The morning dawned clear and bright, at just after 2.30am, and was pretty much the same when we were up at around 7.30am. The view from the room in the Milk Factory in Höfn was one of the best.
After breakfast we left Höfn and turned back onto the ring road sign-posted in the direction of Egilssatadir. Ahead of us was the mountain Vestrahorn, and just before a tunnel that bore through the side of the mountain I pulled over to take in the impressive view.
Rather than continue through the tunnel we turned off the road heading to the peninsula of Stokknes. The gravel track wound around the coast line and gave wonderful views of at least five glaciers coming down the valleys from the Vatnajokull National Park.
The road led to a Cafe where you can buy permits to drive further around the peninsula, but we opted against this and headed back to the Ring Road, however before joining the main road I stopped again to take in the colours in the scree falling down the side of the mountains.
Passing through the tunnel the road wound through a wide open valley with views back towards Brunnhorn.
The road continues past green farm land pastures backed by high peaks dappled green and black in the morning sunshine. Leaving the mountains behind the road passes the Hvalnes nature reserve, a lagoon created by a long black spit that stretches to the Hvalnes peninsula.
This is apparently a good spot to get mirrored photographs of the mountains, but today the wind had picked up, and was whipping up waves on the lagoon. Also on the lagoon were hundreds of Whooper Swans. This is a collection of immature birds yet to be old enough to breed. Today they were sheltered on the far shore and out of sight of all but binoculars, but on a small pool were several Scaup, several paired up, but with a group of drakes.
And here a pair.
They were uncomfortable with me trying to get closer and flew off to the main lagoon, leaving me to concentrate on a couple of Turnstone feeding on the edge of the pool.
From Hvalnes the road continues along the coast with steep sided scree slopes on the left hand side and a steep drop down to the sea and beach. Looking ahead the coast line was one of rocky outcrops, crashing waves and distant snow capped mountains.
Gradually the mountains were obscured by cloud that could only be snow showers. Outside the temperature was falling the car said around three degrees, and a very strong north easterly was picking up making that temperature even lower.
Looking out to sea Helen picked up small groups of Black Guillemot bobbing on the waves.
A little further along and on a grass covered land slip Helen picked up two Reindeer. It was difficult to stop but I managed to find somewhere to pull over. The views were distant but it was good to find at least a pair.
Reindeer are not native to Iceland. Like all other land
mammals reindeer were brought to Iceland by humans (the only native land mammal
in Iceland is the Arctic Fox). The reindeer were brought in
the 18th century, following a royal decree. The king and his advisors
believed reindeer would thrive in Icelandic conditions. Icelandic farmers would
then be taught reindeer herding.
Four different groups of reindeer were brought to Iceland in
the 1770s and 1780s. One group was released in Vestmannaeyjar
archipelago off the south coast of Iceland, another in Reykjanes peninsula in
the southwest, a third in Eyjafjörður fjord in North Iceland and a
fourth group in Vopnafjörður fjord the Eastfjords.
While some of the reindeer managed to survive the
transplantation from Finmark in Norway to Iceland, attempts to introduce
reindeer farming were a complete failure. All the animals in the group in
Vestmannaeyjar died within a few years, while the groups in Reykjanes and Eyjafjörður survived until
the early 20th century. The only flock which has survived until this
day are the animals who were released in Vopnafjörður. While that is still a long way from here, one can only assume these originated from this group.
A little further along the road drops down to the beach, and just off shore were more Black Guillemots just offshore enabling a little closer views.
We eventually arrived at what could best be described as a small fishing village, the village of Djupivogur. This is one of the oldest ports in Iceland, it being created in 16th century when German merchants bought goods to trade. Today, while still having fishing it also is home to many different artists, with the old fish factory now an art museum.
We parked at the petrol station come supermarket where a small church stood out.
Down at the harbour it wasn't a hive of activity, but in the cold wind people went about tending their boats in what looked like T-shirts
From Djupivogur, the ring road meanders around Berufjordur, a long, steep sided fjord. The south western shore is dominated by the mountain Bulandstindur. At the head of the fjord there is a turn know as the Oxipass, the GPS was directing us this way, but warning signs put me off and continued on the ring road towards the settlement of Berunes.
Coming out on to the coast again the road skirts around Osfjall mountain and along more black sand beaches. We then reached another junction. Here turning right takes you along the ring road route one. This was only recently renamed route one, having previously been the alternative route 96. This road winds along the fjords between Breiodalsvik and Egilsstadir, slightly long, in winter this is the only option. Turning left takes the old ring road, now named route 95. This travels west through the Breiodalur valleythen ascends steeply over Breiodalsheidi Heath, before dropping and continuing north to Egilsstadir. We opted for the latter, turned left into the valley.
After a short distance the road changed from sealed to gravel, but with incredible views on both sides of the heath.
As we reached the head of the valley we could see the steep ascent ahead.
And after winding up crazy tight hair pins we reached the top. Looking back down the valley you get a sense of the wide expanse of this incredible glacial formed "U" shaped valley. By the side of the road yet another stream tumbles over the rocks heading eventually down to the sea.
At the top, a small pool feeding the streams that fell over the rocks.
The road then starts to fall, dropping down, but not as steeply as the ascent on the other side. In the distance small pockets of snow in the creases of the lava field
The gravel road winds down, meeting the Oxipass about halfway down. It then picks up the fast flowing river Geltdalsa which eventually opens out into a lake. Along the shore were Dunlin, Ringed Plover and Black-tailed Godwits, while out in the middle of the lake were large groups of Long-tailed Ducks, with others flying in.
The river continues down hill alongs ide the road until we reached our destination Egilsstadir. As unloaded our stuff from the car to check in it was snowing slightly, this was the coldest we had been so far.
The hotel sat on Lagafljot, the large lake that dominates the area. We had a view from our hotel room, and I could see Long-tailed Ducks and Scaup close in, so after settling in, I set out to see hat else was about. Leaving the hotel a Redwing was singing in the birch trees.
I made my way down to the shore with the company of a Border Collie that was herding a small group of sheep. I though he knew what he was doing until he ended the stalk by chasing the sheep. The lake is partially obscured from the hotel window, and that part I couldn't see was covered with Long-tailed Ducks. But as I walked down the slope Golden Plover called and scattered in front of me, then one popped up behind the grass.
Looking superb in their summer, breeding plumage.
I walked around to a headland that brought me a little closer to the duck with shelter of the boat house.
Out on the water I caught up with the Long-tailed Ducks, although at first they were not up to much.
There were though a few birds moving around, a pair of wigeon circled the area, and several Long-tailed ducks flew in.
Found on saltwater in the winter, but in the summer they arrive on the Arctic tundra pools.
Adults have white underparts, though the rest of the plumage goes
through a complex moulting process with three moults in a year. The male has a
long pointed tail (10 to 15 cm long) and a dark grey bill crossed
by a pink band. In winter, the male has a dark cheek patch on a
mainly white head and neck, a dark breast and mostly white body. In summer, the
male is dark on the head, neck and back with a white cheek patch, and beautiful
russet brown scapulars..
I noticed a small group closer to the shore on the other side of the bay and made my way around. As I got closer the heads went up.
And they started to drift away from me.
Now on the grass bank there were more Golden Plover about. While wary they did allow me to get close enough for acceptable photographs.
Here you can see the golden yellow spots on the brown background that produces the "golden" colour, contrasting with the black neck, throat breast and belly.
A family party of Raven were performing acrobatics over the trees and out over the water. Ravens are fabled to have played an important part in the settlement of the country when the Viking Hrafna-Flóki (Ravens-Flóki) sent his birds to find land. Six birds in total I was only able to get shots of this individual.
It had started snowing again as I sat watching the lake and the groups of duck. Scaup were now moving around rather than sleeping.
From my position I had a good view of the bay and the hotel. You can see the trees out in front of the hotel, obscuring the view for some unknown reason.
With the snow falling I headed back to the hotel, it was hard to believe that we were at the end of May. Tomorrow we headed across the highlands on North Iceland. The forecast was not brilliant, probably the to be the worst day of the week, but then we didn't come to Iceland for the weather.
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