There are two geysers in Geysir. The largest used to spout 60 meters semi-regularly. The ‘semi’ part of regularly caused locals to toss rocks into the pit to encourage spouting. Eventually, the rocks clogged the mechanism and the geyser stopped. According to the guidebook, however, for official occasions the government coaxes an eruption by flooding the pit with, eh, soap.

The smaller geyser erupts about every 10 minutes generating a spout of about 30 meters.

Steam vents, frequently observed along the road, are in abundance at the geyser park where the air is also filled with the pungent aroma of sulphur. It is very impressive when the geyser explodes.

Although it was a long day, we didn’t have to worry about driving back in the dark. They don’t ‘do’ dark in Iceland in June.

The next day we decided to go whale-watching. The weather appeared to be beautiful. The skies were blue with little puffy white clouds. It was, however, a tad windy. Having reviewed the guide book, I was excited as we ate breakfast.

“Iceland waters are home to Minke Whales..”

“I know, Dad. That’s what I had for dinner last night.”

“Darius!” Nazy said. “How could you?”

“They’re not endangered, Mom. It’s not..”

“Minke Whales, Darius.” I continued. “And Killer Whales, Fin Whales, Beluga Whales and Sperm Whales. The only whales we saw in South Africa were Right Whales. This is going to be great!”

The shuttle bus driver was less sanguine as he addressed us on the way to the boat.

“The ocean is extremely choppy today,” he said. “You should take the seasickness pills before we leave. And, if you are queasy about the voyage, you can get a refund and forgo the trip.”

Looking back, it is clear that this was a warning. But Darius and I were bold and courageous. (And clueless.) Nazy at least asked if they had suitable rain gear. When told that there was a limited supply, we rushed to the front of the line to grab the bright yellow rain slickers. We failed to notice the sign directing us elsewhere for the red, waterproof, warm, parka-like body suits. The Artic Ocean flooded over the bow of the boat as we plunged toward the open sea. A stiff north wind (50 kph) blew salt spray everywhere. Note: ‘Spray’ insufficiently characterizes the intensity and power of the deluge that pounded our bodies as we huddled on the open deck.

Unfortunately, the whales, having assessed the weather situation, were smarter than us. They did not appear. The guide claimed to see a Minke Whale 150 yards away, but the only thing I saw was a seagull and five passengers throwing up. Other tourists had lashed themselves to the seats or were cowering in the corner. Darius, unfazed, spent the trip drinking hot chocolate while he tried his Icelandic on the guide – who was from the Czech Republic.

Failing to see Minke, Killer, Fin or Sperm whales, the boat plowed ahead to “Puffin Island” where some people, armed with powerful binoculars spotted a puffin.

Morning events led to a joint decision to “take it easy” during the afternoon. Nazy’s definition of “easy” is “shopping”. We marvelled at the exorbitant prices of everything. Lemons, for example, were 499 Kronur (about $6) each. In fact, the guide book had an entire page of explanation about “Why everything costs so much.” Nazy, on a mission, was, of course, undaunted.

After rejuvenation, we went to the Blue Lagoon, a hot-water mineral pool. Subterranean water pumped from deep underground, powers a nearby power plant and, after being cooled, is circulated into the pool. The water contains vast quantities of silica and a noticeable dash of sulphur. It was refreshing and very good for the skin. It was also very warm – especially after the icy ocean morning.

As we were leaving the Lagoon, located in the middle of a vast field of congealed lava, Darius backed the car into a hidden rock – breaking the tail light.


“I’m glad I got the insurance,” Darius said. “I didn’t want it, but the agent insisted. In fact, he said he’d tear up the form if we returned the car without damage. Now he won’t have to do that.”

We chose an elegant seafood restaurant and, aware of exorbitant prices for wine, we brought our own bottle.Handing it to the waitress (who was from Estonia) I asked about the “uncorking fee”.She returned after a quick chat with her manager.

“It will be 4000 Kronur,” she said, sheepishly.

“What!” I said, loudly.“That’s more than $50.”

We decided upon a few decilitres of house wine. Later, back at the hotel we mentioned the event to the clerk.

“4000 Kronur to uncork the wine? That’s absurd. She must have thought that you were going to drink it there.”

“Well, yes,” I thought.

Continue Reading here