Waters of Iceland
(Winter Edition)
What stories of a place come to life from the waters that flow through it?
“What part of Eyjafjallajökull do you not understand?” This phrase was seen on a souvenir magnet at a gift shop in Iceland’s capital city of Reykjavik. And it perfectly captures the humour of one of the local guides as he tried to get us to pronounce this Icelandic name during a free walking tour of the city.
‘Eyjafjallajökull’ gained international limelight in 2010 when its volcanic eruptions and the resulting ash cloud brought European air travel to a standstill, while reporters across the globe struggled to pronounce this in the correct Icelandic way. But behind this seemingly complex name is a simple yet evocative meaning – “the glacier on island mountains” (Eyja = islands, fjalla = mountains, jökull = glacier).
Glaciers like this become part of one of Iceland’s most striking and cherished features – its water.
Water in its many forms.
Right from the ocean surrounding this island country to its many waterfalls, geysers, hot springs, ice caves, snow, glaciers, and at times, a whole lot of rain as well! But even on cold and wet winter days, when the sun barely manages to grace the land with four hours of daylight, nothing stops each form of water from showing off its unique self.
THE ROCK SOLIDS
As time passes by and the once ‘fresh’ snow lies cold and undisturbed – not melting, not moving – nature takes over with another fresh round of snow and packs down what lies beneath to ice. Centuries of weighing down the old snow gradually gives birth to glaciers. Locked within these rock solid glaciers is three-fourths of the world’s freshwater. And Iceland is home to over 250 of those glaciers, covering more than a tenth of the country’s landmass.
This Nordic country’s mountainous glaciers proudly adorn multi-layered stripes, silently speaking to their age-old formation stories. Each stripe representing a different period of snowfall. A pale or white stripe is characteristic of the colder weather snow that has air trapped within its fallen ice crystals. Darker, blue stripes are distinctive of layers of snow that fell during relatively warmer conditions but with no trapped air. And the black stripes typical of glaciers covering volcanoes, where ash from previous volcanic eruptions forms another layer over the snow, displaying alternate ice and ash layers.
As some of the snow and ice melts, the flowing water gradually carves openings and sculpts caves into these glaciers, where the temperature remains below zero throughout the year. Yet within these dark, frigid enclosures, the walls glisten in their wet smoothness and the dripping water somewhere along the icy floor breaks the eerie quietness. Almost unbeknownst to one, the melting glacial waters subtly change the shape of the caves year after year. And just like that the centuries-old ice seems alive.
About 45 minutes from the small town of Vik in southern Iceland, sits the Katla glacier cave. The charry sand-path that leads to the cave and the black layers of the cave walls serve as a reminder of the large volcano that the mother glacier covers. And in those memories, you can subconsciously sense the heat of the fiery lava and the chill of the stone-cold ice moulding together.
As majestic as these glaciers are, they seem to stand little chance against the warmer climatic conditions, melting rapidly over the last hundred years. One such retreating glacier has however found itself in the books of natural wonders, by partially crumbling and melting its way into a mystical glacier lagoon.
The Jökulsárlón (translated as ‘glacial river lagoon’) started forming only in the 1930’s with the help of the melting glacial waters and floating icebergs that are actually broken chunks from the Breiðarmerkurjökull glacier (an outlet of the largest ice cap in Iceland, Vatnajökull). While the lagoon itself is relatively recent, it is now the country’s deepest lake (at 248m) and the ice floating on the waters is at least 1000 years old.
But what elevates its stardom are the surreal, naturally sculpted, electric-blue ice structures that render the landscape quite otherworldly.
Hidden in plain sight of this gorgeous, spell-binding scene is a darker, ominous reality of the effects of global warming. The lagoon continues to grow in size as more of the glacier breaks off. Such rapidly receding glaciers impact not just continued access to fresh water and renewable energy, but also affect the ability to keep the volcanoes cool without erupting. As the alarm bells continue to ring, collective efforts are required to protect the glaciers and its glacial rivers.
THE FREE FALLERS
Iceland’s abundance of snow, ice and rain and its continuous cycle of melting and freezing on the mountains gave birth to the country’s numerous waterfalls. While chasing these waterfalls, it’s hard not to get drawn into searching for gods, giants and gold hidden in local myths and legends behind these free-falling waters.
One such waterfall is the Skógafoss (translated as ‘Forest Falls’), carrying the glacial waters from Eyjafjallajökull and Myrdalsjökull. Walking right up to the top, one can see the Skógá river flowing through the remote grassy lands and making its mighty 60m drop.
Partially shrouded in its own misty sprays, the enigma of this waterfall has found a place in local folklore. Legend has it that the area’s first Viking settler and powerful sorcerer, Þrasi Þórólfsson, hid a treasure chest in the falls. As the story goes, years later in the 1600’s, three brothers decided to retrieve this chest. While they were said to have found it, in their attempt to haul the chest out the water, they only managed to pull out one of its golden handle rings, leaving behind the rest of the chest to descend deeper into the waterfall. The supposed chest ring, later housed on the local church door, is now displayed in the Skogar Museum. And to date, it is believed the mystery chest lies in the depths waiting to be found.
Just half an hour away is another gorgeous waterfall, Seljelandfoss (translated as ‘selling the land of waterfalls’). Its waters originate from the Eyjafjallajökull glacier, flowing as the Seljalandsá river to fall over the overhanging cliff, where one can walk behind the falls. Like Skogafoss, the cliffs of Seljelandfoss were once part of Iceland’s coastline and the waters flowed into the Atlantic Ocean. Over time, this coastline has shifted further out.
With a similar tale to that of Skogafoss, is another waterfall in southwest Iceland, the Gullfoss (the ‘Golden Waterfall’). Located in the Haukadalur Valley, on the Hvítá river canyon, the water originates from Iceland’s second-largest glacier, Langjökull. This cottony waterfall cascades in two tiers with a cumulative height of 32m. Although not as high as some others, it’s the breadth of the waterfall that takes one’s breath away. As one fable goes, Gygur, a wealthy farmer, who wanted to protect his wealth even after his death decided to throw his treasure chest with gold into the Gulfoss, where it is said to still remain. It is this story that some attribute to the waterfall getting its name.
As awe-striking as these waterfalls are, they have also been points of heated debates. Between those who want to preserve the natural beauty and those who want to leverage the hydroelectric and economic potential these waters hold. Attached to the Gullfoss is a story that points to the rise of environmentalism in the country. In an effort to protect the magnificent waterfalls from being a site of an hydroelectric dam in the early 1900’s, the raw and passionate activism of one woman, Sigríður Tómasdóttir, went a long way to keep the falls standing as it is now. Often touted as Iceland’s first environmentalist, she sometimes walked 120kms from her farm-base to Reykjavik to make her case before the government. Over the years, such activism has known both gains and losses but continues with the same determination.
THE STEAMERS
Unlike the chill that is often associated with its name, Iceland’s unique location over the meeting point of two tectonic plates has allowed for a number of hot springs, geothermal pools and geysers to find a home there. With the volcanic activity underground, the naturally heated waters are not only a source of renewable energy, but also feed into the culture of warm bathing as a way of healing.
Wisps of steam curl up from the waters of Iceland’s natural hot springs and pools that are often tucked in lava fields. Rich with minerals, the geothermal waters are said to carry healing properties for the skin. It is said that the search for gold was slowly abandoned when the geothermal waters were discovered. In fact, the name Reykjavik (translated as ‘bay of smoke/steam’) is said to have been inspired by the steam arising from the hot springs in the area.
While some of these hot springs offer the right amount of heat, it cannot be said the same for others. Located in the Haukadalur Valley is ‘Geysir’ – a name derived from the Icelandic verb for ‘gush / erupt’. Interestingly, it is from this name that we get the English term ‘geyser’. While this geyser has stopped erupting for a number of years, its neighbouring Stokkur, erupts every 6-10 minutes.
Tapping such natural resources, Iceland has become a pioneer in using geothermal energy for household heating and electricity.
THE FLOWING ONES
Sitting south of the Arctic Ocean and on the northern part of the Atlantic Ocean, there seems to be ample opportunities for one to build and maintain deep linkages to the oceans, lakes and bays surrounding Iceland.
Balancing a delicate connection between nature and human developments is Tjörnin, a shallow lake set in the heart of Reykjavik. The name stems from an Old Norse term, tjörn, meaning mountain lake. The lake was once connected to the ocean, but is said to have become separated in 800s due to a gravel barrier, and soon after became the hub for future settlements. And before the age of refrigeration, the ice from the lake (often referred to as ‘the pond’) was harvested by fishermen to keep their catch fresh.
From Reykjavik and along the coasts, the water continues to build its character, displaying some of its most thrilling features at the Reynisfjara Black Sand Beach. The ocean unleashes its power here in the form of huge sneaker waves that suddenly and unsuspectingly appear along the shore. As the ocean floor deepens quite rapidly from the coastline, these waves emerge fast and furious just before hitting the shore, making it one of the most dangerously beautiful spots.
Reynisfjara is also an almost perfect embodiment of the intricate relationship between the nation’s volcanic history and its waters. Centuries ago when the hot molten lava from the Katla volcano eruption collided with the cold waters of the Atlantic Ocean, it quickly cooled and solidified to form black rocks. These rocks eroded over time to yield Reynisfjara its distinctive black sand. Today, the ocean water caresses the black beach as rich milky froth.
THE PLACE OF WATER
There lies beauty in something so pure and simple such as water. Whether it’s the white waterfalls that make its surrounding landscape beam in a reddish brown tan, or the floating chunks of icebergs that emanate an ethereal blue radiance. Or even the unexpected warmth of the waters bubbling beneath on a chilly day, or the volcanic-mineral-rich, black sand beaches that made the ebbing waves look like frothy cream. Iceland brings to life this truly magical dance of fire and water.
Water has become an integral part of Icelandic nature, culture and heritage, shaping its iconic landscapes and coastlines, fueling its fishing, hydroelectric and geothermal industries, and even offering a whimsical premise to its many sagas. Water has earned a deep sense of cultural respect, calling for those near and far to protect and preserve its essence.
Travel Tips
Tip for the Open-Minded Traveler
Note the different natural and man-made bodies of water in the place you are visiting (i.e. waterfalls, glaciers, lakes, pools, etc.). Chat with locals or read up about some of their names, formation stories, associated myths. etc.
Tip for the Curious Traveler
Dig into how the presence of water bodies has influenced local industries, cultural practices and social preferences in the place you are visiting (e.g. impact on type of foods, sports & recreation activities, tourism, power generation, etc.).
Tip for the Reflective Traveler
Think about how climate change or regional economic pursuits are shaping the different water bodies in the place where you live or are visiting? To what extent is that impacting the local society’s value and respect for water (as seen through household habits, conservation practices, advocacy, etc.)?