If every country has a cologne, then Iceland would not win any prices. The sniff of the sea is present a lot just as the smell of rainy grass, which is amazing surely. But then, every now and then, popping up behind unexpected corners, this huge stench of sulfur fills the air. Whether it comes through your car ventilation or hits you mid-walk, the stench is undeniable. That has to do with the geothermal pools all over the island so, at least it is kind of acceptable once one knows it was not a fart. But it most definitely smells like rotten eggs being thrown at you, which doesn’t really suit the prettiness of the island, it is kind of like a pretty angel farting in your face. It just not what you expected or hoped yet, it is also one of the charming surprises of the Iceland. Besides, I cannot exactly hate on it because I was spoiled enough to treat myself to ‘’a day at the smelly spa’’ – supported by sulfur. We have probably all heard of the majestic blue lagoon? Those beautiful blue waters that are naturally warm and rest in the middle of nature? Well, I went to a less popular version to prevent crowds, Myvatn lagoon. The second I got in line with my ticket, a bit concerned that I had to be in a line and at the same time realizing I did not need a private pool, the sensation of expired eggs being thrown at me was overwhelming. I have not eaten a single egg since Iceland, and I have been back for a month already, that is how bad the eggxperience was. Not of the pool, of the smell alone. The baths were absolutely gorgeous. Once you get trough the slightly awkward line of half-naked people waiting for their obligated showers, you enter the chilly outdoor area with a beautiful view on a yellow looking mountain beneath a soft blue sky and sheepy clouds.
The waters below them are a kind of blue I can promise, you haven’t seen before without having suffered the smell. It is milky blue, toxic, chemical blue, yet all natural. You can not see your hand the second you sink it below surface, as the blue is so thick, it is almost silver blue. And the temperature is just surprisingly perfect, 40 degrees with a very nice soft touch to it as the water feels silky. It feels like its just immediately cleansing your body. I was now facing the dilemma of wanting my phone with me for some pictures and wanting to float away into offline infinity. They both won, I ended up finding a beautiful spot in the corner of the pool, leaning on the pointy rocks with my upper body (I could not risk my hair being dipped into egg) and enjoying the warmth of the water. It was an absolute unique and relaxing experience. Yet, after about 2 hours, I knew I wanted to continue, because there was more sulfur stuff waiting for me. Feeling kind of clean and kind of smelly, I drove my car to an interesting, attention peeking spot on the horizon, thick, white smoke rising up behind the mountain. It was only a short drive between the pointy grey, rocky mountains and their strange yellow green mush blankets, to see a surface I had not yet discovered on the island. It looked a bit like a moon landscape, grey, rocky, and filled with holes. But the closer I got the more I saw that it was nothing like the moon, unless the moon had been splashed upon with paint. The surface was covered with strange grey and orange spots, literally as if a massive, dripping paint brush had been going over it.
But even stranger was the many clouds of thick white smoke escaping the crater alike holes in the wide, stretched area, that was surrounded by high, red-brown mountains. they did not have this colour before, how did Iceland change its colours and shapes so quickly? The second I approached the surprisingly full parking lot, I realized this was a popular hotspot, yet not one that appeared during my daily extensive research that I performed every evening, to ensure id find the prettiest part of the island. I will spoil you with the name, as it is not exactly a vulnerable nor hidden area anyways: Namafjall. The second surprise that might not be that surprising after all, was another smack of sulfur in your face. This geothermical area which also goes by the name Hverir, is filled with smoking holes of boiling, thick, grey mud. The acid in the area prevents vegetation from growing and creates the unique colours. It is very strange and humbling to get a sneek-peek beneath the surface of mother earth, and see these monstrous boiling grey mud pools breaking trough strange orange surfaces. For as long as I could handle the smell I stuck around, and then for the first time it was strange big chimneys drawing my attention. the island Iceland is not exactly known for manmade beauty, or any manmade stuff whatsoever, so these strange industrial buildings definitely drew attention. They weren’t pretty at all, they created the same thick grey smoke as the muddy craters and the absolute same smell, yet they were fascinating, intimidating. It is in fact a powerplant, once that caused many concerns because of the high amount of energy it creates. After a few minutes I felt I had seen enough, so besides for the beautiful deep blue crater lake in the middle of all the iron mess, I didn’t feel much for sticking around in the white smog, and decided to head elsewhere.
I currently found myself at North East Iceland but I will skip to a few days later when I found myself in West Iceland, the Keflavik area, just to add a fitting chapter of the Iceland story to this sulphur blog: the famous Fagradalsfjal (the names are like poetry to me; beautiful mysteries). It erupted on August 3 and obviously, I was hopeful to catch a glimpse of lava. Purposely I did not research myself to the current conditions and I had no idea what to expect, so only upon arrival I would out about the conditions: too hazardous to hike, glowing hot orange lava, a bunch of grey dried lava rocks, nobody knew. Or probably almost everybody, but not me. The first extraordinary volcano view I noticed, was that below an unusual thick grey sky, a landscape full of mush surrounded me. The mush was very thick, up to 20 centimetres so I read, and basically turned the area into a beautiful greygreen pillow that you just wanted to bounce around in from one mush pillow to another. It had a strange greygreen colour as if the lava ashes in the area couldn’t allow it to be purely green, but it was beautiful. Possibly slightly toxicated, but beautiful. And the beauty of nature is that it always restores itself, the ashes here for example are the creators of black beaches, strange mountain shapes, craters, deeply hidden canyon rivers, but also for the bouncy mush fields. It was very fertile, but it clearly polluted the air above the mushy bouncing castle. Once I parked the car at was supposed to be the start of the hiking point to the mountain, I noticed the strong smell of asphalt, burned rubber almost, or whatever one would normally smell in a fabrique.
I had to climb up a steep grey mountain that had a strange black shade over it, and I wondered if it was ash or maybe even more, how old this ash was. This wasn’t the first time the Fagradalsfjal erupted and Iceland was basically known for its volcanic pieces of art. The climb was short but incredibly steep, so that on top I was already out of breath and saw several signs pointing in several directions. The one pointing forward spelled some Icelandic mystery but turned out to be the lava field. No orange boiling lava, no extremely hazardous conditions (?) but still a one of kind, once in a lifetime spectacle. It was as if a massive wave of grey thick rocks had been pushed of the mountain, but not just by avalanche, it was clear that heat was the cause. The rocks seemed as if they all had melted and then dried to the air again. Yet in that process of melting a giant had been poking holes in it and trying to rip the rocks apart, that is how they looked. Most had beautifully emerged into the ocean of grey rocks, creating a massive moonalike surface of thick, dark grey rocks with very satisfyingly beautiful smooth shapes. White plumbs of smokes came out of the holes, and it was clear to see this wasn’t here before. the mountains around tried to be green but kind of failed at that and looked more grey, but had sweet shapes like steep hills. The smell was hard to cope with, as it was as if breathing in a burned world. And for a second I realized that an eruption big enough could create this field of darkness, yet in a century or so it would be another beautiful, unreal field of green mush, and that made me very happy.
- It's an amazing life
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