Lots of traveling today, with a fascinating stop at a farm that’s being worked in the traditional manner; a multitude of vol­canic landscapes; and our final destination of Lake Mývatn.

The farmhouse from a distance (big image, small).	The sod house up close (big image, small).
Kristín and Lilja before the house (big image, small).	Kristín and Lilja (big image, small).

Breakfast at the hotel, again fairly uninteresting, then off towards Mývatn. First, we passed Egilsstaðir again, and then turned north. Our first stop was at Sænautasel Farm. where we were met by the farmer Lilja, a woman of about 50 or so, dressed in traditional or maybe medieval clothes. She chose to speak only Icelandic, with translations by Kristín. She showed us all parts of the traditional turf house, and explained some of the methods of preparing and preserving foods.

Kristín and Lilja (big image, small).

We tasted bits of smoked lamb and various pylsur (sausages): head cheese, liver sausage, blood sausage. The sausages are kept in a vat of whey, and consequently are rather sour, probably not to an American’s taste. (But from a section in the most recent thriller of Arnaldur Indriðason, I gather that the sourness is rather comforting, a symbol of the enduring aspects of Icelandic culture.) I sampled the smoked lamb and the head cheese: liked the former, was less taken with the latter and its sourness. Afterwards, we and a bunch of people not in our group sat down to a snack of thick pancakes called lummur (like the American variety, not like pönnukökur, the typical thin Icelandic ones). We could have “marmalade” with them, which I suspect was really apple butter, but I found them delicious plain, and had three of them.

Jerye and Shirley examine the stuff hanging from the ceiling (big image, small).

Legs of lamb hanging in the smoke (big image, small).

Lilja, Kristín and John in the upper level (big image, small). At table: Barbara, Kay, Margie, Ronnie, Erling, Kristín, Mark, and Hulda (big image, small).

From there, we drove to Leirhnjúkur, a lava field with lots of gassy vents, and while sitting on very un­com­fort­ably rough volcanic ash, we had our box lunch.

A long fissure (big image, small).	Big image, small.	Big image, small.	Steam vents (big image, small).
Big image, small.	Big image, small.	Big image, small.	Lunch (big image, small).
	Peaceful scene (big image, small).	Big image, small.

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A fumarole at Námafjall. This could be the very same one that’s pictured on the Wikipedia page, towards the bottom. (Big image, small.)

Next stop: Námafjall, with plenty of mud pots and fumaroles. Again very hellish terrain. Picture to the left: big image, small; to the right: big image, small. Mark has a nice video, even has sound so you can hear the bubbling of the volcanic gases through the mud, but my camera doesn’t have that ca­pa­bil­ity, I could only take short sequences that play as stop-frame movie loops. Only one of these sequences turned out interesting.

For the picture below, you start or stop the loop by clicking inside the frame. The loop runs for about 7 seconds before repeating.

Our destination was Mývatn, not at all far from Leirhnjúkur and Námafjall, and we drove a way around the lake seeing the lay of the land before we turned in to our hotel. Unlike the previous two stops with their lunar landscape, Mývatn is green and lush. At one end of the lake are unusual “pseu­do­craters”, like popped bubbles in mud that have solidified. But big. Supper was at our hotel, the Reykjahlíð. The meal was pleasant, lots of good fellowship, edging towards the boisterous. I had salad appetizer and trout, very nice but not spectacular. Dessert was skyr and cream, plain and unimaginative. And then to bed, ready for our last full day of the tour.
		Buildings in the town of Reykjahlíð, where we stayed (big image, small).	Mývatn, with pseudocraters in the distance (big image, small).
		Swans on Mývatn (big image, small).	We walk towards a pseudocrater (big image, small).
Big image, small.	Big image, small.	Big image, small.	Big image, small.