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The Iceland Epic – Day 8 (Reykjavik – Akureyri – Myvatn)

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Wandering Justin gets all black metal at Dimmuborgir.

Can a cloud of flies lift a person off the ground? I am about to find out on the south shore of Myvatn (Mee-VAH-ten).

That name, by the way, means business. Vatn is Icelandic for “water.” What’s “my?” Midge. As in those pesky flies that are threatening to carry me off. They’re everywhere. This means we are in a place that means “Fly Water.” Myvatn is a shallow lake ringed by some spectacular scenery: more pseudocraters, and one of the most bizarre mountains ever. More on that later.

As for the flies, some folks at a convenience store sold Sarah and me a lovely matched set of insect nets for our heads and faces. Problem abated. Somewhat.

Suzuki Jimney

Our rented Suzuki Jimney

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Flight to Iceland’s Northern Big City

To get here, we started with an early Flug Island (or Air Iceland, the domestic arm of IcelandAir) flight from Reykjavik’s domestic airport. We walked from our guesthouse right to the terminal. Our fellow passengers were mostly English, and they were dressed from some horse-riding fun.

We landed in Akureyri, the main city of northern Iceland. We rented a Suzuki Jimny and rattled off to the west. We had some epic mountain scenery, and we enjoyed a brief stop at a waterfall. We made another brief stop to get our anti-fly nets – and had a nice lunch of soup and trout that had been smoked over sheep dung. Regardless of the fuel source, it was delicious.

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One of Iceland's many waterfalls.

We followed that up with a 45-minute hike around the pseudocraters.

And then for a major centerpiece of my Iceland experience: We headed for Dimmuborgir.

But before we got near Dimmuborgir, I noticed something strange: One single mountain that seemed illuminated. It was an overcast day, and it was like one single ray of sunshine penetrated the clouds and fixed on this mountain. This is the Hverir thermal area. It stands out from all the surrounding terrain. We plan to make a thorough visit tomorrow.

This is also the name of well-known black metal band, and it means “Dark Castle.” This region gets this name from the massive expanse of hardened lava that froze in all sorts of interesting shapes. It sprawls for quite a distance. There are massive spires, tiny lava tubes, holes … it’s too unearthly to really describe well. It’s stark and scorched, and completely engrossing.

Hverfjall: As Cool as it Sounds

If you’re up for a long hike, you can follow a trail and climb to the top of Hverfjall explosion crater. Sarah and I circled the base, climbed from the (easier) northern trail, fully circled the rim, and descended the south trail before heading back to Dimmuborgir. Total distance is a little more than 6 miles.

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Part of the pseudocrater field near Myvatn

Relaxation, Trout and Stout

By this point, we were a little peckish. We’d heard about the Cowshed Cafe, so we stopped. It’s a working dairy in addition to a restaurant. You can eat while watching cows get milked.

As we were eating more trout, a salad and some fresh geysir bread, one of the cafe staff made the rounds to all the tables to pass out little cups. They were filled with fresh, unpasteurized milk straight out of the teat of the cow getting milked.

Warm, creamy, frothy … but not as heavy as I expected. A clean finish!

Our next step was a little relaxation at the town pool (we were in Reykjahliđ). Despite this being a town of 300, the pool facilities are superior to what you’ll find in my city of some 1.4 million people. Hot tubs, weight rooms, lap lanes … nice!

From there, we headed to the Vogar campgrounds. We put our tent up on the northern shore of Myvatn. Here on the north side, the midges are considerably less active. Once we had the tent up, we wandered the main street a bit and met some of the local horses.

Hverfjall Iceland

Looking toward the huge crater of Hverfjall

We also wrapped up the day’s gustation with a nice chocolate cake and a shared bottle of Lava. This is an imperial-style stout brewed in the south of Iceland. It was the only good beer we found in Iceland, and it was the equal of just about any microbrew from the United States. I’d say it is on par with the Oskar Blues Ten Fiddy of Longmont, Colo.

Snoozing by Myvatn

After all this buzzing around, we were pretty tired. Though the sun only peaked below the horizon for a few hours and the sky never fully darkened, we got a great night of sleep on the soft grass of the Vogar.

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Lava formations at Dimmuborgir.

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Atop Hverfjall

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Looking south to Dimmuborgir

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Looking toward Myvatn.

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Our tent is right on the shore of Myvatn at Vogar campground.

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