Our journey to Seyðisfjörður was definitely the most varied in terrain and scenery. We started our journey in the moss and grass covered lava fields of the north, but the terrain changed quickly as we made our way east. At one point, I was transported to a movie imagining of the surface of Mars, with vast stretches of red rock. It was incredibly sandy and windy with dust devils appearing on more than a few occasions, the red sand cyclones swirling just off the road as we travelled. We also spied a number of volcanic vents pouring steam out onto the surface. The entire journey was surreal.
We came close to a waterfall used in the film Prometheus, but we chose to skip the stop, as our day on the road was a long one and, well, that movie had been a disappointment anyway.
Once we reached the east of the island, we started to make a climb up a steep mountain, our destination at the bay on the bottom of the other side. The view as we hit the top and started our descent was amazing. We didn’t stop for any photos, as the road was narrow with few places to stop, but you can imagine a tiny little town on the crystal water, shining in the sun down below.
We’d arrived too early to check into our lodging, but we found easy parking in what amounted to the downtown of the tiny municipality. It’s known as a retreat for artists, so we had plenty of shops to wander through, enjoy, and spend a little money. We spied some food options for dinner. We journeyed down the rainbow road. We enjoyed a lunch snack, a beer, and a cappuccino.
Our bed and breakfast was located directly next to the water. The view was an odd balance of the beauty of the water with its rocky turn into the bay from the ocean and a messy junkyard immediately outside our door. Even the junk was interesting though; decorated abandoned vehicles and odd signs scattered across the shoreline. Our host was one of the kindest people we had met on our journey and her space was one of the coziest. Even the WiFi password was “wonderful”.
After unpacking, we attempted a journey out toward the ocean in search of a legendary “dwarf rock”. Our directions were of no help, though, and we eventually found ourselves at the end of the only road, pulling into a farm. As we turned around, a car exited the farm and pulled out. I had assumed the driver lived on the farm, but his French accent and his own apparent loss of directions told me otherwise. We both tried and failed to help each other get where we wanted to go before finally turning back.
We dined at the excellent El Grillo and, though I recall we had other plans to wander the town, we ended up staying for numerous drinks and coffee, chatting about the world and watching the ferry from Europe being loaded for the night’s departure. After definitely breaking the budget, we finally left and took a hike toward the mountain.
Seyðisfjörður was a favorite of both Kristin and mine, but we’d unfortunately only scheduled the one evening there. The next morning would bring a journey back up the mountain for our next stop.