Here’s another shot of Gullfoss, right on the edge where the water tumbles down into a giant chasm. I saw a picture from a similar view to this one today, but in winter. It looked incredible. I think I’ll have to brave the cold to experience Iceland in winter, with the aurora borealis and the ice caves accessible!
I found out, on Twitter, that a fellow traveler, Suzy Guese, has a weekly competition for travel bloggers. For a week, she views submissions from all over the world and then chooses five of them. I decided to give it a shot by providing a link to one of my earliest posts, from Zambia. Check it out, along with four other exciting travel stories and follow her for a weekly dose of travel writing:
Suzy Stumbles Over Travel: Week of November 26, 2012
This is another photo of Svartifoss from the “nearly falling in the water” series. My travel partner and I clutched onto each other as we teetered on minimal boulder real estate. She held the umbrella, I worked the camera. There were a few errors resulting in half the umbrella breaking into the frame and the tripod inadvertently getting kicked after somebody slipped. I won’t say who. We were in this awkward position when two other photographers turned up with tripods in tow. They didn’t choose to balance themselves in the middle of the river while trying to operate an umbrella, camera, and prevent each-other from falling into the chilly current like we did. I think it was worth it. At the very least, it was good fun.
I’ve been talking with my travel buddy a lot today about our future plans. We’re confident that we’ll be going to Livingstone and the Victoria falls. This will be my second visit and her first. As you may be aware the last time I was there I went swimming in the Devil’s Pool. As it turns out, it looks like the water levels will still be low enough when we get there for us to take a dip atop the falls. I am very much looking forward to watching the look on her face as she takes the plunge.
With that in mind, I thought I’d post a picture capturing what we’re likely to see as we make the walk to the Devil’s Pool. Last time, this beautiful double rainbow greeted me shortly before we prepared to swim across the top of that waterfall to the Devil’s Pool. When I hung my head over the edge and looked down from the Devil’s Pool I realized that rather than a double rainbow there was actually a triple rainbow in the swirling mist. Next time I’m there I hope to get down to the falls for some sunrise/sunset shots.
I’m planning on making my way back here in January. I can’t wait to see the cliff to the left, and actually the very spot where I was standing to take this picture, inundated by flowing and tumbling white water.
After teetering on the edge of collapsing into the river along with my camera gear and my travel buddy (aka my umbrella holder), I scrambled back onto the bank and decided to further my attempt to fall in by crossing the rope barrier to get a closer look at the incredible Svartifoss.
It was raining and gloomy. We’d walked for about an hour to get here, but when we arrived, we forgot about how cold, damp and miserable the hike had been. This waterfall is beautiful. I’d decided I wanted to capture the thin veil of water that tumbled onto the jagged rocks at its base. I was able to climb an outcrop and set my camera up with tripod on the lowest level, to snap this shot.
I tried processing this through Photomatix as I normally do to produce HDR images but eventually decided it wasn’t necessary. I just used one exposure and tweaked the contrast and saturation in Photoshop then boosted the detail a bit using Topaz Adjust.
The Victoria Falls during the dry season was an incredible experience. The gorge ripped open by the force of the Zambezi was clearly on display. We were able to walk across the top of the falls to swim in the Devil’s Pool and hang our heads over the edge, and I was able to take this photo of the rainbow born of the spray from the torrent just around the corner.
I enjoyed my time there so much that I’m planning on going back in January. This will give me the chance to experience the full power of the falls as it will be during the wet season. I’m also hoping to coordinate my visit with the full moon in the hope that I’ll get to see the lunar rainbow.
In previous posts I’ve mentioned that on our first full night in Iceland we set out to drive the full length of the southern coast of the Westfjords. I also mentioned that we didn’t make it. In theory it should have been possible. It was a four hour drive there. We’d spend two hours photographing puffins on the most westerly point in Europe, and drive back. We expected to stop occasionally on the way down and I actually had a couple of stops planned near the end of our journey.
On this ill-fated journey I realized that I had to rethink ambitious plans like these. The problem is that, in Iceland, unexpected photo opportunities appear frequently in whatever direction you head in. Today’s photo is an example of this. There are a lot of waterfalls in Iceland. There are a load of named, famous waterfalls, but there are even more beautiful small waterfalls like this one.
The next time I go, my plan is to take the ferry out to the puffins and drive back from there. This should guarantee we see what we missed last time. I’m determined to photograph some puffins.
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 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.
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!
