Return to Iceland
Emerging from seclusion . . .
What is the first thing you want to do as you emerge from a year- long hibernation during the pandemic? Fully vaccinated, like many others, my first adventure was to get my hair cut. It was not as exciting or fulfilling as I’d imagined it would be during the year that I spent dreaming about going into a salon to have my hair professionally shampooed, colored, and cut.
My second adventure however is much bolder: my husband and I leave for Iceland on Monday.
We will stay five days on the Reykjanes Peninsula. and plan to hike in to see the Fagradalsfjall eruption if we are lucky enough that it is still active and still relatively accessible by foot.
I’ve had a long love affair with Icelandic volcanoes (read more on this page). My most recent trip was in 2014. When I heard there was an eruption happening in the north in August 2014—a fissure from the Bardarbunga volcano—I contacted my Icelandic friend and former photo tour guide, Einar, and asked for his help. He told me to rent a car when I landed and to drive west and north towards Lake Myvatn, to stop for lunch at a certain place in a town that began with a B. At that restaurant I was to meet Ragnar Sigurdsson (arctic-images) who would be returning from a night photographing the eruption. I drove for four hours and started to think, did I miss the turn off? Did I get confused about the name? But right about then I came to the town, turned off Road #1 and found the restaurant. As I was parking the car, Ragnar pulled in right beside me. He was with one of the founders of DJI, a drone manufacturer, who had succeeded in capturing the very first drone footage of an active volcanic eruption (and melted the drone and the camera in the process!) I drooled over their stories while they ate their lunch. But the area was banned for access, the only way to see it was to hire a helicopter, and the helicopter company doing the flying was returning to Reykjavik in the south the next day. I asked Ragnar to call him and ask if he would wait a day to take me up. All was arranged, and I was simply to continuing driving another four hours north, past Lake Myvatn, turn towards a town with a name beginning with M, and check in to a small hotel where the pilot was staying and there was a room reserved for me. I headed on my way. Mind you, I’d flown in on an overnight transatlantic flight from Boston, already driven four hours, and now had four or more to go. Night had fallen when I passed Lake Myvatn and began looking for the turnoff from the one road that encircles Iceland. I couldn’t remember the name. Icelandic place names aren’t easy to pronounce or imbed in my memory. I didn’t pass any cars or gas stations. Eventually, I found the turn, followed the road to the one building with lights, and was welcomed into the small hotel and introduced to the pilot.
Meg in September 2014 with helicopter pilot from volcanoheli.is
I was expecting it to be expensive but when the pilot told me the price, it was definitely more than I could afford. He suggested I find two other tourists (preferably non-photographers) to go with me and share the cost. Exhausted, knowing no one, I simply said I’d see him in morning. I trusted that with a good night’s sleep, the path forward would be clear in the morning. After all, my volcanic instincts had led me unerringly here, and so far everything had worked out. When I woke up and went for breakfast, a lovely German couple introduced themselves to me, “We are going to share your helicopter flight over the volcano!”. It was an hour long flight with ten minutes over the eruption. Each additional 5 minute extension cost extra. I did that twice until I thought I might have captured at least one good shot and my volcano soul seemed satisfied by hearing the roar and feeling the heat of the eruption. A couple of rare arctic fox popped their heads up in the field to applaud the landing.
2014 Bardarbunga Eruption (c) Meg Weston