Sólheimajökull Glacier. ..There is a reason why they call the place Iceland. The place knows how to get cold. And, I was not prepared for the kind of cold I faced. On a previous trip to the Arctic Circle, in Finland, I learned that cold doesn’t matter as long as you know how to dress for it. I was warm and comfortable in Finland. So, I guess I didn’t learn my lesson because I repeat, I was not prepared for Iceland. I froze.
I opted for a tour along the southern coast of Iceland to unpronounceable waterfalls, Sólheimajökull Glacier (also unpronounceable) and beaches that blurred together in the cold. The thermometer in the van claimed it was -11 degrees Centigrade outside. That didn’t include the wind chill factor with a gale force strong enough to knock you down and take you sliding over the ice. Just before sunset, our little group arrived at the path leading to the glacier. I did not enjoy that hike one little bit. I was cold, well . . . freezing, and I much preferred the idea of a café and a cappuccino. But, I trudged along like an unhappy camper - or, in this case, hiker.
At one point, I took this photo of a fellow tour passenger. I thought he looked as cold and miserable as I felt.