Keeping with our Icelandic (and food-related) theme of late, I think you will marvel at this piece from today's Guardian: a video of a drive and then a hike on Eyjafjallajökull volcano: 'Where Satan goes backpacking.' I want to do this...(Thanks to J. for pointing this out to me!) Be sure to watch through to the end.)
Holy moly!
Posted by: Luisa A. Igloria | December 13, 2011 at 10:55 PM
Oh, man. Desolation. Hiking up on Mt St Helens, the year after it blew, felt a little like that: it was a completely destroyed, blasted landscape (and the year before I'd spent a week up there by the beautiful blue lake, surrounded by fir forests. I've never felt quite the same about nature since.)
Something so compelling about Iceland, though. I feel it even without ever having been there: it caught hold of William Morris, and it seems to have caught hold of you, too. That wonderful Icelandic language certainly has something to do with it, if you have that sort of linguistic sensibility: probably the closest thing to Old English extant.
Posted by: Dale Favier | December 14, 2011 at 12:56 AM
Amazing and fearfully stunning. No no no! I do not want to be there! Not even for volcano-grilled frankfurters!
Posted by: Natalie | December 14, 2011 at 11:10 AM
They don't mention it in the video, but I'm sure those hot dogs were consumed amid the fragrant odor of sulphur. Yummy!
Posted by: Beth | December 14, 2011 at 09:04 PM
Ah, it brings back so many memories: the landscape, the steam and ash, driving trucks/vans/buses through the streams. Wish I could go back. It's nice to see it again through your eyes.
Posted by: Jan | December 15, 2011 at 08:52 PM
The hotdogs were a nice touch. And their guide had a great sense of humor!
Posted by: Dave | December 15, 2011 at 08:58 PM