INTO THE WILD

In Icelands fairyland landscape,the fury of the elements is never far from you

Icelands fairyland landscape,the fury of the elements is never far from you
In February 2007,mountains of Arctic ice crumbled,heading towards warmer climes. Before Iceland could melt,I flew to Keflavik in mid-March. As the plane approached the southern coast of Iceland,I could see the vast ink-blue sea littered with chunks of bobbing ice spat out by glacial tongues of Vatnajoekull,which at 8,300 sq km,is the worlds third largest ice cap after those of Antarctica and Greenland.

The 48-km road from Keflavik to Reykjavik,the worlds northernmost capital,led through a heaving sea of lava,its black surface chequered with white snow and tumbled rocks architecturally piled on top of each other.
The next day,a bright sun lighting up the frozen land,I toured southwest Iceland.The black-tarred road ran through an undulating snowland bristling with long arrays of hills and retired volcanoes. The countryside had no vegetation; only two per cent of Iceland is farmland. But when the first settlers arrived in the ninth century,half of Iceland is believed to have been covered with expansive forests. Since then,man,sheep,wind and volcanic eruptions have wiped away the botany. But mans ingenuity has led to an alternative. Crossing a mountain pass,we stopped at a greenhouse that grew bananas,papayas,tomatoes,cucumbers and flowers using geothermal heat,Icelands most important natural resource.

Iceland squats on the Mid-Atlantic Ridge,an 18,000-km plate boundary running the length of the Atlantic Ocean. The country was created by suboceanic volcanic eruptions caused by the movement of the tectonic plates. Iceland is only 15 million years old; if the earth was formed 24 hours ago,the country appeared less than five minutes ago,making it the youngest nation in the world.
The frosted road snaked its way past uninhabited summer cottages and Mormon family churches. Here and there,dry blueberry shrubs,willows and dwarf birch rose out of the snowfields. As we drove up to a canyon,the Golden Falls,two separate cataracts in quick succession made a wild appearance.

We then headed for Geysir,the original spouting hot spring after which all the worlds geysers are named. Since the 14th century,the geyser had been blasting a jet of superheated water 80 metres into the air,but since the Sixties,it has been on strike,annoyed by the rocks tossed by tourists. Its neighbour,Strokkur,spouts up to 35 metres every 10 minutes. As I trudged carefully across a trail of slippery ice to see Strokkurs spectacle,boiling water bubbled furiously from a small hole in the ground. The fizz gained momentum and all of a sudden,a 50-feet high jet of boiling water burst forth with a piercing noise,veiling the landscape with vapour.

Driving through a fairyland of snow,the mountain-fringed shores of Lake Pingvallavatn came into view. We got off the road and drove on a snow track through the Mid-Atlantic Ridge that lies exposed here. Here,the splitting of Iceland by the movements of the North American Plate and the Eurasian Plate was clearly visible.
On another day,I toured southeast Iceland. Between south Iceland and Antarctica,there is only sea. We visited the village of Eyrarbakki,once the countrys main harbour. Its stark black beaches are made of lava from Pjorsarhraun,the largest known Holocene lava flow in the world,formed by the eruption of about 20 volcanoes. On our return from the quaint township of Vik,the winds howled,threatening to rip the coach into shreds. The storm tore off the ventilator of the coach,just above my head,blowing it off its hinges,blasting blustery weather through the gap. A dirt-track led us to the black volcanic beach at Reynisfjara,the southernmost point of Iceland. Fighting wind,we plodded through the black sand carpeting a rounded bay,towards an arched cave formed by wave erosion. The pounding sea had twisted and tortured the basalt cliff,chiseling it into columns that rose like a giant church organ.

My friend Stefan took me to Stykkisholmur,a little town in west Iceland,a fairyland of fjords. We drove towards Borganes through scenic countryside,passing a hot spring that supplies water to two towns,60 km distant. A boiling 100 degrees Celsius at source,the piped water is delivered at 80 degrees Celsius. Along Borgarorour,the land was littered with slumberous volcanoes; some could awake any moment. Of Icelands 20 active volcanoes,the notorious 1,491-metre Heklas last seizure was in 2000,after a gap of only nine years.
We turned right on Route 54 towards a fjord populated with eider ducks,prized for their breast feathers. The road climbed higher,clutching the mountainside. On our left was the mighty icecap Snaefellsjokull,a 1,446-metre-high volcano with a glacier flowing down from its unseen summit in the clouds. Snaefellsjokull is one of the seven most potent power points on earth and every summer,mystics congregate here to absorb its energies. The area is the nesting ground of Arctic Tern,the champion nomad that flies from the Arctic to the Antarctic and back again,journeying 19,000 km each year.

Our last stop was a natural soda spring,a deathly basin of lichen-covered black lava rocks massed tomblike on top of each other. I hurried to catch up with Stefan on the trackless terrain,treading through the wild tussock,jumping from one mossy rock to another and walking gingerly across snowbridges on cold streams. Near a waterfall that came hurtling out of a gap between two craggy cliffs was the soda spring. A small gap in the ground,the spring was surrounded by reddish rocks topped with snow. Stefan stretched himself on the rocks and lowering his face into the spring,had his fill. Likewise,I had two small gulps.
Suddenly,the weather turned wicked. A blizzard hit us. We hurried back to the parked car. In an instant,everything turned white,leaving no trace of our steps. The whipping wind and the blinding snow wiped out the scenery.

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FAST FACTS
Getting there
Theres no direct flight from India. The best connection to Keflavik is from London.
Best time to visit
Summer May-August; gives you brighter and longer days
What to buy
Eiderdown pillows,woollen sweaters and socks,lava necklaces,lamps and ashtrays,putrefied shark meat,reindeer meat,brennevin schnapps,cod liver oil
What to do
Pub crawl on weekend,swim in Blue Lagoon,discover lava fields and glaciers on snow scooters and super jeeps with huge 38 tyres,climb up a volcano,look for the Northern Lights,go whale-watching
Where to stay
Radisson Blue Saga Hotel is set outside the university campus in Reykjavik. Great views. If planning a night halt outside the capital,try the tasteful Hotel Buoir with awesome views of Snaefelljokull glacier.