and headed west into the peninsula. Well, after eating the lunches we'd packed. I made a little too much egg salad this morning, so Mark's and my sandwiches were overflowing. Instead of risking his pants, he danced while eating in the slight chill outside the car.
It was time to explore! I had no sooner told the crew that they should holler whenever they wanted to pull over when the interlocking pound sign that signifies a scenic area popped up. It was a waterfall! We took the turn and came upon Kirkjufellsfoss - the waterfall that matched the mountain. A signboard told us that a woman lost her two sons here to the water as they were trying to fish, so she put a spell on the falls so no people or fish would die there.
Alisa and I risked our shoes to jump onto the rock bar in the stream coming out of the falls to get a different view, but no one was swept away.
Some other tourists were competing to see who could skip a rock across the ice farthest without it falling into the water. We never got our own chance to play, but it is a good amusement.
Next on the official list was Rauðfeldsgjá, a ravine where, in Bárðar's saga, some guy with red hair was pushed into it and died - hence "Red-Fur Canyon." We had found some pretty turn-offs beforehand, as well as a bunch of Icelandic horses! The cut-through from the north side of the peninsula to the south side was foggy and wet, but it cleared up by the time we got to the parking for the ravine.
After a few hours on a boat, it was nice to get out and stretch. The rift was pretty skinny, and we didn't have a great view from the kilometer or so away we were, so Rachel and I started hiking up. The snow had crusted over, so we couldn't create our own tracks along the sloping bank; we were forced to pick between the unknown slipperiness of the icy snow or the potentially deep footprints of yesterday's hikers.
We picked our way up, and Mark made it up for a group picture. The ravine itself was fine - not something I'd necessarily stop for again this time of year, but you could wade up the stream in the summer. We channeled our "inner puffin" to take little steps and stay in control all the way down the hill.
It was getting pretty dusky as we arrived back to the cars. There is a national park on the very end of the peninsula with two towns just before it. We drove past Arnistapi, a small fishing village, then attempted to find a well-rated coffee shop in neighboring Hellnar. We ended up on a dirt road (yay, 4WD), but the tiny building was shuttered up. We passed up on the one building that looked open since there were a handful of restaurants to the north that were closer to the hostel we wanted to end up.
The Snaefellsnes Peninsula was where the intrepid explorers in Jules Verne's novel journeyed to the center of the world, so the Freezer Hostel was putting on a show depicting it at 8pm. However, it was 5pm, dark, and cold, and none of the restaurants were open. So we abandoned that plan and headed back to Stykkishólmur and our hot tub and AirBnB. We made a late dinner of rice, chicken, and a yummy Thai sauce then jumped in the hot tub with more boxed wine.
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