Raw. Rough. Rainy.Rural. I am trying to list all adjectives I know starting with R and also to describe the raw, rough, rainy peninsula in west Iceland named Snaefelsness.
North Atlantic ocean in the North and South of the peninsula, holding it in a salty, wild embrace. Black beaches composed of lava. The waves of the ocean ruthlessly dancing and crashing against the black cliffs.
Steep rocky mountains and volcanoes looking like pyramids and a new waterfall to be seen every few minutes (of driving, straight from the car, yes!).
Endless lava fields covered with the greenest moss coming like strange waves from the glacier. I stand there, in the middle of the lava sea and can very well picture how hundreds of thousands of years ago this landscape was being shaped. The black stones I am going through were red, hot lava, flowing on the sides of the Snæfellsjökull volcano. Now the moss has crawled around and wrapped the black stones, creating an image of contrast that makes my head dizzy after several hours of trekking through the fields.
The Snæfellsjökull glacier stands like a guardian of the peninsula – its white peak and wrinkly, grey slopes against the blue sky.