The Arctic Plunge
Wagners Take Iceland, Day 4
Iceland sits atop the North American and the Eurasian tectonic plates, which are slowly tearing the country apart, an inch each year. Inside Pinvellir National Park is Pingvallatan Lake, a crystal-clear dive site in the Silfra fissure. It’s the only place in the world where you can snorkel or dive in this kind of a rift. The freshwater, slowly filtered through the porous Langjokull lava fields for 40 years is crystal clear, offering visibility for more than 100 meters (328 feet.) It’s also nearly freezing. We hopped into a tour bus in the parking lot and zipped into full-body neoprene thermal underwear over our base layers; then dive staff helped us into dry suits. Dry suits look a lot like Batman’s costume, minus the cape. They are all-in-one rubberized onesies complete with booties. The “fun part” was having thick rubber bands cinched around our wrists and neck to keep the 34-degree water out. Unlike wet suits which allow some water in and use your body heat to keep you warm, dry suits are meant to stay dry. They’re also fragile which means no jewelry of any kind under the suit and the staff insists on helping you in and out of them.
Veronica, our dive instructor, talked us through the safety lesson; explaining we should focus on floating and minimize movement to keep the frigid water out of our suits. Then she took us through the route we’d be taking through the fissure. After hearing all the cautionary notes and watching her tighten the thick strap around Gillian’s neck, I was sufficiently panicked before we got into the water.
Plunging headfirst into the lake, I tried to focus on breathing. My cheeks, face and forehead were cold. Like a head freeze from sucking down a smoothie cold, but it was not unbearably cold. Stepping into the water was like being vacuum-sealed. The dry suit shrunk down around my body squeezing me like a hug. It felt unusual but not unpleasant.
Veronica explained in a few minutes, any exposed skin on our face would go numb and we’d enjoy what she called the “Angelina Jolie effect.” After snorkeling in the freezing water, eyes and lips plump up. She said we’d look younger. We really looked like Claymation characters. The snorkel tour was stunning. The crystal-clear water allowed visibility down into a deep blue underwater canyon. In spite of the frigid temperatures, filmy algae and sea grass grows on the rocks. We made our way through a narrow passage between the tectonic plates and posed for the obligatory photo connecting North America to Europe. I was still too paranoid to move my head. When Veronica yelled for me to smile. I did and my mask filled with water. She had told us not to move or adjust the mask, instead instructing us to squeeze on the nose of the mask and blow the extra water out of the snorkel or to just drink it. Glacial water, in fact, all water in Iceland, is not only potable but pure. Naturally, instead of these options, I pulled at my mask and got yelled at by Veronica. Whoops. Eric was much more comfortable in the water and had fun posing for the GoPro pictures tilting his head this way and that. He said he loved tilting his head sideways to see the world, one eye in the air and one below the water. We skimmed over areas so shallow I was sure my belly would brush the rocks. Despite the beauty, I felt an enormous sense of relief when we made it to the exit area of the lagoon. We were floating around exploring the crystal-clear water, colored rocks and vegetation when I saw the next tours coming into the strait. It was time to get out. Pulling off my mask was a huge relief. The picture of us in our dry suits was so funny, it might actually be our family’s Christmas card this year. Back in the parking lot, we were zipped out of our suits and finally allowed to strip the thick rubber diving skull cap off like a Scooby Doo villain. We made it! It was super cool. I’m glad we did it but relieved to cross it off the list. The next snorkel will be in warmer waters with more fish.
Side note: if you decide to do this tour, book the earliest one possible before the entire area is overrun with tourists. We had plenty of time and it felt so special to have this private experience.
Leaving snorkeling, we visited the adjacent Parliament Fields. Literally, this is the original seat of Iceland’s democracy and served as their capital until a series or earthquakes forced the move in 1845 to Reykjavik. The “booths” at Alpigni started in 930 until 1281 when Iceland was ruled by Godar (chieftains). Booths (houses constructed of rock and turf) with wooden rafters covered with a tarp of woolen cloth would house the chieftains while they discussed land agreements and decided punishments and other business. People came almost like it was a festival and marriage arrangements were made. Around 1280 when the King of Norway ruled Iceland and the rule by chieftains was abolished, fewer people attended the Alpigni, but the tradition of gathering to self-govern remained. The historic area is still revered and frequently visited, a little like Colonial Williamsburg, minus the reenactments.
We spent the rest of the day exploring Pinvellir Park seeing ruins and waterfalls. Then visited Oxararfoss, a gorgeous waterfall adjacent to a beautiful pine forest. Unlike national parks in the U.S., seeing the tall pines is unusual in Iceland. When you do see pine trees they’re typically gathered in a small, manicured space. There was a purple tent in a clearing with a parked bicycle. Eric and Matthew were drawn toward it as if they’d found home. We pulled them back to the path and made our way out of the Park.
During Christopher’s white-knuckle drive over a very narrow bridge and the rocky road back to the hotel (thank you Google Maps for that adventure), Matthew sold the family on exploring a nearby natural hot spring. After paying the landowner $40 US, we hiked up a path, over a footbridge, and to an adorable, thatched hut built into the hillside. A babbling brook flowed into a series of pools. Unlike traditional hot springs, this was heated by the rocks and was scattered with people. Gillian stuck up a conversation with two cute Germans and we chatted with two recent Rhodes College graduates on a celebratory trip with their moms. These Americans were doing our tour in reverse and had just hiked the active volcano the day before. They went with a tour group but explained in great detail to Eric how we could potentially go on our own. It’s an ambitious 4-hour (roundtrip) hike up the active volcano which has been spewing lava since earlier this month. Just make sure you take the high path, not the low path. The low one gets you closer to the volcano, but then you have to watch out for noxious gas. It’ll make you pass out and then you’ll have to be airlifted out. They agreed when I said how embarrassing it would be to be rescued. Eric and the boys are now fully engaged in taking advantage of this once-in-a-lifetime activity. We pulled Gill out of her international chat and headed back to the hotel for a casual dinner before packing up and heading south. Tomorrow, we go to Vik, the land of black sand beaches and glaciers.
