SOUTHERN ICELAND III: REYNISFJARA BEACH, REYNISDRANGAR ROCK STACKS, HÁLSANEFSHELLIR CAVE, AND DYRHÓLAEY LIGHTHOUSE

 June 13, 2019

(I'm sorry about that title, but I absolutely LOVE the incomprehensible, unpronounceable Icelandic names and couldn't resist.)

At the southernmost tip of Iceland is the tiny village of Vik (pronounced "veek"), population 320. 

It is the largest settlement within 40 miles in any direction. It is also has over 1,000 hotel rooms, is the wettest and warmest spot on the island, and will likely disappear in a flood of melted glacier if the nearby volcano Katla erupts, as it is expected to do in the near future. 

But for now, it hosts the tourists who have made their way to the mystical, magical black sand Reynisfjara Beach. ("Fjara" means "shore" or "beach" in Icelandic, so I guess I'm being redundant.) In the distance are massive 220-foot-tall basalt towers known as Reynisdrangar. ("Drangar" means "pillars.") According to legend, one night some trolls were trying to pull some ships to shore. However, they took too long, and when dawn broke, the trolls and ships were turned to stone:

This is no Caribbean beach. The "sand" is billions of tiny lava pebbles dotted by larger rocks and blotches of algae. Even in June, the air was cold and the water was icy. It is a wild, untamed place that in 1991 was named one of the 10 most beautiful non-tropical beaches in the world.

This part of Iceland is subject to "sneaker waves," or waves that sneak up on people out of a seemingly calm ocean.  If you want to see a really disturbing video of a sneaker wave at a place not far from this beach, scroll down to the end of this website and watch the video. The action starts at about 2:15.

Emerald-green craggy bluffs reach down right to the edge of the black sand. Bob, in his neon purple jacket, is easy to spot against the green:

No sandcastles will ever be built on Reynisfjara, but there is an alternative:

Cairns fashioned by human hands seem strangely appropriate here. Perhaps these two are another pair of frozen trolls holding a conversation:

We drove a bit further down the beach to this imposing spot, Hálsanefshellir, a triangular peak with a base of rippling basalt on one side and a staircase of hexagonal basalt columns on the other. (Google tells me that "Halsanefshellir" translates to "neck's nose cave," whatever that means.) If you are interested in how those columns are formed, see this site.

From here we had a view of some other rock stacks:

And in the other direction, the squared-off towers of Dyrhólaey Peninsula command the coast. More on them later.

The basalt columns on the right side of the cave are a natural spot for photos, and many in our group posed for pictures here. In fact, all of them except for us. For some reason, Bob had taken off back to our minibus. Alas, a missed opportunity for the perfect Christmas card picture.

Remember the Hallsgrimskirja in one of my first Iceland posts? This is where the architect got his inspiration:

A visit to this cave, where so many different geological processes are at work, must be a geologist's dream:

The rock formations inside the cave remind me of muqarnas, a style of ceiling ornamentation common in Islamic architecture:

Photo from here.

I love the juxtaposition of unyielding rock and velvety turf:

Not far from the Hálsanefshellir Cave, a road leads to the top of a plateau on which the Dyrhólaey Lighthouse stands. From there we had a good view of the southern coast in both directions:

 

Dyrhólaey cave, a step-down extension of the lighthouse plateau, is a massive stone arch rising from the ocean. We had seen it from a distance when we were on Reynisfjara Beach. The word "Dyrhólaey" means "door hole island":

Reynisfjara Beach extends on both sides of the plateau:

The Reynisdrangar Rock Stacks are visible in the distance, and people walking a trail from the plateau and along the beach must have been on their way there for a closer look:

The cliffs of the Dyrhólaey plateau are pretty intense . . .

. . . especially with nothing but a simple chain railing (and a little bit of common sense) to prevent one from walking off the edge:

Of course, there is this warning sign, not much larger than a manila envelope:

As we saw all over Iceland, there was a peculiar blend of beauty and power on the plateau:

A light station was established on this point in 1910, and the current Dyrhólaey Lighthouse was built in 1927. It marks the southernmost point of Iceland. It is a working lighthouse, but the light is controlled electronically from some place in Reykjavik. The lighthouse itself has been converted into an upscale boutique hotel open for only ten or eleven weeks a year.

Wouldn't that be a fun place for a family reunion? On the other hand, it would be a parent's worst nightmare to be trying to keep the kids away from the cliffs.

We made one more stop on the way back to our hotel at a the Lava Center, a museum all about volcanoes, and then our time in Iceland was pretty much over. Finally, kudos to our fantastic guide and driver, Irv. He always on time and with a smile on his face, and he accommodated all of our crazy wants and wishes while still showing us all the great things in his country.