Kirkjufell for Free
Besides the obvious, there are certain benefits to being what some of my former colleagues would refer to as "careful" with money. The more kindly former colleagues that is, I should add. Others wasted no time in coming up with rather more abusive terms for my steadfast refusal to throw away my hard earned on fast cars, champagne lunches and visits to Monte Carlo, but I would just smile and remind them that they'd still be working long after I'd retired. That tended to either stop them in their tracks with dumbstruck expressions, or had the opposite effect of exacerbating the tirade. Still, I'd just smile as I opened my home made cheese salad while whichever friend it was lavished another fiver on a disappointing looking sandwich and an overpriced coffee.
I often earned similar brickbats for refusing to join in the incessant charge along the highways and byways, driving at a benign pace rather than hammering along the outside lane at eighty-five miles an hour. I prefer to watch the fuel consumption reading rather than the speedometer you see. When I was younger, and very probably heading for a midlife crisis, I owned a white Vauxhall Astra GTE. It was very fast and it made me drive like a fool. It also used a lot of petrol. Now I have a modest Skoda that can get halfway across the country and back to Luton Airport without me having to refill the tank.
So there are aspects of Iceland that suit me, despite the fact that things are generally quite expensive in comparison to where I live. The jaw dropping landscape is something of course that very much ticks my boxes, but while many visitors seem to struggle with the fifty-five miles per hour speed limit, I don't. I simply pop the rental car into cruise control, set the speed and steer contentedly through the beauty around us - trying to concentrate on the road of course - the scenery can be distracting.
Other aspects of Iceland can be a trifle worrisome though. Last time we were here, we parked freely and quite legitimately on a patchy pull in, before walking the short distance to the triple waterfall of Kirkjufellsfoss. It was close to midnight under the twenty-four hour daylight glow, and only a small number of togs were around to compete for position with. On the other side of the pull in was another bit of scrubby ground beside the beach where we could also have parked for free. But three years on, things have changed. A brand new car park with number plate recognition cameras awaits the visitor, and swiftly relieves them of a thousand krona, regardless of how long they're planning to stay for. Needless to say, the waterfall was surrounded by a large number of visitors, many of them armed with tripods and cameras, all after that classic shot of Kirkjufell that looks so familiar. Admittedly there was still a pull in nearby, but there was also a sign that suggested our car might get towed away if we parked there, so we didn't stop for long.
But on the plus side, this aversion to parting with money for no good reason eventually added some unexpected shots to the catalogue, including my previous post, "Night Traffic." Our irritation at the prospect of coughing up the cash had taken us to a generous lay-by overlooking the sea. From there it was a leisurely fifteen minute amble along a footpath back towards the waterfall, and directly past the lake, where Kirkjufell gives away mirrorlike reflections on still days without charging a bean. And when the sky is doing interesting things at the end of a wet and grungy day, that seems like a reward worth grabbing with both hands.
We took a number of shots here, starting well before sunset and pushing on into the blue hour. I'd had a plan to revisit a patch of marshy ground I'd found the previous evening, but the presence of a growing number of togs along the bank of the lake appealed to my better nature as I wondered how easily they'd be able to clone me out of their sunsets. So here I stayed, enjoying the fact that I hadn't paid a thousand crowns for the privilege. It wasn't a bad spot from which to watch the day ebb away.
Kirkjufell for Free
Besides the obvious, there are certain benefits to being what some of my former colleagues would refer to as "careful" with money. The more kindly former colleagues that is, I should add. Others wasted no time in coming up with rather more abusive terms for my steadfast refusal to throw away my hard earned on fast cars, champagne lunches and visits to Monte Carlo, but I would just smile and remind them that they'd still be working long after I'd retired. That tended to either stop them in their tracks with dumbstruck expressions, or had the opposite effect of exacerbating the tirade. Still, I'd just smile as I opened my home made cheese salad while whichever friend it was lavished another fiver on a disappointing looking sandwich and an overpriced coffee.
I often earned similar brickbats for refusing to join in the incessant charge along the highways and byways, driving at a benign pace rather than hammering along the outside lane at eighty-five miles an hour. I prefer to watch the fuel consumption reading rather than the speedometer you see. When I was younger, and very probably heading for a midlife crisis, I owned a white Vauxhall Astra GTE. It was very fast and it made me drive like a fool. It also used a lot of petrol. Now I have a modest Skoda that can get halfway across the country and back to Luton Airport without me having to refill the tank.
So there are aspects of Iceland that suit me, despite the fact that things are generally quite expensive in comparison to where I live. The jaw dropping landscape is something of course that very much ticks my boxes, but while many visitors seem to struggle with the fifty-five miles per hour speed limit, I don't. I simply pop the rental car into cruise control, set the speed and steer contentedly through the beauty around us - trying to concentrate on the road of course - the scenery can be distracting.
Other aspects of Iceland can be a trifle worrisome though. Last time we were here, we parked freely and quite legitimately on a patchy pull in, before walking the short distance to the triple waterfall of Kirkjufellsfoss. It was close to midnight under the twenty-four hour daylight glow, and only a small number of togs were around to compete for position with. On the other side of the pull in was another bit of scrubby ground beside the beach where we could also have parked for free. But three years on, things have changed. A brand new car park with number plate recognition cameras awaits the visitor, and swiftly relieves them of a thousand krona, regardless of how long they're planning to stay for. Needless to say, the waterfall was surrounded by a large number of visitors, many of them armed with tripods and cameras, all after that classic shot of Kirkjufell that looks so familiar. Admittedly there was still a pull in nearby, but there was also a sign that suggested our car might get towed away if we parked there, so we didn't stop for long.
But on the plus side, this aversion to parting with money for no good reason eventually added some unexpected shots to the catalogue, including my previous post, "Night Traffic." Our irritation at the prospect of coughing up the cash had taken us to a generous lay-by overlooking the sea. From there it was a leisurely fifteen minute amble along a footpath back towards the waterfall, and directly past the lake, where Kirkjufell gives away mirrorlike reflections on still days without charging a bean. And when the sky is doing interesting things at the end of a wet and grungy day, that seems like a reward worth grabbing with both hands.
We took a number of shots here, starting well before sunset and pushing on into the blue hour. I'd had a plan to revisit a patch of marshy ground I'd found the previous evening, but the presence of a growing number of togs along the bank of the lake appealed to my better nature as I wondered how easily they'd be able to clone me out of their sunsets. So here I stayed, enjoying the fact that I hadn't paid a thousand crowns for the privilege. It wasn't a bad spot from which to watch the day ebb away.