A Brief History of Mormons and Iceland

Once upon a time there were a bunch of mormons in Iceland in the 1850s. They all lived in the Westman Islands. One day they all moved to Spanish Fork, Utah. Last Saturday they opened a historical exhibit at the museum in the Westman Islands commemorating 160 years since they left. The mayor of the Westman Islands is kind of attractive for a mayor. The end.

There were many other name/facts/dates/etc told to me last Saturday on our little mormon historical outing, but that was the gist of it. Pretty cool.

Now here is the equivalent of your aunt's vacation slide show from her cruise to Cancun that seems to go on forever and ever and you really need to pee but just have to sit there until it's over and why does she even still have a slide projector and not a Facebook profile like everyone else.

Bright and early bus ride to Selfoss to pick up the other branch:

Waiting for the ferry to take us to the Westman Islands:

THERE WAS A HOUSE ON THAT ISLAND. I would live there so hard and read the crap out of books all the time:

The water was ridiculously blue:

Spot the elephant profile in the rocks:

The Icelandic Mormon Immigrants to Utah:

Ribbon cutting of the exhibit. That's the mayor on the left there. Ok, so not the best picture, but trust me, he was fairly attractive for a mayor:

The exhibit:

A view of the downtown harbor area of Heimaey:

Lost? Just follow the fish to the harbor:

I decided the Westman Islands are the Icelandic Hawaii:

Crazy fun girls on the ferry ride back:

Back on the mainland we stopped to help some stuck guys. After about an hour, and a ripped off bumper, a tractor came and handled it like a pro:

Where we stopped for a dinner picnic (are you kidding me, Iceland!?):

Drinking the delicious waterfall water:

Me just being a fountain for everyone downstream:

A tired drive home after a really fun day:

My dad gets here in less than two weeks. I'm SO excited to get back to the Westman Islands and properly photograph it. Here's hoping for such nice weather again!

Þingvellir, Haukadalur, Gulfoss

On Saturday my awesome Australian friend, Tara (of instagram fame Gr82Chat, follow her), and I went on a fantastic photo adventure. We decided to do the Golden Circle (well, at least the top half/good stuff) since I've been in Iceland nearly 4.5 months and still hadn't done THE trip. The scandal! This is what most people do when they come to Iceland. It is the epitome of Icelandic tourism*. Not doing this trip would be like not doing Iceland.
*For the record, it's a shame people don't venture out past these places. For the love of everything rent a car and get the eff out around the island, people! ...Or don't and leave more for me. Ok yeah, actually do that. The Golden Cirlce is the only thing to see...

Cairns are a common thing here in Iceland which I absolutely adore. I grew up building these along trails as a kid with my dad, and they always warm my heart a little when I see them. Such a cool concept we humans decided to do for one another.

This is where the tectonic plates of North America and Europe meet in Þingvellir. I'm so inter-continental right now.

The ridiculously stunning pools at Þingvellir. I'm pretty sure I looked at Tara and exclaimed "these colors are amazing!" about 56 billion times while we were there.

Tara babe-ing it up.

Obligatory feet shot. I have to do it.

Tara and I being shady.

Haukadalur

There was this freak hailstorm out of nowhere that I was sure was going to stop any second... and then about 15 minutes later I walked to the cafe soaking wet to wait the last 4 minutes out with Tara over a cheeseburger.

Some friendly horse friends we stopped to photograph along the way. I WANT ONE.

The iconic Gullfoss.

Huge shout out to Tara who made the trip possible. She was the best sort of company a photographer could ask for... another photographer who does their own thing but meets back up for great conversation at lunch and in the car ride. It was definitely one of the most pleasant days I've had since I've been here. 

To Vík and Back

Nope, it's not just a silly crush or fleeting affair; I'm officially in love with Iceland. Like, so hard. There. I said it. I'd make it Facebook official if I could. It pains me not to share my favorite pictures with you from this particular trip (as always, I'm saving my best photos for my book).

Last friday evening my friend Sylíva and I packed up her cute yellow Yaris and headed south to attended a party near Selfoss. Though I didn't know most of the people very well, I did make friends with the most delicious shrimp salad concoction and a bowl of crackers. Mmmmmm (call me). We then spent the night in Selfoss so we could get a head start on our adventure in the morning.

Hawt.

After replacing a couple of headlights in the trusty ol' car, we were on our way. Our first stop was Seljelandsfoss, an absurdly beautiful waterfall you can walk behind (stop Iceland, you're too much sometimes).

Then we made our way down to the black sand beach of the ever-so-picturesque Vík, which is the southern most town in Iceland. 

The rain was fierce, but it could not dampen my awe and excitement to see the Reynisdrangar basalt formations. The tide was as such that I couldn't hike out to them, but hopefully I'll be able to another day. Legend has it they are trolls who got caught in the daylight and turned to stone.

After drying off momentarily in the car, we made our way over to the Dyrhólaey outlooks just west of Vík.

So, uh, let's talk about the idiot who doesn't have waterproof shoes with good traction standing on a cliff...

 It was exceedingly rainy.

 And the Icelandic wind tried to blow us away.

Because the windy rain didn't get us wet enough, we drove down to Skógafoss to get a proper shower. I gotta admit, as unpleasant as it was to be cold the rest of the night, there are few moments in my life as invigorating as facing that waterfall.

Sylvia soakin' it in.

Thoroughly sopping, we made a brief stop at the Skoga Folk Museum to snap a few pictures of the old houses.

On our way back North I also saw an edge of Eyjafjallajökull, the volcano that erupted a few years ago and caused all those flight delays to Europe (shout out to my girl Marie!). We didn't stop to take pictures or anything, I just wanted to point out that I know how to pronounce Eyjafjallajökull correctly.

For dinner we stopped at Fjöruborðið, a restaurant outside of Selfoss, to try their famous soup and eat our weight in Icelandic lobster. It was absolutely lovely, though we both had to be rolled home.

Huge thank you to Sylvía who made this trip possible. She's such a babe!

Bless bless!