In the Snæfellsnes peninsula, where we took a detour on our way to the Westfjords, is a beautiful old fishing village called Stykkishólmur. We stopped off for lunch where I had the biggest mussels I’ve ever seen. They were delicious. Then, I wandered down to the harbor for a few photos before continuing on our way.
Jokulsarlon is a large glacial lagoon in South East Iceland. Here, huge icebergs carve off of the glacier and head for the ocean. The lagoons exit is narrow and the glacier’s are bottlenecked here. They have to shrink in size before they make their way through the gap and out to sea. Once there, some of them are forced back onto the beach by the waves. It’s an incredible place, and I’ll definitely be making my way back there again.
This small chunk of ice is all that’s left of one of the great bergs that made it’s way out to sea only to get washed up on the shore again. The ice comes in a few different colours. Some are crystal clear, some are black due to volcanic ash deposits. This one is an example of the amazing pale blue glow many of the bergs possess.
This photo makes me want to get back to Iceland as soon as possible. The plan for my next trip is to turn up there for a longer period of time with a tent and not much of a plan. I want to wander, go to where the good light is and wait for the good light in places that deserve it. There seems to be campsites everywhere in Iceland so finding somewhere to crash should be easy as plugging campsite into the satnav.
This shot is from my first night in Iceland. After arriving at midnight, I discovered that this beach was just a short walk from the guesthouse I stayed in. It was handily scouted by my travel buddy who had arrived a day earlier. The lighthouse is actually no longer used so it seems fitting to leave it in the dark. A newer one is located just off to the right. You’ll get to see photos of it one day as well.
Camera: Canon 5d Mk II
Lens: EF24-70mm f/2.8L USM
ISO: 100
Exposure: 1.6, 6, and 25 at f/18
Taking the Photo: I wandered the beach searching for a good foreground for this shot. The rocks looked promising and when I stumbled across this patch of larger, moss drenched stones I set up my tripod. The camera was placed at about half my height to get close to the rocks and capture the detail in the moss. You’ll have to click the image and view it larger to see the details. I actually shot bracketed shots from -4 to +4 because the sunset was so intense behind the lighthouse. As you can see above, I only went with -2 to +2, which I’ll explain next.
Processing: This is one of those photos that I’ve tried to process numerous times but failed. I have a similar shot, here, that I was never quite happy with. The sky and the lighthouse just never looked quite right. I felt like I was sacrificing colors and detail in the sky to bring out details in the lighthouse, which just blended into the sky. This time, I took a different approach and decided to let the lighthouse remain as a silhouette. The rocks in the foreground are much more interesting than the details of the lighthouse anyway. Now, I’m very happy with this shot.
I probably could have achieved this affect with an off camera flash, which I don’t yet own. One of the useful parts of HDR is that you can adjust your lighting once you’ve gotten home. Of course, this has limitations so I’m planning on buying a couple of off camera flashes and figuring out how to use them. That way, in a situation like this I could take my usual bracketed photos, but also use a bit of flash. Then, I can just use whichever method worked out better and maybe save me a bit of head-scratching once I get home.
Software: Photomatix, Photoshop, Topaz Adjust, Noiseware Pro
On my way to snorkel the rift I spotted this waterfall over a ridge. Following our swim I decided to go up and take a closer look. I’m glad I did. It was a really peaceful scene as the sun set. I decided to shoot a panorama and fired off 7 shots, each bracketed at -2, 0, +2 so this photo is the result of combining 21 pictures together.
This was the very last place I visited in Iceland. We were tired, hungry and somehow it was 3 in the morning. We considered turning back. I’m glad we didn’t. While I want to go back there and capture this incredible waterfall under better conditions it was well worth pushing on to see it. It’s massive, and seems to fall forever into a tear in the earth’s surface. We were able to walk right the way around it and, once again, were the only people there.
This may be my favorite waterfall in Iceland. It’s isolated in the Skaftafel National Park, about an hours hike from the parking lot. We went there at about midnight, in the rain, and seemed to be the only people about. It’s a trickle compared to the more dramatic torrents at Godafoss and Gullfoss, but there’s something special about the way the thin stream of water spreads out as it plunges into a deep pool. It’s very soft and delicate, but surrounded by harsh decaying hexagonal columns of granite.
Taking this photo was interesting. The stream was about a foot deep but had a few loose rocks strewn about. I found three rocks in positions to accommodate each of my tripods feet and another one I could stand on. Then, I realised that I needed to keep the rain off my lens so had to call my travel buddy into the river with me, with her umbrella. We were stood, teetering on a rock, holding onto each-other for balance, when the only two people we saw the whole time we were there decided to turn up. Fortunately, they were photographers and didn’t seem phased by our odd positioning.
After a long night taking photos my travel buddy decided she was hungry. So, rather than heading back to our hostel for some much needed rest we made our way to Husavik to sleep in a car park for a couple of hours while we waited for somewhere serving breakfast to open. I didn’t get much sleep, but after trying to nod off I decided to go for a walk. We’d left from this marina to go whale watching and I liked the old fashioned boats inhabiting it. So, I made my way back there and took a few more photos for the night.
In a gas station near Godafoss I saw a tacky souvenir t-shirt, and for the first time I wanted one. It had two kids hugging a sheep on the front with Iceland written above it. I’m not sure why, maybe I was fatigued, but I found it hilarious. Unfortunately, it only came in children’s sizes. So, I’ve got this photo instead.
As you reach the crest of the cliffs overlooking Hafragilfoss it would be difficult to categorise the view in front of you as beautiful. Jaw dropping is far more appropriate. The view before you, atop that cliff, is of a rugged landscape. A gorge bore out by flowing water. The waterfall’s roar can be heard even from this distance and the mist of Dettifoss can be seen rising into the sky just around the bend up river. Below Hafragilfoss, the milky river swirls with crystal blue as the pure, clean waters of a nearby spring merge with silty run off. The best part is, the fact that you’ve made your way up the rugged dirt road at 2 in the morning means you have the whole place to yourself.
As a testament to just how incredible the waterfalls are in Iceland, this 27 meters tall, 91 meters wide, waterfall isn’t even considered one of the must-sees!
I’m not sure why, but I decided to treat the Twitter-verse to a play by play as I processed this one. I have no idea if it will be interesting to anyone but think I’ll keep doing it from time to time. Purely because I feel a bit like I have this underutilized Twitter account. You can follow me there if you like: @TraverseEarth. If you’ve got some time to kill feel free to read over tonight’s ramblings. If anyone finds them at all interesting, I can try to make a habit of it.
This photo was taken at the end of my first full night in Iceland. The sun was just peaking over the mountains behind us and turning everything we could see a beautiful golden hue. I liked the way the road peaked in and out of view as it wound through the fjord. I do wonder if I’d have gotten a slightly better vantage point if I’d climbed on top of the jeep, though.
