On the way back to Reykjavík and Keflavík we stopped twice more. First we drove our lowered mini SUV – a tin can on wheels – across the terrain to the plane wreck on the coast, which I had already visited last summer. Then we hiked a few kilometres north from the Skógafoss along the river, before heading to the last stop before the flight home: Keflavík. A great holiday, only the hoped-for northern lights never came – the weather had other plans, and at this time of year that can simply happen in Iceland. But we'll make up for it. By the way, the path upstream from the Skógafoss is the start of the trail over the Fimmvörðuháls pass, past a long series of further waterfalls on the Skógá.
On the way back to Reykjavík the rental car stands in front of the wreck in the sand.The fuselage is full of holes, with a pale star in the metal between them.Of the tail, only the skeleton remains, with nothing but grey sky behind.From the cockpit the view runs across the sandy beach at Sólheimasandur.The fuselage is empty, and the aisle leads to the bright opening in the sand.Across the wing the sand lies in light that is already dim.The nose of the wreck rises into the grey sky above the sand.Near Skógar a cattle-trailer ruin stands in the grass, snowy mountains behind.Cascades of the Skógá, at the start of the trail over the Fimmvörðuháls pass.On the bank of the Skógá a hiker with a backpack sits, a few kilometres from Skógafoss.The Skógá falls between mossy rocks, with snow still lying on the stones.The lip of Skógafoss on the right, the gorge of the Skógá coming in on the left.In the narrow gorge near Skógar the Skógá drops, with spray at its foot.
