The Visitors and the Sorting Hat - a photo on Flickriver

            By now it seemed I could go forever without sleep.  Since yesterday morning at home, we’d driven from one side of the country to the other and found the only two empty chairs along the main concourse near the airport’s main entrance.  Nothing was conducive to sleep, not the endless stream of arriving passengers, nor the bright lights in a space that was packed with humanity.  And despite the long drive to get here, neither of us seemed able to nod off.  The endless agitation of the man in the chair on our right did nothing to help, and of course we were both clinging to bags loaded with camera equipment that had taken years of hard work to accumulate.  When we boarded the flight for Keflavik at some obscene hour of the morning it was as if we were in a daze.  But surely, we’d find some sleep on the plane?  I managed an hour at most.

Some time later we were on the roads around the perimeter of Reykjavik, and then heading north towards Snaefellsnes, lost in awe at how imposing the landscape is.  Tufts of cloud hung halfway up the near vertical slopes of huge green fingers of high ground that spread from the earth across fjords and towards the sea.  The bright ribbon of road sparkled in sunlight as it snaked around the edge of the land, a narrow corridor between the mountains and the sea.  There’s just something about the colours and shapes of the land that draw you in and try to steal your attention as you drive.  And we hadn’t even got to the good bits yet.  After an hour or so we arrived at Borganes, the Bonus supermarket and the café I’d bought a coffee from last time we were here three years earlier.  Traditions can evolve from the most mundane of activities sometimes.
  
After a couple of hours, more or less on time we drove over the narrow causeway across the last fjord towards the small fishing port of Grundarfjordur on the north coast of the Snaefellsnes peninsula, stopping at the viewpoint over the sound to take a few handheld snaps.  Inland, clouds hung heavy in cumulus form, racing on the wind across the mountain tops of the interior.  But out to sea they were altogether different, smooth edged and cigar shaped, like thousands of strange alien craft that had arrived at the same time as us and were making their way towards a meeting point.  Textures that would later make the sky rival a certain location for attention when we pointed our cameras towards it.

We were the first of the new arrivals to an empty hostel, checking into our room with another cup of coffee and  hastily assembled ham and tomato deli wraps to celebrate getting there in one piece.  Of course, coffee doesn’t go hand in hand with sleep, and nor does the adrenalin generated by the excitement of being in a landscape photographer’s dreamland.  And we were only five minutes from the main attraction.  Five minutes from Kirkjufell, which dominated the scene from the picture window in our room.  We could come here every day if we wanted.  Twice a day, three times a day – time couldn’t stop us.  In 2019 we only managed the classic shot – a sub standard canvas sits on my wall recording the event – but this time it feels like we observed it from every conceivable angle.  Well, every conceivable angle except for the one further up the valley I read about in a book called “Photographing Iceland” that seemed to involve trespassing that is.  Amazing how different it looks from each position.  From here, the Hogwarts Sorting Hat forever jumps into my imagination.

We’d started on the west side along the empty road behind the marshes.  I haven’t shared a shot from there yet, but I’m bound to at some point – it’s only a matter of time.  An hour there revealed something different that most of the people a mile away wouldn’t see that day.  Watch this space.  Then we thought about the obvious view.  The one everyone knows.  My obsessive planning had already warned us about the new car park that charges visitors one thousand krona to stop at the most well known viewpoint, and for the hard of spending this presented a challenge.  But challenges can be overcome you know, and a rough pull in was soon identified at which we ourselves pulled in and made across the bridge for the waterfall view, passing the busy new facility with its number plate recognition cameras and pay machines.  Iceland costs enough without throwing bad money after good.  Judging by the number of vehicles parked in there, the owners would probably have enough for a luxury holiday in Cornwall by next Thursday.

“That’s a great hat!” 
 
“Thank you”

“Where did you buy it.  Over here?”

“No, eBay,” I smiled in return to the young German man.  One of the few non photographers among the masses, he seemed to like my bright blue and orange hat, supplied by a well known manufacturer of outdoor clothing and equipment.  I returned to the view in front of me.  The Great Sorting Hat of Snaefellsnes in all its glory.  If you zoom in a bit, you can even see a watchful eye halfway up that all so familiar slope.

The waterfall area was far busier than it had been three years earlier.  Mind you, last time we were here it was under the midnight sun.  There were still a handful of people here when I thoughtlessly threw on the ten stop filter and lost all definition in the famous waterfalls then, but now the place was chock full of humanity.  In fact, I had to wait my turn to line up my shot, this time choosing the slightly less familiar lower falls to share with this story.  I hoped my choice of a six stop filter and a speed of a little under a second might deliver something more pleasing.  And even though the hour wasn’t golden or blue, those strange cigar shapes in the sky that had gathered here like old friends gave the rugged green landscape an unworldly atmosphere.  For a moment I ignored the crowds gathered behind me and pretended I was the only person here.  Just me, a sky full of visitors and a giant sorting hat in this remote corner of Europe.  Maybe sleep deprivation was starting to kick in after all.

Taken in: Iceland / West / Grundarfjordur (show map)

Taken on: September 8, 2022

Tags:

Kirkjufell

Mountain

snaefellsnes

landscape

landscape photography

Waterfall

Cloud

clouds

sky

wilderness

Water

water_shots

water_captures

long exposure

river

falls

cascade « less

Sets appears in: • Snaefellsnes • Iceland 2022

Groups appears in: • Iceland. • Amateurs more » • Amateur Landscape • Iceland - Landscape • Photography Week • On Landscape • All things digital photography « less

Camera: Canon EOS 5D Mark IV, f/16.0, 0.8 sec, 22mm, ISO 100 (more info) (hide info)

Camera:	Canon EOS 5D Mark IV
Lens:	EF16-35mm f/2.8L II USM
Aperture:	f/16.0
Exposure Time:	0.8
Focal Length:	22mm
ISO:	100
Exposure Bias:	+1/3 EV
Flash:	Off, Did not fire
Exposure Program:	Aperture-priority AE
Exposure Mode:	Auto
Metering Mode:	Multi-segment
White Balance:	Manual
Color Space:	Uncalibrated
Software:	Adobe Photoshop Lightroom Classic 12.3 (Windows)
Show full info

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