adventure, camping, Champagne Bucket trips, Iceland

Our first Icelandic adventure: Journey to the Highlands! (part seven)

In the late afternoon of September 1, Bill, Ivar, and I landed at Hotel Klaustur, a pleasant hotel in Kirkjubaejarklaustur. This was the one hotel Ivar stayed in with us. It was the least fancy of the five hotels we visited, although it was perfectly fine for a night. I was just happy to see that it had a bar, because after all of the traipsing around in the wind and rain, I really needed a drink. Ivar had suggested stopping for a short hike to a waterfall, but I was cold and wet and not in the mood. I noticed neither he nor Bill objected when I said I’d rather not.

After we checked in to the hotel, I ended up making our dinner reservations, because Bill had urgent personal business to attend to. When the guy asked how many would be dining, I looked at Ivar, mainly because I didn’t want to be rude. And he, probably just as eager not to be rude, quickly said he was going to be dining with friends in town. I have a feeling that might have been a “white lie”, since I noticed the Land Cruiser in the parking lot while we were having dinner. But then, he could have walked or maybe his friends picked him up… Either way, it was no big deal, as I could certainly understand a guide wanting to take a few hours away from their clients.

Bill and I enjoyed a drink in the bar area. I had an Irish coffee that really hit the spot. Bill had a beer. We heard many American voices, especially when we sat down to dinner. I was a little crabby because I think I just wanted a quiet dinner, but everyone was seated in a sunroom, rather than in the larger dining room. The food was okay, although it wasn’t really my favorite of what we had on this trip. I have a feeling there aren’t a lot of nice hotels in the area, but I can’t confirm it.

After dinner, we went to our room, which Bill really had to push hard to get into. He was confused at first, and actually went to reception, where he was told he had to put his shoulder into opening the door. I was glad to see an extra pillow on a stand near the door, because the bed was made up in a style we’ve come to know in German gasthouses. But it had everything we needed, and we were soon watching the end of a movie with Heath Ledger in it. I wasn’t familiar with Ledger when he was still alive, but I can see why he was so famous. He was quite a hottie… and he had a lot of charisma. He reminded me of a filled out Andy Gibb. 😀 Below are a few photos of our room and the hotel itself.

In the morning, we saw Ivar in the restaurant. He invited us to sit with him, which we did. We bonded a little more. I think he was amused when Bill brought me a cappuccino without being asked. For some reason, Bill is very invested in making sure I drink coffee. When we met, I wasn’t that much of a coffee fan. Even today, I could take it or leave it, although I do like really good coffee. Bill needs it every day, and it’s the one thing I join him in, even if sometimes I’d rather have hot chocolate.

Ivar told us that where we were going in the Highlands is short on restaurants or other food sources. We would stop at a convenience store before leaving the area to stock up on water and snacks, and hopefully the “mini mall”, where we were headed, might be open for business. Fair enough. It turned out the snacks weren’t necessary, but they came in handy later.

This part of the trip is where the weather started to improve. I was continually stunned by how beautiful the landscapes of Iceland are, and the many vibrant colors in every place we visited. Even in the rain, Iceland is extraordinary. But it’s more enjoyable for me when it’s not raining… and on Monday, the rain finally let up a bit for us.

Bill loads up on snacks for us…
That step stool was a Godsend.

I took a whole lot of photos and a few videos as we headed into the Highlands…

A short video offering an idea of what the landscape looked like.

As we were making our way into the wilderness, Ivar explained that in the summer, sheep are allowed to run wild in the hills and mountains. Then, in the fall, they are rounded up and brought back to civilization. The lambs are taken for slaughter. Supposedly, Icelandic lamb is among the best in the world. I don’t like lamb myself, so I wouldn’t know. Bill does like it and he said it was very good. Anyway, during our visit, the sheep were still running free, but it’s about time for them to be rounded up by their respective owners. They are identified by markings left by the farmers.

Continuing on, we passed several deserted shacks, which Ivar said are used by the rangers who stay in the park for a couple of weeks at a time. We eventually stopped at a parking area, where there was a female ranger on duty. She informed Ivar that the WC wasn’t working, so Bill and I ended up finding a bush. Ivar laughed and said that Americans are always so private about peeing, while Icelanders are fine with just letting ‘er rip. Germans are pretty much the same way. When you gotta go, you gotta go.

We took a short hike that perhaps would have been longer if we (or I) had been fitter. I could have gone longer, to be honest. But it was just as well that we didn’t take a longer hike, because the day was very full, anyway. Below are some photos from our entry to the Highlands:

I found this part of the trip mesmerizing. It looked like something out of a different world, with happy sheep all over the place, peacefully grazing with no worries about predators. Ivar told us the only animal native to Iceland are Arctic foxes. Every once in awhile, a polar bear from Greenland might try to venture close. When they do, if they are spotted, they are usually shot by the authorities. Some reindeer were also introduced, although a lot of them died. The ones that survived are still around. I saw reindeer offered on a menu at a subsequent hotel.

After our brief hike, we got back into the Land Cruiser and continued on to a campground called Landmannalaugar, where there was a natural hot spring, bathroom facilities, and the aforementioned “mini mall.” To be honest, I didn’t find the campground that beautiful, but it was a very interesting stop. A lot of people go to this camp so they can hike the Fjallabak Nature Reserve.

The first thing we did was use the WC, which was very much a communal affair with many signs advising users what not to put in the toilets. Then we visited the natural hot spring. Some people were bathing in it. I was content to just crouch down and touch the water, which was fairly warm, but not that hot. After that, Ivar asked if we wanted to visit the “mini mall.” We agreed, so off we went… and that’s where we encountered a guy named Alex who cooks hot dogs and does boat tours from Iceland to Greenland.

Alex and his colleague(s) work out of several green US school busses that make up a small restaurant and shop. I got a kick out of one of the busses, because it was a Blue Bird Bus, probably made in my mom’s hometown of Buena Vista, Virginia. We made the mistake of going into the restaurant part of the “mini mall” first, and Alex kindly asked us to visit the first bus, make our orders and pay, then bring him the receipt. He also asked me to bring him a six pack of Stella Artois and promised me a freebie from the pack!

So we went into the little shop in the first bus and ordered hot dogs with cheese. Later, I told Bill I wished I’d gotten the hot dog without the cheese, since it was a little “musty”. Both Ivar and Bill were surprised, since they hadn’t tasted the cheese at all. We asked the shop dude for the six pack of beer. I noticed he was selling coffee to people and prompting them to buy shots of Bailey’s Irish Cream. They were doing a brisk business!

We went back into the bus where Alex was working. A female couple were there joking around with him. It turned out they knew him from his other business, sailing people from Iceland to Greenland. Alex is apparently popular on Instagram and has a business called The Laid-Back Company. After talking to him, I can see why he named his business that. He was quite a character. Dirty jokes were flying as we enjoyed the hot dogs. One of the women, who turned out to be from Alaska, presented Alex with a gift she’d brought back… it appeared to be some kind of baton. Alex asked if it was a dildo. She said it was a whale penis, and she was afraid it was going to be confiscated before she could present it to him!

Alex invited us to pick up a couple of stickers from the first bus, after he handed me the aforementioned free beer. I guess he figured we were laid back enough to join his laid back boat tour! The woman who gave him the gift said she loved Alex’s boat tour because he interviews all participants before the trip and makes sure they will be compatible with everyone. I will admit, it did sound like an interesting concept, and they were obviously very happy with Alex’s services. Maybe if we ever plan to go to Greenland, we’ll look into it, although if I know myself, I think I might get irritated by the non-stop dirty jokes. I do like jokes, but I have limits. As we were leaving, Alex was talking about a polar bear rug he had somehow acquired and was planning to hang on his wall. It was probably the right time for us to be going! Below are some photos from our stop at Landmannalaugar.

I enjoyed meeting the folks at the “mini mall”, and they gave me a surge of energy for our next stop of Lekafossar… an incredible waterfall system that wasn’t too far away. That was a good thing, since it had started raining again and was getting cold and windy. I’m still so glad we stopped here for this:

As beautiful as those waterfalls are in my pictures, they were even more beautiful from our vantage point. But we couldn’t stay long, because the skies were darkening. So we climbed back into the Land Cruiser and continued our journey toward Hotel Geysir, our Monday night accommodations. On the way there, we stopped for one more waterfall… Unfortunately, I don’t know what this one is called. I’ll see if I can find the name of it and will update accordingly, if I am successful.

Well, this post is now pretty long, so I think I’ll end here and pick up in the next post with our check in to Hotel Geysir. See you in the next part!

Standard
camping, United States

A random travel memory from my youth…

Warning: this is kind of a horrifying story about a trip I took to the Eastern Shore when I was about ten years old. It was originally posted on the Blogspot version of my Overeducated Housewife blog. I would put it on my newer WordPress version of that blog, but when it comes down to it, this is a travel story… and this blog needs some love. So here’s my mortifying camping story from the 80s. It’s not for the faint of heart!

The featured photo is of a 1977 Volkswagen Westfalia camper van. My dad had one exactly like it back in the early 80s. In fact, this guy’s video below shows a van that looks very much like the one my dad had, right down to the green plaid upholstery. Wonder if it also smells like pancake syrup, like my dad’s van did… When the top wasn’t popped, I could swing on the bar used to push up the camper top as we cruised down the interstates. In those days, kids didn’t have to be strapped down.

Here goes…

Back in the early 80s, when I was about nine years old, I went with a friend to Annapolis, Maryland.  I stayed with her and her grandparents for about a week.  Then my parents picked me up and we drove back to Virginia by way of the Eastern Shore.  I seem to remember stopping in Chincoteague and Assateague, where there are wild ponies. 

Being a horse crazy kid, I was pretty excited about visiting there.  My dad was driving an ugly, bright orange, VW van with a popup top.  I remember spending the night in it at a campground in Maryland.  The next morning, my dad decided he wanted to go swimming in the pool.  I went with him.  Unbeknownst to us, the pool was closed, but for some reason, we were able to access it.

After a few minutes, my dad got out of the pool, but left me in the water.  Next thing I know, I hear this old man yell “Hey!  What’s that kid doing in the pool?!” 

I quickly got out.  He confronted me, asking what I was doing swimming.  I told him my dad had gone swimming and I was with him.  The guy said, “Oh, so your father can’t read either?  There’s no swimming when no one’s around!”  In retrospect, I realize that guy was unnecessarily mean to me, but at the time, I was really humiliated and upset.  I’m sure he yelled at me because he was worried about liability, but as a young girl, I didn’t know about such things.  He made me cry.

Mortified by the man’s sharp words, I ran back to the camper, where I refused to sit on a seat, lest someone see me.  My parents took me to breakfast at a Hardee’s.  Because it was late morning, I wanted a cheeseburger, but they weren’t serving them and my dad said, “This is one of those places where you have to order what they want to serve you at the time they want to serve it.”  

My parents hadn’t seen the guy yell at me, and when I told my dad about it, he kind of blew it off.  I stayed upset, though, because it was his fault I was in the water in the first place.  And hell, he hadn’t even gotten me out of the water when he decided to get out himself.  As an adult, I realize how stupid that was.  Nowadays, someone might have called CPS.  Fortunately, the only harm was my extreme embarrassment and shame.

Later that day, we went to Assateague and Chincoteague. I remember going to the beach at Assateague, marveling at how much less crowded it was than Virginia Beach usually is. We drove through the national park and picked up a book about the wild ponies, though I don’t remember if I actually saw any. I did have a friend in school who owned a Chincoteague pony and used to win a lot of awards with her in barrel racing. Then later, we visited a water slide… the very first one I had ever been on in my lifetime, at that point.

It was a pretty cool slide and I couldn’t wait to get on it.  As I was about to sit down, I slipped and went down backwards.  I was terrified, but apparently going down backwards impressed a bunch of people, including a cute teenaged boy who congratulated me for my “bravery”, even though I had only gone down backwards because I’d totally slipped and fallen.  The water slide fame made up for the scary encounter with the campground guy.

Over the years, I remembered that trip so fondly. Even the campground was kind of fun… at least before the guy yelled at me. I haven’t been able to visit Chincoteague or Assateague since then, but I always fantasized about going back, and maybe riding the slide again.

Don’t read any further if you’re squeamish…

Years later, I wondered about that water slide. Out of a sense of nostalgia, I went looking for evidence that it still existed. I finally found it when I read a story about the man who had owned the slide at a water park he and a friend had opened called “Wet & Wild”.

Turns out he was a sex offender named James Jenkins, and years after the water slide closed, he got caught molesting a 13 year old girl. That, in and of itself might be shocking, except for the fact that Jenkins was so upset about his uncontrollable urges to molest little girls that, in 2003, he decided to castrate himself with a razor while taking a shower in jail. He’d asked a guard for a razor so he could be clean shaven for court the next day. The guard had hesitated, but then gave him the razor. Jenkins put an apple in his mouth to muffle his screams and tied a shoelace around his scrotum as he removed his own testicles. Having cut them off, he then flushed them down a toilet in the jail.

Needless to say, I was shocked to read about that.  At the time that I found the news story, it was the only thing I could find that mentioned the 80s era water slide in Chincoteague that I remembered so well.  I don’t think the slide is still in existence.  I’ve looked for pictures or mentions of it.  I’m pretty positive that Jenkins’ slide was the one we visited because, at the time, it was the only slide in the area.  

So, on that trip to Chincoteague on the way home, not only did I get yelled at by a scary, mean old man at a campground, but I also visited a water slide owned by a pervert.  And not only was the guy a pervert, but he later actually took it upon himself to cut off his own balls with a razor and flush them down the toilet. The up side to this story is, Jenkins later said that castrating himself “saved him” from his obsessions.

And all those years, I thought it was the mean guy at the campground who was offensive.

I’m glad childhood is over.

Standard