I could be referring to the torrential downpour I got stuck in on my way from Aldwych to St Pancras station the other day, followed by the three hours I then had to spend in transit wearing positively sopping wet clothes. Or I could be referring to the strange phenomenon of a townhouse with 3 (?!?) bathrooms which we now call home. But no. I am referring to the far more delightful, magical and positively aqueous experience that was Iceland. We are now all committed fans. We've all got water on the brain - and as my friend Cecilia Chen would say, this is not a case of hydrocephalus.
Although we did begin with the 'driest' day - our trip up through to Snaefellnes, which was entirely non-immersive. (But lots of lovely water in the distance. And a crazy trip to the top of the glacier, by accident, thinking that google maps might actually be right in trying to tell us that's where our guest house was. But as least we got to see the 'Singing Caves'.)
Day two was far waterier - from a visit to Roni Horn's Library of Water (an art installation that collects Iceland's glaciers in glass columns... but it's art, so don't ask me to describe it in a soundbite...) in Stykkisholmur, to the first of various public pools with stunningly un-monitored multi-story waterslides, with which Icelanders seem to have an obsession (unfortunately we didn't get pics of the crazy disco tunnel in Reykjavik - decending 5 stories through alternating pitch blackness, strobe effects, and rainbow pulsations... all, pretty much, unsupervised by any pool personnel. Nuts. But the kids loved it). But back to Day 2. Then it was on to Mamuks' first of may dips 'au naturel' (please do not zoom, ugh), and ended with a great surprise hike up into the mountain and a completely surprising Frodo/Middle-Earth-type hidden waterfall (inaugurated by a sheep chase. Funny.)
The next day was water, water, everywhere... We took the ferry across to the Westfjords, and began our time there in an amazing beachside natural hot springs, built apparently decades ago by the workers who built the roads. (Everyone needs a good bath at the end of a long, hard day!). Then it was a white-knuckle drive for several hundred kilometers to the 'end of the world' - the Western most tip of Europe, the Latrabjerg cliffs. It is a famous puffin nesting site, but alas,we were out of season... It was a bit rainy and admittedly, not the happiest hike.... But the day ended on a great note, once we found our lovely hostel in Bildudalur... we unloaded then quickly went in search of a local hotsprings - natural, yet contained in concrete pools of varying temperatures.
The next day we drove around a few fjords (you can see our village, Bildudalur, across the way in the first pic below, and the second is Mudzuks in one of the ubiquitous fields of 'trouble with trolls' flowers - fans of Jan Brett's children's books will get the reference) to get to Dyjandi, a really impressive waterfall... A great hike up, with continuously awesome sites to absorb.
Then on the way back from Dyjandi, we stopped at yet another hot spring - this one a much larger concrete pool (too deep to touch with heads above water in the deep end), plus a small natural pool about 20 metres away ... but that one was really hot, and we all only braved it for a few minutes (Dzuk excepted - we didn't need boiled baby for dinner). The kids loved the big pool - lots of cannonballing and 'proper swimming'... That evening, it was back to teh Taknafjordur springs, via a stop at the beach - Mamuks' only Icelandic venture into the salty sea water... refreshing, to say the least!
The next morning we headed back across on the ferry, first fitting in a bit of hiking along a pretty incredible gorge, and then stopping for another dip in our initial fjordside spa (beginning to detect a pattern to this trip??)
Then it was aboard the ferry, and then all the way down to Reykjavik. We did a bit of (surprise!) swimming at the local outdoor aquatic complex (home of the abovementioned disco strobe waterslide), and a bit of urban wandering. Most impressive was the new Harpa concert hall - the outside designed by Danish artist Olafur Eliasson. Completely stunning. But Reykjavik also has a healthy dose of the other pole of arty stuff - like random yarn-bombing.
After a night in Reykjavik we headed down to the Blue Lagoon (oh so touristy, but there is no way you can pass it up - a steamy milky aqua inland sea... the kids were upset because they had to wear water wings, but as the lifeguards say - if they go under, there is no way we could ever see where they are...) Completely elemental.
And we rounded out the trip with one night's stay at the 1x6 guesthouse in Keflavik- an otherwise unremarkable town, but this place was incredible - all the furniture and fixtures were designed and built by our host, Daniel, from reclaimed timber. As he put it, why on earth would Icelanders 'throw away' wood when almost every single scrap they use has to be imported? It was a perfect ending - decadent, but exactly in tune with our style...
And of course, the backyard had a hotspring!
Inspecting the neighbourhood (this is, literally, five minutes behind our house, along a public footpath that leads to O & O's house):
Inspecting the telecommunications network (see above re: plumbing and the British idea of "mod cons." I'm kidding. This is an old fashioned box down our street. Everyone is on their mobiles, of course.)
And for certain, a walk in Sherwood Forest, complete with archery lesson:
