The Last Iceland Post

Thanks to the holidays, my weekend photo post missed the "weekend" target.  I hope you all had a great holiday of whatever sort you enjoy. I had a wonderful time with my kids and the rest of the clan. 

This is the final installment in my on-going series of photo posts about my trip to Iceland in September 2025, including a my 2-week campervan tour of the Ring Road. If you haven't seen the previous posts and want to read them in order, here are the links to post #1   post #2    post #3   post #4   post #5  post #6  post #7  post #8 and post #9.  

The last couple of days of my trip were pretty low-key, in part because I was getting tired, in part because I'd done all the big stuff, and in part because the weather went absolutely Icelandic on me on the last day. 
 

Day 12 (Sept. 22): Háifoss and history

It rained pretty hard overnight, but the morning wasn't bad, so I went ahead with a late-breaking plan to drive a fair way (including a really rough six to ten miles of dirt road) to visit the Háifoss, another contender for highest waterfall in Iceland (I think there are at least 5 that have claimed the title at one time or another). It proved worth the painful drive.

A short walk from the car park you can see the falls (there are actually two; Háifoss and Granni, meaning "neighbor") from above and across the canyon. 

Háifoss.

Háifoss left, Grenni right.

Grenni

Soon, I realized I could hike to the bottom of the falls, a round trip of less than three miles. Since it still wasn't really raining, I did it.

Háifoss from below.

I was really hoping I could get around to the base of Grenni--the map made it look like you could--but it turned out the only way would have been to get into the stream. It wasn't deep or fast enough to be hazardous, but it was cold and wet enough to be unappealing. I stuck with views of the Háifoss.

Now I just had to hike back up, eat some lunch (it was 11:30 when I got back to the camper), and drive that ghastly road back out to pavement.

My next stop was a silly and quirky one. In the town of Selfoss there is a mall, built (with a lot of fancy engineering to make it safe) atop a deep crack that opened and is touted as being the gap between tectonic plates separating Europe and North America. Of course, it's not that simple, but it makes for good visuals. 

Naturally they put in a glass floor, and a row of lights to make you think you're looking down at hot lava. You aren't. Still cool.

I was also there for a few final groceries. I was heading to the coast and wouldn't be seeing much in the way of stores until I returned to Keflavik to turn in the camper (at that point, I was planning to do so only the morning of my flight).

In the town of Stokkseyri, I stumbled on something I recognized. Earlier this year I reviewed a book called Woman, Captain, Rebel, about Thuridur Einarsdottir, who fished as crew and captain from this town for 50 years, starting in 1794 when she was 17. I was excited to find the replica of the fishing hut she and her crews would have used while waiting for the weather to allow them to launch, and a sign honoring her unique life.

The door is only about 4 feet high, but the interior has room to stand in the middle.

The hut is a replica, originally built in 1949 (a surprising time to be honoring non-conforming women), and rebuilt in 2001 and 2014 (by which I assume that by 2001 it had fallen into ruin).

The bare minimum: bunks, a fireplace, and a roof over their heads.

 The "harbor" they used could hardly be less amenable to safe passage in and out.

In Thuridur's day there was neither dock nor breakwater--just a mess of low rocks and shoals to navigate on the way to the little bit of beach. A lot of fishing boats and fishermen were lost.

Moving along the coast, I reached Eyrarbakki about 4 p.m., and nabbed a campsite then explored the town a bit on foot, as it was windy but mostly not raining.

The church in Eyrarbakki.

 Fun bits of history and geography can be found on signs around town.

You'd hit Antarctica (and only that) going due south from pretty much anywhere on the coast of Iceland. But this spot is special, because you can draw a straight line to the South Pole.

 

In the village I found a local history museum, and for once had time and the place was open, so I checked it out. 

The building was the first all-wood home in town. That conveyed wealth and class, though I suspect it was much less warm than the sod and stone houses. The museum was furnished in 18th- and 19th-Century upper-class furnishings.

Less classy: shoes and slippers made of codfish skins, to be worn on the rough, wet trips afoot from one place to another.

 

Day 13 (Sept. 23): Thermal features and wild coastlines (Reykjanes Peninsula)

The next morning the wind was at least as fierce--it had now been blowing a gale for several days, at least (ever since I arrived on the south coast, anyway)--and the rain picked up. I made a few stops along the coast to check out the scene, and visited the thermal features at Seltún.

Blowing sand.

Black sand with dune grasses.

Crashing surf at Brimkettil.

The troll's bathtub at Brimketill. On a calm day one might be tempted to go soak in it. It didn't look appealing on this day!

I was drawn to this house not far off the road for its look and its setting. It turned out to have been Herdísarvík, where one of Iceland's most famous poets lived with his partner for many years (he from 1932 to his death in 1940). He wrote, she ran the farm. Kind of classic, but they seemed to like it; she stayed on there for 20 years after his death. 

The sign post noted one of his lies of poetry that has become an Icelandic proverb: "How destitute is a heart that misses nothing."

A piece of outdoor art, commemorating Authur the Deep-Minded, daughter of Ketill. According to the Laxdaela saga, she secretly built a ship in Caithness (Scotland) and sailed to Iceland with 20 men, to escape the wars and famine down south.

Authur was lucky to have made it. Not far from her monument, I stumbled onto a little road near Grindavik that I thought was taking me to a monument to shipwrecked sailors. It did have that--but it also had multiple remains of vessels wrecked off this coast.

The wreck of the Hrafn Sveinbjarnarson III, `988. All 11 crew were rescued by helicopter.

Finally I turned away from the coast for a while to visit Seltún. Some of my impression might have been affected by the weather (which was both wet and windy), but I think this one might benefit from being visited before seeing places like Hverir. Still--lots of colorful earth.

A stream a little way off from the thermal features provided a welcome bit of green! 

When I reached Sandgerthi, where I'd thought to spend the night, I decided to go on in and camp at the Happy Camper home base, which proved to be a good decision as I needed all the time I had in the morning to clear out the camper and return it. For the record, I'll give Happy Campers a top rating, as they were easy to work with, helpful, less expensive than many, and didn't ding me for the hubcap that went missing somewhere (probably that road to Haífoss).

Since no volcanoes were producing actual lava during my visit, it was nice of the campground to make a fake volcano and lava flow!

Farewell to Iceland!

Thus endeth the saga of Rebecca's trip to Iceland. Will I go back? I'd say there's a decent chance I will, in pursuit of trails and waterfalls in the Highlands and the Westfjords.

 

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My hike through Iceland's Highlands on the Laugavegur trail can be found here, here, and here.

 

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 ©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2025 

As always, please ask permission to use any photos or text. Link-backs appreciated.


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