25.10.19

We woke up at first light to discover it was nearly 9am! We had waterfalls to find!

We continued hugging the coastline of the peninsula, passing through several small fishing villages.

This unassuming beauty was in the backyard of an apartment block in Olafsvik.

Nearly, but not quite completely frozen. Stunning.

The little town of Rif is a blink and you’ll miss it place, except for this isolated little chapel, high on a hill with Snaefellsjokull glacier keeping a watchful eye over her. 

We were now in Snaefellsjokull National Park, dominated of course by Snaefellsjokull, standing at 1446m. Saxholl Crater was our first stop. The view from the top was spectacular. So is the staircase that gets you there. The stair is made of 3m long modules that hold 7 steps each joined by stingers and risers. Not sure what stingers and risers are, but they make the stairs act like a necklace, so the stairs wind their way around the circular crater walls. Ingenious! So much so, they won an international design award last year!

The road continued to wrap around the glacier, flanked on either side by lava fields and lava tubes.

Now this is the country of French writer Jules Verne, who used the glacier as the setting for his 1886 book Journey to the Centre of the Earth.

In his book, a German geologist and his son embark on an epic journey into the Snaefelles crater guided by a 16th century Icelandic text:

” Descend into the crater of Snaefelles, auspicious traveller, and you will reach the Centre of the Earth.”

We came across one of the lava tubes, now Cave Vatnshellir, and decided we should journey to the centre of the earth ourselves! Donning hard hats and torches, we disappeared through a magic doorway and descended a spiral staircase!

The bones were those of an arctic fox, the only sign of life found in the cave (apart from lichen). Our guide David, explained that caves in Iceland don’t have stalagtites and stalagmites because the water is so pure it doesn’t have the additives like lime, salt and calcium to form them. Any formations we saw were made of lava.

At one point, we all had to turn our torches off, and David sang an Icelandic song, softly and gently, in pure blackness. It sent a shiver up your spine.

You’ll be surprised to know we didn’t reach the centre of the earth, but had we managed to burrow our way through, a signpost on the surface told us which way was home.

The sunlight was quickly fading, so we only had a quick stop at Londranger to see the rock pillars said to be used as a church by the elves.

Our destination tonight was our one big splurge in Iceland. Hotel Budir.

Windswept and on a beautiful, remote part of the coastline, it was pure luxury. Thanks Jane for recommending! View from the bar.

View from our room.

Pre-dinner drinks, a yummy dinner, spa bath…….

And then there was this.

Ahhhhh…….

24.10.19

It seems a decent amount of snow fell through the night! The little village of Budardalur was covered in a blanket of white.

So was our Snorri the Suzuki!

Our relaxing jacuzzi from last night looked a bit different this morning!

We left Budardalur in relative good weather with the sun peeping over the horizon.

Then kapow! Round the corner, the snow was being driven across the road like a hurricane.

We only had 123kms to travel, but it took us 6 hours. The scenery was incredible. Every picture stop we made took an age. Before getting out of the car you had to get scarf, gloves, beanie and coat on, carefully getting out of the door holding on for grim death lest the door break off! No kidding, the wind was mighty strong! And we had been warned by Shonkey Brothers ‘hold onto the doors ‘!

We followed the north coast of the Snaefelles Peninsula, weaving in and out of inlets and around mountains. We were stunned by the waterfalls, streams and lakes already frozen in time.

Most of the road as far as Stykkisholmur was gravel road, but it was quite good and didn’t seem as icy and slippery as the bitumen.

The main town on the north side of Snaefelles is Stikkismalur. Normally a ferry port and boat tripper paradise, today it seemed desolate and abandoned. The wind was incredible!

As usual, the local church was the focal point of town. This church had a tower that was built to represent a whale bone. Makes sense!

Inside, the crucifix behind the altar was replaced with a ‘floating’ Virgin Mary and Christ.

And then around the next corner was this! Kirkufell. GOT fans note, no Whitewalkers!

The nearby waterfall was trying hard to freeze over.

Even the grass blades next to the path were frozen in acceptance of their fate.

It was SO cold! Take the gloves off, take a pic, put the gloves back on, walk a few meters, repeat!

Our destination for the night was an Airbnb at Brimilsvellir.

My goodness, so picturesque, with a little church 100m away between us and the sea.

I hesitate to use the word, but I think we’re blessed!

23.10.19

On a beautiful sunny (but still freezing) day in Reykjavik, we picked up our hire car. Let’s just say we think Nordic Car Rentals should have had ‘Shonky Brother’s’ before the word Nordic! Rather than show us any damage to the car for counterchecking prior to renting, they gave us a blank drawing and asked US to identify the damage. And there was quite a bit!

We left feeling paranoid we’d missed something! And we had…also found a cracked and chipped windscreen and passenger sun visor non existent! We tried asking for another car but were told nothing was available. Them’s the breaks I guess!

Message to self: rent a car from a known car rental company next time, not the one Driveaway recommends!

The car was a cute little two-toned 4WD suzuki, and we set off with high hopes we’d get to our destination!

The driving was easy, and before we knew it, we were heading north on Highway 1, through the 6km long Hvalfjordur Tunnel, (not as exciting as the Harecastle) towards Reykholt.

The scenery was stark and beautiful.

Reykholt is a sleepy little village that was home to one of the most important medieval chieftains and scholars, Snorri Sturlson, who was killed here. The Snorrastofa, or museum, is a homage to his life and achievements. John was excited about Snorri as he is mentioned quite a lot in the book he was reading called Sagaland, by Richard Fiedler. In fact, I’d heard a lot about Snorri from John too!

After reading all about Snorri at the museum, I sum up his life thus:

He was a womaniser, taking 5 wives although only one legally. He was good at fighting as he was chieftain of many kingdoms. He travelled a lot especially in Norway where he was a favourite of the king. The king forbade him to return to Iceland, but another would-be king told him to go. A menage-a-tois perhaps? Snorri did return and was violently murdered for his disobedience by his ex son-in-law and a few of his friends. In between all this he managed to write some poetry and translate some ancient sagas. Busy man.

Snorri was fond of his hot tub,

and went to church….not this one I’m guessing, but on the same site.

A few kms up the road, we spied our first waterfalls! Barnafoss, a thundering, roaring mass of water surging through rock arches and caves.

And Hraunfossar, a more gentle cascading waterfall along a rocky lava field that was completely frozen in places.

We were beginning to understand why it’s called Iceland!

Our destination for the night was Budardular on the Hvammsfjordur. To get there we had to traverse a mountain pass, not massive, but as we started to ascend, a snow storm hit! It was pretty scary!

The poor ponies were very brave!

Just as quickly, the snow stopped and it was brilliant sunshine once more.

And then the snow storm came back again! By the time we reached Budardular, it was winter!

Our Airbnb is very snug and has the most gorgeous view right across the road from the fjord.

As the snow continued to fall, we became a bit concerned as to whether we’d get out of here tomorrow!

There was only one thing to do. Hop in the hot tub outside our door and gaze at the stars. As it was snowing!

Pure bliss!

21.10.19-22.10.10

Saga means a story. And this is mine.

The day had finally arrived! Off to Iceland!

Extra leg room without even asking for it. I loved Icelandic airlines immediately!

It was goodbye, temporarily, to London.

First sight of Iceland from the plane was…..disappointing (AND I know I’ll regret saying that!) A barren volcanic wasteland. No trees! Didn’t I know that?

Downtown Reykavik Apartments didn’t do justice to the web photos, but had interesting features! The toaster took pride of place on the wall,

and this rather alarming notice was a bit disconcerting!

But it was clean and warm and that’s all that mattered. We set off to buy a few provisions.

This little lot cost $50! Yes, Iceland is expensive!

But enough of domestic bliss! Time to explore!

It was absolutely freezing when we ventured out.

But this was a scene I’d been wanting to see ever since we decided to come here.  It features in pretty much every tourism site on Reykjavik.

The rainbow street was first seen 17 years ago, and is now a permanent feature of the city, celebrating diversity and pride.

Oh, and this one too.

Hallsgrimskirkja, Reykjavik’s immense white Lutheran church, dominates the skyline. We hope to go up the tower tomorrow. The church’s size and design caused controversy when it was built, and in a story very similar to the Sydney Opera House, it’s architect never saw it’s completion. Supposed to symbolise a geyser erupting, the locals took a while to get used to it. Now it symbolises and dominates the city.

We started the next day with a walking tour, mainly of old Reykjavik. Our guide Thomas was a star, and kept us entertained and attentive even in the absolutely fiercest of winds. (I don’t think I’ve ever felt so cold!)

This is warm Thomas.

This is cold Judi.

Thomas kept emphasising the fact that Iceland’s isolation has made the culture unique and so different from the rest of the world. His opinion was that basically the rest of the world didn’t particularly care what happened in Iceland, and that when they decided to become independent from Denmark in 1944 (without actually telling Denmark!), the response was like, uh, really? Ok then!

From then on, Iceland did it ‘their way’.

This is the modern day parliament.

No flag flying, because, as Thomas explained, flag flying is not part of their culture!

Thomas showed us so much, told us so much. The new mixed with the old. This sculpture is called the Unknown Bureaucrat, representing all those blokes who slog away at work, unappreciated, anonymous.

This gorgeous little square, built on space which was once a cemetery, honours Skuli Magnussen who is credited with turning Reykjavik from what was virtually a village farm into a business centre, way back in 1750.

Big shoulders, big responsibilities!

This is the Prime Minister’s Lodge, note no security, no flag flying!

In fact, the only building in Reykjavik that does have security, is the American Embassy!

The stunning concert hall on the edge of the harbour is called Harpa. With it’s multi-faceted glass panels shimmering in the changing light, it looked pretty amazing!

Iceland has no issues with conserving energy. They have natural geothermal power all day, everyday. These vents prove it!

The roads in Reykjavik never ice or snow over either, as they put pipes pumping geothermal water under the road surface.

Christmas in Iceland is also different. They have 13 Santa’s, not one! For the 13 days before Christmas, kids leave out a shoe, and each of the Santa’s visit leaving a gift. The Christmas shop is open all year!

It was time to farewell Thomas and find the most famous hotdog stand in Reykjavik for a snack- Baejarins Beztu Pylsur. Famous because Bill Clinton went there and said it was the best hotdog he’d ever had. And Bill Clinton doesn’t lie does he?

It was a Marrickville Pork Roll experience!

They even had hotdog holders on the tables.

John and I agreed they were the best hotdogs we’d ever had too- crunchy onions and a secret sauce. One of us had seconds!

We’d asked Thomas to recommend a museum of choice as there were so many to choose from. We gave this one a wide berth as there were no stamps.

But the Settlement museum came up trumps with great interpretive displays about the original Reykjavikians and how they lived. The museum was underground, built around an original Longhouse.

Hallsgrimskirkja was beckoning.

A lift quickly took us to the top for a magnificent view in all directions.

It was time for us to challenge our inhibitions and get with the geothermal swimming regime. The local pool called Sundhollin was just around the corner. Strict protocols require you to thoroughly shower without your swimmers before entering the pool, in a communal shower. I for one, have never showered naked in public before, so it was quite an experience. And guess what? Nobody cared! How liberating! Took a bit of getting used to, but I loved it! So normal!

Not my pic (none allowed) and half as many people as when we were there. Lap pool, hot tubs, lounge around pool. Very nice.

A National Institution. Most people go at least once a day. Amazing!

Ribs at Brewdog completed the day perfectly. Sorry Katie!

My ‘5am Saint’ at 5.0% also did the trick. Must have also worked a treat for John because he was silly on the way home.

20.10.19

First priority = washing.

Leaving Chris and Katie’s house looking like a Chinese laundry, we set off for a bottomless Sunday brunch at Bourne and Hollingsworth.

Very trendy! Full of very gorgeous young things!

I’ve decided that bottomless Bellini’s and bottomless Bloody Mary’s are a great way to start Sundays!

And the food was pretty good too!

The whole idea of a bottomless beverage is that the glass is never empty. I soon discovered how they managed to do that!

The Ladies loo also boasted the trendiest hand basin I’ve ever seen- it was a bath!

John and I had visited the Barbican a couple of weeks ago, but it pays to go with local knowledge. Chris and Katie took us along the ‘upper’ pathway for a whole different perspective of this amazing centre.

The Conservatory on the roof of the building was something we completely missed last time.

Not a bad place for High Tea!

My favourite plant was the Hat Tree!

We wandered through the back streets of Farringdon and these were some of my fav scenes…

When I mentioned I’d like to go to Evensong at St Brides, the tribes scattered! I was on my own.

But I love that. Wandering the streets of London on my own.

As I had a bit of time to kill, I continued walking up The Strand. Australia House is still where it always was!

I remember in 1982 John and I used to go in there to read the newspapers! How ‘old school’.

I made a quick visit to the Twinnings Tea store,

before hightailing it back down Fleet St to St Brides, the ‘wedding cake’ church.

Evensong was sublime. 12 choristers sounded like 50. They only ever have 12 choir members. Turnover takes on average 3 years. Speaks for itself!

19.10.19

My goodness! Didn’t think it would be so hard to say goodbye!

Vacating Ellie (note Wallabies being flogged on the tele) and then watching her being prepped for her next adventurers was one thing.

But saying goodbye to Jen and Grahame was quite another!

What a great trip! Absolutely loved it!

It was time to return to London to prepare for the next chapter of our adventure. Slow train to London. Even stopped in Rugby, the start of the Partybanks Canal Tour de ’16. Note to self and others, take the fast train, not the cheap train!

Three hours and 17 stations later we arrived back in London!

Forward thinkers as we are, we realised we might not be as prepared for Iceland as we should be!

Sorted!

A few drinks at Chris and Katie’s local, an Indian takeaway, Netflix, and say no more!

18.10.19

Pre-dawn Hardings Wood looked pretty.

It felt weird to think we only had three locks left to work. Grahame had the honour of cranking the windlass on the lock paddle for the last time.

A group photo at our last lock was mandatory. John has his Judi hat on! Fix it Katie!

We passed the start of the Macclesfield Canal, our original holiday destination, and thanked our lucky stars it had been closed!

Stoke on Trent was a city formed in 1910 from a federation of six towns (Burslem, Fenton, Hanley, Longton, Stoke and Tunstall) but became known as the Five Towns in the novels of Arnold Bennett (I’ve only read 2, but the others are now on my list).

But to get there, the big ticket item of the day, was our passage through the Harecastle Tunnel. At 2.675km, it was a biggie! After Jen had explained our tunnel rules, including the wearing of life jackets, Bill and Ben were ready!

The ‘Tunnelkeeper’ whom we later found out was called Antony, had not taken his happy pills, and proceeded to berate us for mooring on the wrong side of the canal. He informed us that a boat was coming in the opposite direction and we’d have about a 40 minute wait! So there! In our usual friendly Aussie manner, we kept Antony chatting, and by the time the other boat appeared, we were firm friends!

Grahame and John steered us capably through the tunnel, while Jen and I sat at the bow, such an eerie feeling. As the tunnel was straight, you could see a tiny pin prick of light at the other end, but it wasn’t until the final 200m or so that it seemed to get any bigger.

Antony had warned us we might encounter a ghost, but I never expected to see this!

The tunnel conquered in a very impressive 31 minutes, we stretched our legs for some photo opportunities,

and just happened to find a cache as well!

Time for more group photos!

Well, Jen DID say silly face!

The industrial area of Stoke soon loomed, the abandoned buildings juxtaposed with more modern structures!

We made a short diversion off the canal for a pint at The White Horse pub. Very decorative loos!

The CoOp high school (yes, as in the supermarket), was just packing up for the day, with hundreds of kids streaming towards us. We marvelled at the impressive school motto and wondered if it had been a decision made by the staff after a long lunch on School Development Day?

Our last supper was enjoyed at Toby’s Carvery, back at the marina where we had started from 2 weeks ago, a smashing ‘all you can eat 4 meats roast’ for £7.99.

At the end of our journey, it was calculated that over our two week trip we had covered 257 kms and negotiated 124 locks.

PRETTY DAMN IMPRESSIVE!

But not as impressive as the Sequence winner!

Meeeeeeee!

17.10.19

Our idyllic mooring for the night provided a beautiful sunrise this morning.

But John certainly thought it was our coldest morning yet!

Our journey today wasn’t long- 4 miles in fact. Known as Heartbreak Hill by the old boatmen and with 26 locks to conquer, it would be our toughest day so far.

The canal from Wheelock to Harding’s Wood climbs steadily through the countryside via double locks.

Now normally this would be great as you get a choice of which lock to go into, and theoretically it should speed things up as you don’t have to wait for other canal traffic. This did work our way several times, but for the most part, one lock would be in disrepair like these.

No matter, the day was absolutely glorious, and we motored on through rich farmland characterised by lots of horse studs.

Lunch at the Broughton Arms in Rode Heath was very acceptable, and we could keep an eye on Ellie as we ate.

The message on the loo door probably told us more about Rode Heath than we actually needed to know!

The crew worked like a well-oiled machine and we arrived at our nights mooring with plenty of time to spare. A bit of exploring further ahead (and a spot of caching) led us to the Poole Aquaduct, where the Macclesfield Canal crosses above the Trent and Mersey. Once again, engineering genius!

John’s hope of dinner at The Red Bull wasn’t to be. In fact of the three pubs available, two were closed and the third didn’t serve food!

A ‘simple’ feast on board of ham, sardines (the real Macoy from Portugal), salad, cheese, and avocado was more than adequate and probably the healthiest meal we’d had in two weeks! No chips!

16.10.19

I woke at 7am this morning to the sound of planes coming into land at Manchester. Oh, and rain on the roof. Relentless.

Miraculously, by the time we finished brekky and were on our way, it had all but stopped (and the day turned out to be sunny and even hot)!

The first adventure of the day was the big fuel up and pump out. After 10 days of roast dinners, chips, pork pies, chips, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes and chips, a pump out was a necessity. A giant blue hose is hooked up to the boat and attached to a powerful sucker! Kevin, the attendant, was cheery, informative and helpful.

There was one minor problem. Two bathrooms but only one on the port side. Grahame bravely offered to ‘do the deed’ and practised his trapeze and balancing skills on the starboard deck! Probably the first and last time I can say my brother in law has pumped out my poo!

Jen took to the helm and navigated us back through the weedy channels to Middlewich.

With only 5 locks between Middlewich and Wheelock, the going was pretty cruisy. We enjoyed the blue skies and sunshine.

We even passed Kevin’s house, but he wasn’t home…still pumping out the poo I guess!

With nothing looking particularly appealing in Wheelock, we hiked about half an hour to the old market town of Sandbach 2kms away. It has a cobbled market place where two ancient Saxon stone crosses dating from the 9th century stand.

The 16thC church of St Mary’s with it’s unusual battlement tower was looking peaceful in the dappled sunlight and Autumn colours.

But it was our dinner destination that was truly to delight. The Old Hall was a restored former manor house with Elizabethan half-timbered architecture. It was stunning.

Well worth the hike!

15.10.19

We woke to our first misty morning today.

The Admiral and Vice Admiral conferred over maps and books, while the galley slave cooked up a storm for breakfast.

It was calculated that we had enough time to make it out to Anderton and back. The rain had stopped so we hightailed it off to Middlewich Junction, and turned left. This meant we were saying a final farewell to the Shropshire Union Canal and returning once more to the Trent and Mersey Canal. It was Grahame’s turn to negotiate the corner. Great job!

The trip down to Anderton was very pretty to begin with. The canal was characterised by lots of blind corners and a narrow channel. I was driving and found it fun and challenging.

At Broken Cross the scenery turned ugly. The Lion Salt Works and Tata Chemical Works dominated the landscape. Pretty bridges were replaced by pipes and gantries.

The Anderton lift is an engineering marvel. It’s job is to transfer boats from the canal down to the River Weaver and vice versa. Boats float into a ‘tub’ at both canal and river level and are then lifted/lowered hydraulically down to the river or up to the canal.

Our mooring for the night was picture postcard beautiful in the evening sunlight.