Lake Como is a really interesting place and I wish I’d been able to spend more time there. The lake is surrounded by towering mountains rising directly from the water’s surface. Villages are, therefore terraced up the slopes. I thought this one was particularly interesting. There was a dock at water level, but the village didn’t seem to start until quite high up the hill.
With no music to cut the silence, and my travel buddy passed out next to me, I navigated our little white jeep up and down meandering switchback after meandering switchback. Having only made it half way from our hostel to Latrabjarg, we tucked tail and made our way home for fear of running out of gas. Our first night in Iceland taught us a lesson. If the GPS says it will take 4 hours, it will take ten. The roads are rough, but the real reason is that the beautiful scenery begs you to stop after every bend.
I’d struggled to find a groove on this drive, as I so often do when I dust off the photography skills in a new destination. Then, the sun began to reverse its brief dip just below the horizon and something magical happened. A soft light bathed the landscape, bursting through gaps in the cloud to the north. The birds began to awaken and fill the air with song. Approaching a bend, ascending out of another fjord I suddenly found inspiration. The serenity of the moment seemed to be summed up in the single view captured below. Huge cliffs sat peacefully in the distance as a road twisted and turned its way along the edge of the fjords. There wasn’t another car or person in sight. I’d just driven that stretch, and there was a long way to go until I’d reach a bed, but I had to stop, step out in the cold, and mount my camera atop my tripod and try to do the view before me justice.
You might recognize this gorilla. It’s featured in a previous post in a very similar photo (Chomp,Chomp,Chomp,Chomp). I couldn’t decide which one I liked more so I processed both of them. Let me know which one you like more in the comments section.
I’ve written about this bridge before (Rickety Bridge, Iceland), but I wanted to show you this view because it raises a couple of questions:
Question 1: It looks pretty old and rickety, is it safe?
Answer 1: Yes, I crossed it a couple of times. I wasn’t thrilled about having to go across it the first time but an error that resulted in my bag staying in frame for the photo posted previously meant I had to nervously tip-toe back and forth an extra time.
Question 2: Why is there a bridge here?
Answer 2 (kind of): I have no idea. The volcano is a long way off, you certainly wouldn’t want to walk it. On top of that, there’s no path on the other side. It appeared to be an island in the middle of the river with nothing but overgrown brush covering it. I doubt the bridge was built for no reason, so it must be a bridge to somewhere, but where? It makes me wonder if the scene takes some completely different appearance in another season.
Is it farmed at some point?
Does it turn into a carpet of wild flowers?
Could it be a great place to watch birds?
Who knows?
I don’t.
Once I got the weather I was after at Horseshoe I took quite a few pictures from the top of the rock there. Here’s another one, taken as the sun climbs a bit higher through the haze, spilling golden rays across the light pink sand and adding an extra glow to the cool turquoise water.
If you’ve been wondering when I’m going to add the next installment of my HDR tutorial I’ve got good news for you! It’s online now: HDR Tutorial 2. In this section I go through the Photomatix portion of producing an HDR image, where the three exposures are combined into one image.
If you follow my site regularly you’ll probably recognize the spring in Acqui Terme. I spent a long time waiting for that patch of blue sky amongst the gloomy overcast sky to make it’s way into frame. Once it did I fired off a few shots from different angles. This one shows the detail of the cobbles in front of the spring.
I came across this farm in the Lake Myvatn region. It was about 11:00 when we got here. As you can see from the clouds we were in for a gloomy rainy night. That’s alright though, it suited the volcanic landscapes we were just about to drive into.
We needed to make a decision. The river branched off to the right, but our guide informed us it was a dead end and led the rest of the group to the left. Up ahead, I could see a number of animals by the water’s edge, including a couple of warthogs, right where the group was heading. It gave me the feeling that if we went right, when the animals got spooked by the rest of the group, they’d run past us. Also, I’d discovered on this trip that warthogs may be my favourite animal in the world. I don’t think anyone could not look at a warthog and smile. They’re funny little creatures, that just about live up to their portrayal in The Lion King. Although, I get the feeling the real ones are a little bit smarter than Pumba.
So, we went right, and paddled hard to get up enough speed to beat the group to the point where the two stretches of water nearly met. We were careful to stop paddling and glide quietly onto the beach, bringing the nose of the canoe up onto the sand so as not to send any animals scampering. Sure enough, as the group passed, the warthogs were first to get spooked and ran back into the brush, taking a route just in front of the nose of our canoe. I fired off a few photos frantically and got the one below.
Now came the tricky part of catching up to the group. Fortunately, on the way into the little inlet, about 2 thirds of the way down, I’d spotted a shortcut. The spit of land dividing this section of the water from the main river narrowed to about a canoe’s length. Again, we paddled hard, but didn’t glide in gently this time. We rammed the shore sliding up as far onto the shore as we could. As I was in the front I hopped out. The water was deep enough to disguise a crocodile so Chris couldn’t get out until I pulled the canoe in far enough. Then we quickly slid it across and I hopped back in as Chris pushed me out into the river and jumped in the back. We were safely back with the group.
At the end of a morning out, I was on my way back to the hotel when I spotted this rundown old villa tucked off the roads amongst the vineyards. I pulled over and discovered that the building and trees framed the remnants of sunrise perfectly. So, I set up for the shot.
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.
