The Road to Hverir, Iceland
We stepped out of the “magic bus” (in actuality a mini bus modified to be able to handle Iceland’s rough terrain) and I didn’t know what to think. “Geothermal areas,” I was told. That’s where we were going. In Iceland, it’s hard sometimes for your imagination to match the description from the tour guide. An “iceberg” is just a term they throw around like candy and it really doesn’t do justice to experiencing the wonders of one firsthand. Same with a “geothermal area.” It sounds a bit numb maybe even a bit dull, but, as it turned out, it was anything but either of these.
After driving over some harsh terrain, and actually going through some rivers (bumpy but OK thanks to the “magic bus”) we pulled up to the Hverir geothermal areas. According to the wiki, geothermal areas are, “regions where the Earth’s internal heat is manifested on the surface, often through features like hot springs, geysers, and fumaroles. These areas are usually found near tectonic plate boundaries or areas of recent volcanic activity, where magma heats groundwater, creating steam and hot water that rises to the surface.”
The Rules of the Road, er, the Flimsy Sign
Our trusty tour guide explained the rules. In typical Icelandic fashion, we got a terse warning, of sorts. “It’s hot,” he said, “don’t step in it. Stay on the path or you could get hurt.” As it turns out, the week before we were visiting, a photographer from Italy had visited and ventured off the path. Suffering third degree burns and nearly killing himself from the heat, the park responded in typical Icelandic fashion. We were to be told, “it’s hot,” before venturing out into the areas to stand next to the big burning molten lakes. OK, well then, consider myself warned!
To recap, so far, we have a “magic bus,” a text description of something called a “geothermal area,” and the phrase, “it’s hot.” That sure does paint a vivid picture, doesn’t it? As luck would have it, the geothermal areas really were quite vivid, with tons of colors, texture, smoke, and a lot of interesting photographic elements. Before the end of my visit, I would dub them, “Satan’s mud pits” thanks to the “it’s hot” part of the equation, coupled with the gurgling springs as you see here.
Craters-R-Us
If you’ve ever wondered what it’s like to stand on the edge of a giant, bubbling cauldron of mud, let me take you on a little journey through this steamy wonderland. Picture this: a crater, steaming like a hot cup of coffee on a Monday morning, surrounded by cracked earth that looks like it’s been through a rough breakup. The entire landscape felt this way. It stretched on for miles.
Of course, as soon as we got out of the magic bus, and we’re told, “it’s hot,” and also, “stay on the path,” the first thing we did? Yeah, most folks didn’t stay on the path. There were a few stray flimsy safety markers, which we used to navigate and promptly walked around, along with a couple of ropes which were handrails in another life. No fences, no signs, no roads, no rules, it was just us and Satan’s mud out in the wilds of Iceland. Watch your step!
Mud Pies Turn Up the Heat
Now, let’s talk about that mud. It’s not just any mud. It’s the kind of mud that’s got more mineral deposits than a South African mine shaft. It’s the kind of mud that bubbles and churns as if it’s auditioning for a role in a horror movie.
Seriously, if mud could talk, I’m pretty sure it would have some wild stories to tell and it would snub us all. It could have been Kim Kardashian’s mud mask in another life but, no, it was stuck here with us. Trapped in Iceland with nothing but a flimsy sign, a so-called “magic bus” and a bunch of photographers who were barely smart enough NOT to fall into the boiling Earth. Poor dear, have another creator.
The Colors of Iceland
And the colors! Oh, the colors! You’ve got earthy browns, steely grays, and hints of minerals that make you feel like you’ve stumbled into a painter’s palette gone rogue. It’s like Mother Nature decided to throw a party and invited all her favorite hues. Nothing in Iceland is the color you might expect and it’s the kind of place that makes you wonder if Doctor Seuss didn’t visit before plotting some of his wildest stories. You could almost hear his voice, “Oh, the colors I would paint if only I were Icelandic!” Chartreuse moss grass, anyone? You always looked good under a violet sky atop a pink mountain.
But let’s not forget the steam. It wafts up like a ghost trying to escape its earthly prison, adding an air of mystery to the whole scene. You half-expect to see a wizard emerge from the mist, ready to offer you a potion or at least a good laugh. Now, our poor wizard can’t very well jump out from behind a curtain, he’ll just have to settle for a flimsy safety markers as cover but, hey, he’s got this.
That Really Stinks, Doesn’t It?
Now, if you’re thinking about visiting a place like this, be prepared for a few things. First, the smell. Oh yes, that delightful aroma of sulfur wafting through the air. It’s like nature’s way of reminding you that beauty often comes with a side of “what on earth is that smell?”
And then there’s the heat. You might think you’re just going for a casual stroll, but the ground is basically a giant hot plate. So, if you’re wearing flip-flops, you might want to reconsider your footwear choices unless you enjoy the sensation of your feet slowly cooking. You do have to watch where you step and I would recommend staying on the path but the choice is up to you there. Our good Icelandic friends will warn you, “It’s hot” and you’ll be on your own with Satan’s mud.
Mother Nature Gets The Last Laugh
In conclusion, this landscape is a reminder that nature has a sense of humor and isn’t always tidy. It’s messy, it’s steamy, and it’s downright fascinating. So, the next time you find yourself near a geothermal crater in Iceland, take a moment to appreciate the chaos, the colors, and yes, even the smell. After all, life is too short to take everything seriously, especially when there’s mud and a magic bus involved!
Until next time…
