Ice In The Land of Fire and Ice
If there is one thing Iceland does well better than anyone else, it would probably be its branding of the tourism sector. Among all the nicknames Iceland gives herself, the “Land of Fire and Ice” is by far the best, in my opinion. So we were slightly disappointed that we hadn’t seen any substantial ice nearly a week into our Icelandic road trip. Aside from light snowpacks at the ridges here and there, Iceland has been pretty ice-free. With our volcano hike scheduled for the last day of our trip, I was getting a little restless about missing out on the fire or ice of Iceland. Naturally, we were genuinely excited to peek at Europe’s biggest glacier.
Our itinerary for the day took us from the eastern town of Seydisfjordur to the rural village of Kirkjubæjarklaustur. It was roughly a 7-hour drive with many detours to various sites. It did help that we met up with our friends Vince and Ivy the evening prior and stayed up way too late. For whatever reason, I budgeted only a full day for the southeastern corner of Iceland, severely limiting our time on the ground.
Shortly past the town of Höfn, we entered Iceland’s glacier country. By all accounts, Vatnajökull Glacier is massive. Covering roughly the size of Delaware, the glacier covers a surprisingly good portion of the country. Although this would not be my first time seeing a glacier, it was one of the easiest ways to see the glacier landscape I could imagine. Along Highway 1 were a series of glacial tongues that greeted us about every ten minutes or so. All in all, Vatnajökull has about thirty glacial tongues, and we soon lost count of them.
The Diamond Beach
The first stop of our glacier visit is to stop is Breidamerkursandur, also known as the “Diamond Beach.” It was a short five-minute stroll from the parking lot to the pebble beach. Located at the mouth of the Jökulsárlón lagoon, this stretch of beach is littered with chunks of ice broken off from the glacier. It is one of the most photographed locations in Iceland, and it seems like a selfie on the beach is obligatory for all foreign tourists. It did not take much to understand the nickname of Diamond Beach. Even under the overcast sky, the ice still sparkles with dazzling brilliance.
I must have seen hundreds of photos of this beach; you can’t avoid them when researching Icelandic trips. So, I have to admit that I was a little disappointed by the amount of ice on the shore. Unfortunately for us, the amount of ice was quite sparse. Because the level of ice is entirely subjected to glacial melt in the nearby lagoon and the ocean current, Diamond Beach is in constant flux. For that reason, photographers of all levels love this place because every visit is unique. If time permits, I would love to bring a fold-up camper chair with a thermos of hot coffee to enjoy this show of nature.
In many ways, I really wished we had visited Iceland ten years ago, and I was thinking that not because of the concern of over-tourism. Instead, what weighed on our minds were the impacts of global climate change. Although glacier melt has been ongoing for the past half-century, the rate of glacier demise in the past two decades has been alarming for locals and international experts. Every piece of ice on the beach is a physical manifestation of the warming climate. According to experts, the ice on the beach is approximately 1,000 years old. It was difficult not to feel a little melancholy and sadness. Every piece of ice is a time capsule of the atmosphere of the past; witnessing their demise into the North Atlantic right in front of us was heartbreaking.
The visit to Diamond Beach reminded me of the famous quote from President Thomas Jefferson: “Traveling makes men wiser, but less happy.” Though I generally disagree with much of Jefferson’s political ideology, I felt the true meaning of this well-known quote for the first time. The quote is almost synonymous with “ignorance is bliss,” and it is always difficult to witness the destruction in action. It is all that more ironic that all the trips that brought up to this place contribute to the carbon emission that exacerbates the situation.
Jökulsárlón Glacier Lagoon
Just north of Diamond Beach was the mouth of the glacial outlet that connects the Jökulsárlón Glacier Lagoon to the ocean. This particular “river” is surprisingly short. We could easily walk from the beach to the lagoon in about ten minutes. Because the water flow was at its fastest at this location, it is perhaps the best place to bid goodbye to the iceberg. At the narrowest point is the bridge that carries the traffic of Highway 1. Even though the bridge obstructs the view toward the glacier, it was nevertheless a wonderful sight. The juxtaposition between the force of nature and man-made structures is spectacular.
From the parking lot of Diamond Beach, it was a two-minute drive to arrive at the main parking area for the glacial lagoon. Our first impression was that the area was teeming with visitors, and I would even say it was one of the most touristy spots we visited on this trip. Even though only we arrived here at 5:30 pm, the parking lot was jam-packed. As a premier attraction, Jökulsárlón Glacial Lagoon has well-developed amenities, including a gift shop, cafe, and free public restroom. It was not entirely clear to me how the Icelandic government partly funds these services. After all, this is part of the Vatnajökull National Park, a UNESCO World Heritage Site itself.
The lagoon we see nowadays first appeared in 1934 and has gradually expanded as the glacier retreated further inland. With a maximum depth of more than 810 feet, this is the deepest lake in Iceland and is expanding in size by the day. Upon returning home, I stumbled upon a 2015 documentary about Iceland on the National Geographic channel. It was shocking just what a difference six years had made in this landscape. In comparison to the documentary, the lake today is enormous. The tongue of the glacier seems to be at least four or five miles inland from the parking lot.
To get a closer look at the glacier, we decided to go on one of the boat tours on the lagoon. Luckily, there were still a few open spots on the boat for the last trip of the day at 6 pm. Luckily for those with decidophobia, there is only one company offering the boat tour. Like most tour operators in Iceland, the tour options are clearly advertised and well described. For 5,900 ISK, we got a seat on their 45-minute amphibian boat tour. It had been over a decade since we had been on the amphibian (duck) tour, so we were naturally excited. A young woman, a captain, and an escorting RIB boat guide the tour. It was clear that they took safety very seriously.
The amphibian tour was a relaxing experience, and it was not for those looking for the thrill of speed boating. To get the best glimpse of the glacier, you must opt for their Zodiac Tour with their rigid inflated boats. This hour-long tour brought you to the edge of the glacier… close enough to touch the ice yourself. Unfortunately, those tours tend to sell out quite early and cost 10,500 ISK per person. But for us, we were perfectly content with our tour option. Our guide is friendly and eager to take photos of all the guests. On the tour, we learned about the different types of glacial ice and the delicate ecology of the glacial lake. Our definite favorite is glacial ice with distinct black striation.
A standard tour ritual is retrieving a chunk of glacier ice that was freshly broken off. The transparent color of the fresh ice chunk was surprisingly normal. However, the texture was unique, and we could all take time to hold and examine it. As corny as it may sound, having a piece of ice from medieval times in hand did hold some magical power. Interestingly, the dramatic decline of this glacial tongue is more of a unique case. The high salinity of the lagoon water is a major contributing factor to the faster rate of glacial melt. The saltwater eats away the underwater structure of the glacier and topples the ice cap above. Unfortunately, we did not see an iceberg flipped over during our tour.
A wholely unexpected side of Jökulsárlón that we did not expect was the abundance of wildlife that called this icy landscape home. The most exciting inhabitants among them are a whole herd of arctic seals. Seals are most often spotted during the wintertime to take refuge and take advantage of the abundance of fish in the lagoon. Our guide was quick to spot a couple of them for us. Atop many icebergs were many seabirds that seemed to amuse at our presence in the lagoon. Back on land, we stumbled across a couple of ducks, comfortably nesting at the lagoon's edge without caring for the world.
We were fortunate to be blessed with rather decent weather. The color of the iceberg was stunning. I only wish we had a couple of extra hours available to us. Overall, we spent approximately two hours there before we had to head south toward our hotel. Our visit to the glacial lagoon showed us the definite upsides of traveling with a camper van while in Iceland. Instead of being restricted by the limited hotel inventory and short dining hours at the restaurants, the camper vans provide great freedom to enjoy the midnight sun here without another tourist in sight.
Skeiðará Bridge Monument
Even though our time in the glacier country was criminally short, we felt it was a good introduction to Iceland’s glacial landscape. Of course, the impact of glaciers is everywhere you look in Iceland. As we continued westward toward Vik on the Ring Road, we came across a hulk of twisted structural girders by the left side of the road. It looked as if the local authority forgot to call for waste removal. But we have traveled around Iceland long enough to know that all roadside attractions or monuments deeply symbolize local culture and history. This monument is no exception.
On the road from Jökulsárlón Glacier Lagoon toward Vík, we came across a tangle of steel girders abandoned on the left side of the road. The name of this memorial is Skeiðará Bridge Monument. The twisted steel was the remains of the steel bridge that used to span across the glacial river Skeiðará. In 1996, the volcano Vatnajökull erupted beneath the glacier and unleashed a torrent of flood downstream. Even though the engineers have accounted for the flood, they could not predict the physical impact of the floating iceberg that was the size of a house or a ship. While no one was killed in the incident, Skeiðará earned a reputation as one of Iceland's most unpredictable glacial runs.
History aside, the monument’s location is spectacular. From this spot, we get to admire two different glacier tongues: Skeiðarárjökull and Svinafellsjökull. Unfortunately, some tourists opted to climb the monument as if it were playground equipment. I personally found that to be distasteful and disrespectful. The handy parking lot offers a detailed account of the flood events and explains how Icelanders have come to accept the unpredictability that nature has thrown at them over the millennium. More than any other sight in Iceland, this monument illustrates the awesome power of glaciers and just how vulnerable human beings have always been in this foreboding landscape.
About a five-minute drive south of the memorial is the actual site of Skeiðará Bridge. We were surprised that many original bridges and roadways were still in place. Without stopping at Skeiðará Bridge Monument, we would have never known the significance of this seemingly duplicate roadway. It just showed that an Icelandic road trip offered such wonderful educational opportunities. My best advice to prospective first-time visitors would be to slow down your pace and enjoy all the wonderful sights this country offers.