Iceland (5): The Golden Circle, Gullfoss, Geysir and Þingvellir

An Awesome Waterfall, the Original Geyser and a Thousand-Year-Old Parliament

A Plan of Sorts

Iceland

After yesterdays’ drive from Kirkjubæjarklaustur along the south coast and then inland to the isolated Gulfoss hotel, our fourth full day in Iceland would start with a very short drive to the Gulfoss waterfall. From there it is only 10km to Geysir an area of thermal pools and spouting water that gave its name to the world for us to misspell and mispronounce.

Þingvellir is a further fifty kilometres across much gentler countryside than Iceland usually has to offer. In 930 the early settlers met in a green valley beside a wide blue lake to sort out their difference and decide how Iceland should be run. Annual meetings continued until 1798 and now take place on a more frequent basis in the Alþingishúsið in Reykjavík.Þingvellir became a national park in 1930 on the thousandth anniversary of the first meeting.

Gullfoss, Geysir and Þingvellir make up Iceland's 'Golden Circle', a reasonably easy circular day trip from Reykjavik

Today's journey is in green, starting from the Gulfoss Hotel and ending on the west coast at Borgarnes

From Þingvellir we drove almost back to Reykjavik then north along the coast to Borgarnes our base for the next two nights.

Gullfoss, an Awesome Waterfall

We checked the route on the phone before leaving the hotel. ‘3Km,’ it said, ‘4 minutes driving time. Gullfoss is currently closed.’ We did once visit a waterfall in Armenia that was specifically turned on for us, so if a waterfall can be turned on, it can be turned off. We went anyway.

We arrived to find the ‘retail opportunities’ were closed, but there were two cars in the extensive car park and no one on earth could close Gullfoss.

Gulfoss

I spent 1983-4 teaching in a High School in the USA. In the early 80s American teenagers required only four adjectives, everything they encountered could be described as cute, neat, gross or awesome. I am not claiming their British peers were any less linguistically challenged, but I was habituated to their expressions while the constant repetition of these four words soon came to grate on my ear. Ever since I have thought carefully before using any of them.

But, Gullfoss inspires awe, so that makes it awesome. The water does not fall a great distance, 32m in two steps is modest, and wider falls have greater rates of flow but the sheer energy of the white water seething across the iron-shaped step and cascading into the depths of the gorge below takes the breath away. The only appropriate response to the power of nature is awe.

Earlier we had walked from the car park along the lower path to roughly the same point as the couple in the photograph below. We had hoped to see the water dropping into the gorge, but what appears to be mist is actually a torrent of falling water so that was as far as we went.

Gullfoss and the Gorge beneath

In the first half of the 20th century Tómas Tómasson and Halldór Halldórsson who owned the waterfall attempted to promote its use to generate hydro-electricity. They were heroically opposed by Sigríður Tómasdóttir, who, as her name implies¹, was Tómas Tómasson’s daughter. Eventually they sold the falls to the Icelandic state, and it is now protected.

Gullfoss, seething water on the 'step'

Geysir

Here comes a brief digression linking Gullfoss with our next visit and our previously mentioned American sojourn.

In 1984 we visited Yellowstone Park. It has magnificent waterfalls, geysers to spare, and any number of thermal pools, some spouting, some bubbling and some vividly coloured with dissolved salts. It was one of the most memorable visits of our final five-week road trip through the western states.

Geysir, Iceland

While watching a row of smaller pools, all bubbling quietly and one of them sending spurts of water arcing to left and right, we were approached by a park ranger. He volunteered some information, now long forgotten, but I remember him saying that the commonest question he was asked was if the geysers and pools could be used for anything. He hated this question and struggled to understand why some people could not enjoy these marvels for what they are, without wondering how they could be used or (in a word not then current) monetized.

Geysir, Iceland

He moved on to talk to other visitors. We passed him later as we left and heard a man asking ‘isn’t there some way to use all this energy?’

Geysir, Iceland

I stand with the ranger and Sigríður Tómasdóttir. Hydro-electricity and geothermal power are exploited throughout Iceland, they are clean and reliable sources of energy, but most Icelanders understand that some places must be left untouched, as do most Americans which is why Yellowstone is one of many National Parks. My only disagreement with the ranger is that I think such places are already useful. We humans need to be exposed to the wonders, power and indeed dangers of nature and we require reminding we own none of this, but hold it in trust for later generations.

From Gullfoss we drove the short distance to Geysir and I have seeded three pictures of the thermal springs at Geysir into the digression above. Although worth visiting, it is much smaller than Yellowstone, and neither as varied or as dramatic. On the plus side, it is 6,000km closer to home.

For the best part of a thousand years the only spouts of hot water known to Europeans were here, so geysir gave its name to the world. English and some other European languages have changed the ‘i’ to an ‘e’ and we have all adopted a pronunciation that suits us, GUY-zer in America (so Google tells me) GEE-zer in Britain whereas the Icelandic original sounds like gaysish with neither syllable stressed.

However you pronounce it, this place has the original Little Geyser (Litli Geysir)…

Litli Geysir

…and the original biggy.

The Geysir

Volcanic activity affects all geysers and recent changes have rendered these two largely inactive. However, just a few steps away, Strokkur can be relied upon to do its things every couple of minutes.

Geysir to Þingvellir

Iceland is, without doubt, a beautiful country, but it is a harsh and awesome (again! oh dear) beauty. Nature in Iceland is less about flora and fauna and more about the unfeeling majesty of geology and hydrology, and the power within the earth to transform the very land the people live on.

Geysir to Þingvellir

But the 50-minute drive west to Þingvellir took us through a gentler countryside bathed for an hour or two, in unaccustomed sunshine. That is what I thought at the time, looking at the photographs now, ‘gentler’ must be seen in context, these are not the lush valleys of rural Herefordshire.

Geysir to Þingvellir. A road curving into the distance is always an enticing sight

Þingvellir

The thorn (þ) is pronounced like the ‘th’ in thing and, armed with that information, Þingvellir is one of the few Icelandic words pronounced exactly as you might expect.

Some History

The recording of Iceland’s earliest history is remarkable. The oldest surviving copy of the Book of Settlements, (Landnámabók) is 13th century but it describes in detail the settlement of Iceland in the 9th and 10th centuries.

The book was started in 874 when the Norwegian chieftain Ingólfur Arnarson became Iceland’s first permanent inhabitant. Others followed and district assemblies were formed for settling local disputes. As the population grew, the descendants of Ingólfur became the most powerful clan and other chieftains felt an all-island assembly, an Alþingi, might help limit their powers.

Rallying support and finding a suitable venue was the task of Grímur Geitskör. He found an available piece of land, now known as Þingvellir (Assembly Field) immediately to the north of Iceland’s second largest lake, Þingvallavatn (Assembly Field Water).

Þingvallatan from the Þingvellir visitor centre

The site was chosen for its accessibility – even the most distant chieftain could reach here in 17 days. No-one knows if the lake’s beauty influenced this choice, but in sunshine it looks most appealing.

Þingvellir, has played a central role in the country’s history and the first Alþingi, in summer of 930 is considered as the founding of the Icelandic nation and cultural identity. The modern parliament sits in a building in Reykjavik not a field by a lake, but it is still called the Alþingi. Other Nordic languages have lost their ‘th’ sounds, so the Danish parliament is called the Folketing and the Norwegian the Storting².

The Lögberg

A path descends from the visitor centre through a cleft in the rock wall into the valley north of the lake. I doubt that Grímur Geitskör had any idea that the spot he had chosen was in the rift valley formed by the European and North American continents slowly drifting apart.

Descending into the valley

The path continues beside the cliff marking the edge of the American continent…

Walking below the edge of America

… to the Lögberg (Law Rock). The Alþingi took place every summer and this was its focal point. Any attendee could present his case or raise an issue of concern at the Lögberg and it was here the rulings of the Law Council were communicated and important announcements made to the nation. The Lawspeaker, elected for a three-year term, presided over proceedings and in the early days, before the law was written, he would also recite the whole of Icelandic law.

The Lögberg, Þingvellir

Around the Lögberg are the remains of several booths, accommodation for leading chieftains during the Alþing. To the untrained eye they almost indistinguishable from all the other rocks. The less important watched proceeding from the ground below. Although the valley was 20m narrow then, and volcanic activity has moved the streams around, I doubt it was any less lovely than it is today. Europe starts roughly where the trees stand. Everything in between is Icelandic National Park, UNESCO World Heritage Site and No-Man’s Land.

The valley north of the lake, Þingvellir

Taking one of the paths across we looked back to the Lögberg. From here the natural rock platform looks an obvious choice for anyone reciting the law or giving out their judgements..

The Lögberg, Þingvellir

Þingvallakirkja (Þingvellir Church) and Prime Minister’s Residence

When Iceland accepted Christianity, about 1000 CE, Olaf the Stout, King of Norway sent wood to build a church and a bell for its tower. The current church, on the European side of the valley, dates from 1859, old for an Icelandic building despite their long history of settlement.

Þingvallakirkja (Þingvellir Church)

It is a tiny church serving a tiny population.

Inside Þingvallakirkja (Þingvellir Church)

Given the importance of Þingvellir, the Prime Minister must have a residence here, and a modest five-gabled farmhouse sits next to the church. Katrín Jakobsdóttir, the current incumbent, was not at home.

Prime Minister's Residence, Þingvellir

Þingvellir to Borgarnes

The 90km drive to Borgarnes took us almost back into Reykjavik to re-join Route 1 - Iceland’s ring road or Hringvegur.

We followed Route 1 north up the coast. In the past it made lengthy detours round two fjords, but the 6km long Hvalfjörður Tunnel (opened 1998) and the 500m Borgarfjarðarbrú (1981), the second longest bridge in Iceland, have shortened the journey considerably

Þingvellir to Borgarnes

Any route in Iceland will take you through scenic countryside – provided the visibility is good enough. Today we had the bonus of sunshine; south west Iceland sees 170 hours of sunshine in an average July, for comparison Birmingham manages 190+ while Faro in the climatically blessed Algarve enjoys 360.

Nearing Borgarnes

Borgarnes

Borganes, pronounced as an evenly stressed Bor-gar-ness lies at the end of the Borgarfjarðarbrú (Borgarnes Fjord Bridge). The town straggles along a small peninsula (or ‘ness’) and with almost 2,000 inhabitants feels unusually metropolitan by Icelandic standards.

Founded in the late 19th century, Borgarnes takes its name from Borg á Mýrum, the farm of Egil Skallagrimsson. He was reputedly a sorcerer, beserker, farmer and poet who lived hereabouts in the 10th century and wrote Egil’s Saga. The story covers 150 years of local history, most of it involving extremely violent family feuds.

Borgarnes

Despite a museum dedicated to Egil’s life and times, all now seems peaceful. We found the Borgarnes Hotel near the tip of the peninsula, checked in and took a stroll to look at the town and its restaurants.

The excellent view from our hotel window - provided you ignore the buildings

Historically construction material has been a problem for Icelanders, there are too few trees to provide wood, and volcanic rock does not make good building stone. Iceland was also poor, so architecture, such as it is, tended towards the functional.

Borgarnes - is it made from kits/

This remains largely true even after 50 years or more of affluence, but there are corners of Borgarnes were somebody appears to care how their buildings look.

Borgarnes - a little more effort here

Englendingavík Restaurant

Englendingavik (English Bay) Restaurant, even closer to the end of the peninsula than our hotel, clearly stood out among an otherwise uninspiring collection of fast-food joints.

Englendingavik Restaurant, Borgarnes

We arrived at the appropriate time and found ourselves joining a queue outside the door. On reaching the front, we were told to come back in 45 minutes when there might be a table ready – it was Saturday, but that is easy to miss when you are on holiday. We asked if there was somewhere we could sit and have a drink while we waited. After a moment’s hesitation they sent us up a set of wooden stairs to a sort of loft, part lounge, part storage for old furniture.

Waiting for a table, Englendingavik Restaurant, Borgarnes

Our being there concentrated their minds and within twenty minutes we were settled at a table. Icelandic menus usually list five or six main courses, selected from the ten or so dishes of the national repertoire. Lynne went for a lamb shank – Iceland produces its own lamb and it is always a good choice. I had noticed that more upmarket restaurants often had confit of duck leg on the menu and I thought I would see what they made of this French classic. The dish was heavier than it would have been beside the Dordogne (perhaps it’s the potatoes, they are proud of their potatoes), but that’s appropriate given the climate, otherwise they made a fine job of it and I enjoyed it very much.

¹Because that's the way Icelandic names work. You have a given name, and that is the name you are listed under in the phone book, electoral register etc. As there are a limited number of given names, you add a patronymic so everybody knows which John you are. If John has a son Robert, he is Robert Johnson, if Robert Johnson has children called Mark and Sarah, they are Mark Robertson and Sara Robertsdaughter. There are no family names.
This system was once widely used, and still exists in parts of the Arabic speaking world and elsewhere. The Icelanders, though, do move with the times. You may now chose a matronymic instead of a patronymic, or if you want to be non-gender specific you can use -bud (child of) instead of son or daughter.

²These names are not confined to the Nordic countries. Tynwald, the Manx parliament, means ‘assembly field’ mixing the Norse ‘Þing’ and old English ‘weald’, the same derivation gives the town of Dingwall in Scotland. In Germany, too, the abandoned 'th' is often replaced with a 'd' and 'g' becomes 'k'. If the 'field' or 'weald' becomes the German 'lage' (pronounced like the beer) you get the town of Dinklage in Lower Saxony. Emigrate from there to the US, anglicise the pronunciation and one of your descendants will be the actor behind the most interesting character in Game of Thrones.

Iceland

Part 1 Introduction to Reykjavik
Part 2 West from Reykjavik along Route 1
Part 3 A Calving Glacier, a Basalt Pavement and an Otherworldly Canyon
Part 4 Vik, Skógafoss and Skógar
Part 5 The Golden Circle, Gullfoss, Geysir and Þingvellir
Part 6 The Snæfellsnes Peninsula: Whale Watching and Fermented Shark
Part 7: Covid Testing, Grindavik and the Blue Lagoon
Part 8: A Day in Reykjavik