Mission Abort
The goal is pretty simple this morning – get the heck out of Dodge. We’re confirmed our tour has been cancelled so rather than risk getting stuck here in Skaftafell for who knows how long, we’re making a run for it. The sun is not quite up yet and the snow has already started falling, so my safe driving consultant is on full alert mere minutes after we turn onto the highway.
There aren’t a whole lot of cars on the road, and most of the ones that are seem to be full of old ladies from Tampa, cruise control set at a blistering 25 miles per hour because they have never seen snow. On a different day, being in a parade might be nice, but not wanting a 4 hour drive to turn into 10, we need to make a move. The safe driving system is going off loudly in the passenger seat, but despite its projections for certain death, we manage to make it by safely. From that point on, the boys and I channel Jimmy Neutron, calling out “Gotta blast!” each time we need pass a car. It drives Mom absolutely crazy which, because we’re boys, only fuels the fire.
As we get closer to Vík, conditions start to get noticeably better. The snow has stopped and there is a distinctly different feel as the tires start touching asphalt. The wind is picking up though, and we know our window is going to be limited, so power ahead, making pretty good time all the way back through Hella to the town of Selfoss (one of the largest outside of Reykjavik).
On a normal day, it’s a quick 40 minutes to the capital on heavily traveled roads, so at this stage we figure we’re home free. That is, until we get 10 miles or so further down the road and see police cars blocking the highway. The route to the airport is still open though, and while it will take about twice as long, we can connect there with a major road into the city and still arrive in time to do something with the afternoon.
That plan goes south about halfway to the airport, as by that time the storm has arrived. Every road into Reykjavik is now closed. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced a major city being entirely cutoff so this definitely something new. Our only option is to hole up in a small town called Grindavík and wait for the winds to die down. There is some novelty for the boys just trying to walk outside without getting blown around, but even that doesn’t keep them busy for long.
Finally, around 4pm we’re able to get back on the road. By the time we pull into the hotel parking lot, we’ve ben traveling for 10 hours and are more than ready to just zone out for the rest of the evening. My trusty travel companion has deemed this the most stressful day ever, and since we say experiences and memories are more valuable than things, that must be a good thing, right?
Unfortunately, no pictures of today’s events as our official photographer spent the entire day with one hand on the dashboard and the other on the grab handle above her window.