Posts Tagged With: hot springs

Volcanic Vistas

First off, I am obliged to report the more or less total failure of our second attempt at aurora viewing. The skies indeed cleared somewhat late last night, but not enough. We did see an auroral glow on the horizon, but it was nothing to write home about. (So I am writing to 500 strangers about it instead. Oh well.)

Today was a long day of driving today, with a couple of stops along the way. I’m too tired to exude my usual effervescent narrative, so I’ll let the pictures do the talking in this short post.

First stop: the Myvatn thermal baths. You may have heard of Reykjavik’s famous Blue Lagoon, and this is that, minus the “Blue” part and about half the admission fee. It’s a natural thermal spring with a large wading pool architected around it; its temperature varies somewhat from place to place within the pool but averages about 39 C (102 F). Here’s the scene, plus Alice, Tim, Janet, and a complete stranger in the background enjoying it.

Iceland Myvatn 2018-050-Edit

Iceland Myvatn 2018-071

We were still in Geothermal Mode for our next stop, the Hverir mud pots, basically a scale model of Yellowstone. There’s a short walking path around the area, lined with boiling mud, fumaroles, cracked mud fields, brightly colored mud, and, well, mud. It’s a fun place to visit for perhaps a half hour unless you are ambitious enough to hike up to the top of adjacent Namafjall mountain. We weren’t.

Iceland Myvatn 2018-074-Edit

Further down the road — much further — was the Dettifoss waterfall, accessible by a 30 km long unpaved road, which made for some bone-jarring driving. Dettifoss is situated on the Jökulsá á Fjöllum river, which flows from the Vatnajökull glacier. But of course, you knew that. More interestingly, it is about 45 meters (150′) high and, at about 193 cubic meters per second (over 50,000 gallons per second) is one of the most voluminous falls in Europe. (Tim asked huffily why Europe claimed it, but there’s a real answer: it lives on the east, i.e. European, side of the rift separating the two continental plates.)

Iceland Dettifoss 2018-006-Edit

Iceland Dettifoss 2018-017

What I found even more striking than the falls themselves is the canyon downstream from them, which looks a little like a pint-sized Grand Canyon. See for yourself:

Iceland Dettifoss 2018-004-Edit

See what I mean?

About a mile upstream from Dettifoss is Selfoss, one of the most famous falls in Iceland. But the path to it is rocky and uneven, and by late afternoon we were not feeling that ambitious. Janet and Tim started out for it for turned around about halfway there; Alice and I wimped out altogether. (Anyway, I was busy taking pictures. Pictures, yeah, that’s the ticket.)

We had about a 2 1/2 drive ahead of us after Dettifoss, past remarkable terrain, sometimes an arid volcanic rockscape, sometimes a flowered tundra. There were eroded cinder cones everywhere, rounded by the ages, that made the area oddly resemble the northern parts of the Big Island of Hawaii. That’s not as unlikely a pairing as it sounds: both islands are essentially giant volcanoes, both roughly a million years old. So here’s a panorama of that tectonic terrain:

Iceland Terrain 2018-017-Edit

This particular area has a lot of ground cover; when it is absent the land is a featureless gray desert that goes on for miles, limned by distant mountains. But some areas are wild with ground cover: yellow and orange grasses and tiny wildflowers that give the otherwise bleak terrain an oddly benign prairie-like appearance, like this:

Iceland Terrain 2018-013

Rising above it via drone gives an even more majestic perspective: the color goes on for miles, with nary a car in sight. I’ll post a video of the drone flight later, but for now, to end today’s post, here’s a striking drone’s-eye view from about 100 meters up. You can see that the road is not so great, but the vista makes up for the bumps.

Iceland Terrain Drone 2018-001

Categories: Europe, Iceland | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment


It’s hard to think of a more iconic image of Japan than snow-capped Mt. Fuji. It’s also hard to actually ever see snow-capped Mt. Fuji: the mountain is only visible 30% of the time. However, we tend to have good weather karma when on travel, so our hopes were high. It seems that, perhaps only briefly, the rain and gloom that marked our first week has lifted, and by the time our bus reached the outskirts of  Tokyo the skies were clear and sunny.

It’s an hour or two drive from downtown Tokyo to the mountain, so our tour lead Mariko used the time to (a) give us a Japanese lesson (I can now ask a variety of questions whose answers I will not understand); (b) talk about Japan’s (poor) attitude towards women, about which more in a moment; and (c) sing us a traditional song about Mt. Fuji, a.k.a. Fujiyama. (The -yama suffix means “mountain”.) More about that song in a moment as well.

Cool electronic gadgets notwithstanding, Japan is decades behind the West in things like gay rights and treatment of women. Mariko herself is a prime example of the latter. She is an attractive 40 year old (though could easily pass for 30) who is educated, has lived abroad and traveled extensively; and who is articulate, energetic, and good-humored. In any Western country she would have guys knocking down her door. In Japan, she is basically poison. An independent, educated woman with a career is more or less synonymous with “spinster” in this country: the stereotype is real that Japanese men want a subservient wife with few interests of her own who will stay home with the children. This is why Mariko is 40 and unmarried, which is practically criminal: some guy is missing out on a really good bet. But that’s the mindset here.

The excitement level among our 15-person crew ramped up as we approached the mountain: the weather had stayed clear and we got a gorgeous view of Fujiyama from the bus. (No snowcap, though. The mountain is 12,400 ft tall and can get snow at any time of year, but the odds are much higher in the winter.) Fifteen minutes later we were at the visitor center….and a layer of clouds had moved in, completely obscuring the upper half of the mountain. Here are a couple shots of the visitor center that I took to sublimate my disappointment.

fujiyama-002 fujiyama-001

Notice that in the visitor center signage the mountain is called “Fujisan”. The -san suffix is a general-purpose form of address applied to a person: you would call your friend John Doe either “John-san” or “Doe-san”. In calling the mountain Fujisan the Japanese are in effect anthropomorphizing it, which is not surprising considering that the mountain is itself a Shinto deity. It’s not a bad choice of deity, either: large, powerful, and unpredictable. Fujiyama is an active volcano whose last eruption was a little over 300 years ago and which is considered by geologists to be overdue for another one.

By the time we left the visitor center there appeared to be some optimism-inspiring motion of the clouds, and so Mariko directed the driver to take us to a vantage point at one of the five lakes that are adjacent to the mountain. (There is a lot of recreational boating on those lakes, and a fair number of condos on shore; it’s a popular resort area.) In any case it was a good move, because not long after we arrived at that venue, which had some nice gardens as a bonus, this was our view:

fujiyama-010In case you were wondering, that puff of white at the peak of the mountain is just a wisp of cloud in the background, not an impending eruption. In any case, working against a 70% probability that we would not get to see the peak at all, this was a big win and we were very excited.

We then set up the mountain. The way up is divided into 10 “stations”, and the road ends at station #5 at an elevation of a little below 8000 ft. Above that, there’s a foot trail to the summit that takes about 6 hours to complete. It’s a popular climb, as you’d suppose: during the ten week climbing season (July through mid-September), over 100,000 people trek to the summit. We were not going to be among them; most tourists stop at station 5 as we did. Very unusually, the weather at the station had stayed clear for us, allowing a view of the peak. So here we are, two-thirds of the way up Fujisan, with the peak in the background.


Don’t erupt yet, please. Thank you.

Satisfied that we had beaten the odds, we headed back the mountain and straight into one of those experiences that make Japan… um… Japan. Remember that traditional song that I mentioned? (Oh, by the way, in addition to her other virtues Mariko has a very sweet singing voice.) As we headed down the highway out of the park we reached a stretch that had a musical note painted on the road surface. A few moments later the bus started to hum.

Yes, hum. The Japanese have engineered a quarter-mile stretch of road with thousands of little ridges built into it, like micro-speed bumps, whose spacing is such that they cause your vehicle to vibrate at a pre-planned pitch. Yes, as you drive down this stretch of road your car hums the traditional song about Mt. Fuji. I mean holy crap, how Japanese can you get? We were impressed.

We drove for another hour and a half to the resort town of Hakone, where we will be spending the next two nights. Hakone is a hot springs resort — Fuji is an active volcano, remember? — meaning that its specialty is geothermal mineral baths in all the hotels. Our hotel is a typical one and caters mostly to Japanese clientele; once checked in we were each issued sandals and a yakuta, which is the traditional house robe, kind of like a simple version of a kimono. We wear the yakuta and sandals around the hotel rather than street clothes. It’s kind of like being at a grand-scale pajama party. Here’s a picture of our whole group at a traditional Japanese dinner this evening (except for me, since I took the shot).


You can see Alice, third from the right in the back row. Mariko is kneeling, second from the left. My robe is the same as the ones that the two guys on the ends are wearing.

It’s a pleasant hotel, and they even have free ice cream in the lobby (woo hoo!). Alice has already had a session in the hot springs pool. (This is done au naturel, men and women separated.) Tomorrow we will be exploring the area a little more.


Categories: Japan | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Create a free website or blog at