Wednesday Sept 21
The sky is blue and a beach day is in the making. Getting an early start, we drove down Patreksfjördur, past the old shipwreck, and over the mountain to Rauòasandur or red sand beach, unique since most Icelandic beaches are black sand.
As we descended the steep gravel road, the beach appeared, long and a beautiful orange gold in today's light. To our chagrin, we were separated from it by an estuary full of birds, flying up as we looked for passage. Not to be twarted, especially by a few cows, we finally found an access on the far left- across a pasture and over a small stream.
We are totally alone on this magnificent sand beach, sans rocks or seaweed. Ours are the only footprints, ours the only voices amidst the waves and soaring birds.
Noting the time (where did it go?), we leave reluctantly, deciding to tackle the road to Dynjandi, the most dramatic waterfall in the Westfjords. Once we leave the main road, gravel is standard. It is slow going over the summit that is Dynjandi's source, but the views are stunning down and along the fjords. Westfjords looks like a cockscomb on the northwest of Iceland, full of long, steep-walled fjords, with blue green water. Dynjandi lived up to it's reputation with thunderous power and spray like rain.
After today's wonders, we chased a gorgeous sunset all the way home to Patreksfjördur, the only town (pop 662) on it's namesake fjord.
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