Monthly Archives: April 2013

The Unpronounceables

One of my favourite aspects of Iceland (yes, that country again) is the endless supply of waterfalls. It was while driving along the south coast road in 1999 that I first realised just how amazing this place is; Seljalandsfoss can be seen from miles away but you still don’t realise straight away just how huge it is. (Don’t forget to click on the photos to see them full size!)

Just around the corner (well, it feels like that when you’re driving through Iceland; it’s more like 20 miles further on) is Skógafoss, a waterfall that faces south meaning that there’s almost always a rainbow for as long as the sun is out. This is another one popular with photographers.

Further north, around Thingvellir (where that huge crack in the land is in my aerial shots from Thursday) the river Öxará (Axe river) cascades over the southern edge of the North American tectonic place rather dramatically at Öxarárfoss.

Further north still, water that flows underground through porous lava emerges at the edge of the river Hvitá in a wall of springs unlike any other waterfall I’ve seen. These are the Lava Falls, known locally as Hraunfossar.

A short walk upstream from Hraunfossar is a waterfall with a tragic tale behind it – the story goes that a brother and sister were playing near the waterfall one Sunday when everyone else at the village was at church. The children tried to cross the waterfall at a natural arch that spanned the river, but lost their footing and fell to their deaths. On discovering what had happened, their mother cursed the waterfall so that anyone else who attempted to cross the river in the same way would perish. However the stone arch has since collapsed. The waterfall was named in honour of the children, and is known as Barnafoss (the children’s waterfall).

On the western edge of the vast Vatnajökull glacier in the south east of Iceland, the Skaftafell national park is a narrow strip of fertile green land fed by a river coming off the glacier. This river cascades down a stunning columnar basalt formation not unlike the rocks at the Giant’s Causeway in Northern Ireland. It’s a short hike to reach the waterfall from the car park, but well worth it. This is the Black Waterfall, Svartifoss.

Heading to the other extreme, back in the Western Fjords, the loudest waterfall in Iceland is part of a set of waterfalls flowing into Arnafjörður fjord known as Fjallfoss (mountain waterfall), or more commonly Dynjandi (Thundering). It is also, like most of them, enormous (see if you can spot the people hiding in this picture to get an idea of the scale).

Once again apologies for the lack of equine photos, but hopefully these pictures give you some idea of the sort of scenes Icelandic horses have to put up with on a daily basis, the poor things…

Nick

Horses on demand

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As I mentioned yesterday, I’m rather fond of Iceland, and, yes, the horses, the lack of which in my post some of you noted. So here is a selection of Icelandic horses from my various jaunts up north…

First up, from a tour of the Icelandic ring road in 2007, these chaps/ladies were ignoring the snow and the cold and just being generally waaay too cool.

I returned a few years later with my family, and headed to the Western Fjords in the extreme north west of Iceland. At Hrutafjörður, where the road to the Western Fjords leaves the main ring road, these guys needed a bit of persuading that we were friendly…

…but I eventually got their confidence and one even posed like a supermodel.

The leader of the herd, with whom I’d had a chat to arrange the shoot beforehand, kept a close eye on me throughout…

On a visit in February last year, something in the snow brought the poser out in the locals…

Who weren’t even bothered by a bit of rain

Of course the horses share Iceland with their feathered friends, the puffins, who are just as good at posing.

I mean, yeah, you can catch sand-eels in your beak, but can you tölt?

Nick

Intermission

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Hello Shetland fans! Now that Frances has gone for her operation she has handed the reins over to me to do my best to keep you interested while she is away. Living, as I do, 600 miles from Shetland, I am unable to regale you with anecdotes of animal related antics in the same way your regular hostess has done in the past, but as a photographer with a fondness for Iceland, there may be something of interest I can share with you.

My most recent visit to Iceland was for the Iceland Airwaves festival in October/November 2012, where I was photographing for The 405, a young but increasingly popular music website with whom I cut my teeth as a music photographer during 2011 before deciding to concentrate on more commercial photography.

We arrived to scenes of calm seas and snowy mountains.

Before paying a visit to the smallest venue in town

In the evening, a selection of local bands were playing at a much larger venue where, in typical crazy Icelandic style, one of the bands (called Prinspóló) handed out paper hats to the crowd:

Before being followed by Sin Fang and their unusual home-made effects boxes:

Rounding off the night were FM Belfast (who are not a radio station and are not from Northern Ireland) who finished their set, as they always do, in their underwear:

Working the crowd into a frenzy as they went

However, the reason I’m telling you all this is that on the Sunday after the festival, after the Epic Wind of Death blew through town, lifting people off their feet and generally causing chaos throughout the city of Reykjavík, the weather miraculously cleared and I was able to hire a small Cessna and pilot to fly over some of Iceland’s stunning landscapes.

I arrived at the airport beneath clear blue skies:

…before being shown to our carriage:

..which needed a quick top-up:

It wasn’t long before we were airborne, over lava fields:

… cracks in the earth (this particular one is the plate boundary between Europe and North America):

… frozen islands:

… and ribbons of meltwater from a nearby glacier:

An extinct volcano was a breathtaking sight:

… while, further south, a glacial river made abstract shapes across the barren landscape:

… before flowing into the North Atlantic ocean.

On the approach back to Reykjavík I got one last look at the mountains to the south west.

If I weren’t planning to do it again, for longer and further afield, I would have described it as a once-in-a-lifetime experience, however it only served to further fuel my hunger for more and now I just need to wait for the time, and the funds, to return.

Thanks for reading – I will try to keep up Frances’s rate of posting as best I can.

Nick

(Mandatory gratuitous plug: if you want to buy prints of any of the aerial photographs, you can from this page. If you want to save 15% on your first order, just use the discount code MYSHETLAND at the checkout.)

All your vibes please

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I was lying in bed this morning, about 09.00, when I received a phone call.

There had been a cancellation and I am on Monday’s operating list for a micro-discectomy of L4/L5. Please could I be in Aberdeen by tomorrow for admission to the ward.

So, whilst packing with one hand, trying to phone my mother with the other, trying to convince BeAnne that I am coming home, and typing this blog while I my mind is in a whirl, please think of me and send me healing vibes. I was not expecting this.

Well, I was, but just not quite this soon.

The boat goes at 19.00. I am already feeling sick. Not sure of my method of transport at the moment – I may have to use Jo’s van-bulance or it may be a proper ambulance on a stretcher to get the ferry port. There will be an ambulance waiting the other end. That has yet to be confirmed.

Please God let the Ward be nice to me and,most of all, please let them listen to me. Last time, I left with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

A rather sedate Gallopy Track

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Yesterday, was a fine day. The kind of day for planning something special.

The Gods were smiling and the Gallopy track gate was open. This track is on my neighbouring farmer’s land and, if the gate is open, it means he does not mind if we gallop along it. If the gate is shut, we would not dream of doing this.

It is the perfect track and the horses absolutely love it. What with one thing and another, I haven’t been for a couple of years but I remember the last time we went like the clappers.

This morning, Jo and Fiona arrived with yet another bale of silage (that last one was smelly and didn’t last long – I threw most of it on the compost).

We tacked up Haakon (me), Iacs (Fiona) and Klængur (Jo). Jo has been riding Klængur for a while now. He has good days and bad. The bad being when he is tense and not listening. Her last ride on him was like that so we decided to play things by ear and see what mood he was in first. He had also never been on this ride so we wanted to acquaint him with the scenery.

I successfully kept Haakon at the rear.

When we got to the Watness gate, Fiona kindly jumped off Iacs to open it.

So far, Klængur was calm and giving off very relaxed vibes. The consensus was to walk down the gallopy track and see how he reacted to this totally new environment rather than belt along and spiral out of control into a full blown race. It was also quite windy and noisy so you wouldn’t be able to hear any shit happening until it came past you at 100mph.

At least walking sedately, we could enjoy the view and the horses could acquaint themselves with the area.

Haakon remembered jolly well what went on here and was bouncing along at the back offering to bog off at 100mph. I can tell you that trying to take photos and look after the camera mid-bounce is not easy.

But I stood my ground, so to speak. I refused to let him overtake or set off. To be fair, Haakon listened because he had no other choice and I told him that if he would not walk with me nicely, I would bloody well get off and walk beside him and he would be nagged all the way home – he hates that. He opted to behave. So we turned at the far gate and walked the horses back, deciding that after the “scary bit”, we might have a bit of a controlled canter.

This is the scary bit and the sort of thing that Haakon would see at the last minute, put in a giant swerve and lose me mid-air. He is good at that sort of thing. Head down, gallop, gallop, gallop and then OMFG, where did that come from, swerve, whoops, plop, and oh dear!

Anyway, the controlled canter was nice after the scary thing (a dismantled salmon farm ring) and we went happily along with no nasty moments from anyone. Again, Fiona did the gate for us. She made the mistake of letting go of Iacs and both Jo and I shouted at her to grab him. Iacs likes to go home with or without his rider. He is a bit of an opportunist.

And home we went, thinking the next time could be much faster. The thing with Klængur is that you must set him up to succeed. If he remembers that, then he is happy to do anything. It is all about trust. With Haakon, it is all about listening and with Iacs it is all about not letting go if you get off to do the gate! They all have their little ways.

My Shetland

Everything Shetland

Monthly Archives: April 2013

The Unpronounceables

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Horses on demand

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Intermission

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All your vibes please

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A rather sedate Gallopy Track

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