WALKING AROUND REYKJAVIK, ICELAND, Part I, Guest Post by Caroline Hatton

Reykjavik, Iceland. Bravo bar in a quintessential Reykjavik corrugated-iron-clad building.

My friend Caroline Hatton, a children’s book writer and frequent contributor to this blog, loved strolling through Reykjavik in June 2023 and taking all but one photo in this post. This is Part 1. Part 2 will appear next week.

When the Covid pandemic hit in 2020, the week-long horse trek I had previously booked in Iceland got canceled. But after a few years staying safe at home, and getting vaccinated and boosted against Covid and its variants, I booked it again, this time for June 2023.

Riding a horse safely requires my sharpest focus and reflexes, so I planned to arrive in Iceland a few days early to get over jet lag. Buffer days would also reduce the impact of potential flight delays or cancellations, or lost luggage, which had been a higher risk in the past two years (but didn’t happen to me).

Where would I spend the extra days? At the horse farm, perhaps the only guest in an isolated, rural location, enjoying a personal retreat, reading about Iceland, and hoping for photo opps with horses? Or in Reykjavík, which I had skipped on two previous visits to Iceland, hungry as always for time in the wild? I can read about Iceland at home, so I chose to explore Reykjavik. I stayed near the far end of Lauvavegur, the main shopping street downtown. From there, I walked in a few minutes to the seashore and in less than half an hour to everything else I saw. Here are some outdoor highlights. 

THE SUN VOYAGER

The Sun Voyager sculpture by Jon Gunnar Arnason.

The art work I ranked as most inspired was the Sun Voyager, or Sólfar in Icelandic. It’s a large steel sculpture by the late Jón Gunnar Árnason, an Icelandic mechanical engineer who pursued art in his spare time. The Sun Voyager symbolizes the promise of undiscovered territory, a dream of hope, progress, and freedom. As it stood outdoors on the seashore, its slender arcs reaching for the sky gave it an exuberant lightness, unusual for a Nordic creation.

When I took the above photo, I framed it to exclude a stranger on the right side, but this truncated the shiny disk under the sculpture—oops—and removed a convenient indication of scale—oops again! The disk reflects the changing sky, including dramatic colors, clouds, or northern lights, as shown by postcards in every shop. After glancing to the right, at Mount Esja across the bay, I turned left to follow the waterfront walking path to the Harpa Concert Hall, 600 m (~1/3 mile) west. 

THE HARPA CONCERT HALL AND CONFERENCE CENTER

Harpa Concert Hall

The glass walls mirror nature's moods.

Shiny! The Harpa Concert Hall is a glass building that lets light through and reflects it, mirroring nature’s moods, and it is a winner of the European Union Prize for Contemporary Architecture Mies van der Rohe Award. Harpa was designed by Henning Larsen Architects and its facade by Icelandic-Danish artist Olafur Eliasson, inspired by Iceland’s volcanic crystallized basalt. Harpa is the home of the Iceland Symphony Orchestra, The Icelandic Opera, and the Reykjavik Big Band.

Harpa wall from inside.

I loved hunting for photos inside and outside, zooming in on the repeating glass blocks or the occasional panes of different colors which made walls and ceilings shimmer like gemstones.

Himinglaeva sculpture by Elin Hansdottir.

Outside Harpa, the stainless-steel-coil sculpture by Elín Hansdóttir, named Himinglæva after a Norse mythic figure, is an Aeolian harp: it produces sounds when wind blows through it, which wasn’t the case when I saw it.

HALLGRÍMSKIRKJA

Hallgrimskirkja, the largest church in Iceland and Leif Eriksson statue. Photo credit: Jakub Halun, Wikimedia Commons.

Hallgrímskirkja  is the largest church in Iceland, a tall reference point visible from all around town.

In some online photos, it looked like a solid concrete bulk. But up close, the minimalistic design and slim columns reminiscent of volcanic basalt, separated by slivers of transparent glass, felt airy and elegant. The interior felt serene because it was free of adornments.

Looking down from the Hallgrimskirkja church tower: Across the street, Einar Jonsson Sculpture Museum and Garden. Beyond, row of concrete homes painted green, blue, yellow, beige, gray, pink, red...mauve! Beyond, Tjornin Lake and the ocean.

As for the view from the tower, having seen Paris from the top of the Eiffel Tower as a toddler, then London, Taipei, Ulaanbaatar, and Seattle from up high, I had decided to skip seeing smaller Reykjavík from above. But when nature mirrored my mood, and the overcast sky turned clear blue and the sun warmed the day (after the weeks of cloudiness and frigid rain I had monitored before traveling), I changed my mind because it felt like an exceptional opportunity. I rode the elevator and climbed the few steps up to the observation deck. My experience was worth every Icelandic króna I paid.

The 360-degree view unexpectedly popped with the happy colors of roofs and buildings. I spotted the Reykjavik Airport where I once took a flight to Greenland, the oldest part of Reykjavik, new condo high-rises on the waterfront, the Harpa Concert Hall, ocean, mountains, and more.

A sign had warned me that the bells, hanging just above the observation deck, chime every fifteen minutes. I should have set an alarm to cover my ears just before, instead of just after the ringing stabbed my ear drums and rattled my rib cage.

From the observation deck, I saw the Einar Jonsson Sculpture Museum garden across the street, where I walked next.

Next week at The Intrepid Tourist: Part 2 of Walking Around Reykjavik, Iceland.

All text and photos, copyright Caroline Arnold. www.theintrepidtourist.blogspot.com

DESCANSO GARDENS, La Canada Flintridge, CA: Something in Bloom at Every Time of Year

Descanso Gardens, La Canada Flintridge, CA

Recently, when June Gloom brought day after day of cloudy weather to the California coast, we headed inland to get some sun. Our destination: Descanso Gardens, tucked in the hills of La Canada Flintridge, California, just a few miles from downtown Los Angeles. It was the perfect escape into nature from surrounding city life. Its many trails go through cultivated gardens and Southern California’s natural landscape. 

Climbing roses.

Famous for its camellias and tulips in the spring, Descanso Gardens has something new in bloom at every time of year. During our visit in June, the roses were in full bloom, as were the early summer garden flowers and wildflowers on the hillside.

Succulent in bloom.

After purchasing our tickets, we headed down the main promenade, past the seasonal plantings, before deciding which path to take.

Roses.

The gardens include a network of paths ranging from paved walkways to more secluded trails. Using a map we picked up at the entrance to guide our way, we made a circular tour of the gardens, starting with the promenade and roses, then walking around the lake to the oak woodland and California garden, then through the camellia forest and Japanese garden before returning to the entrance.

View of San Gabriel Mountains.

We made our way uphill to the California garden and got a view of the valley and the mountains beyond. 

Giant chalk dudlea.

Along the path we discovered California's only native succulent, Dudleya, and some of its relatives. 

Lizard.

As we walked along we kept an eye out for wildlife that makes the garden its home. An addition to birds, we spotted a ground squirrel, turtle, a mother mallard with her offspring, and a lizard that popped up on top of a fence, performed several pushups, and then scampered away.

Koi in the Japanese Tea Garden.

Throughout the gardens there are numerous benches and shelters inviting one to sit and enjoy the scenery. 

Poppies.

A visit to the garden is always an opportunity for photography, especially close-ups.

So many plants. So little time. We missed seeing the hilltop gardens and Ancient Forest. We’ll have to go back another day.

 For information about visiting Descanso Gardens, go to their website.

ANSEL ADAMS PHOTOS AT THE DE YOUNG MUSEUM, San Francisco, CA

Photo by Ansel Adams, Marin Hills from Lincoln Park, 1952

It is hard to picture the American West without thinking of Ansel Adams and his iconic black and white photos—of New Mexico, Yosemite, the San Francisco Bay area, and other places in the western US. A spectacular exhibit of 100 of Ansel Adam’s photos is currently on display at the De Young Museum in Golden Gate Park in San Francisco, California, along with the work of other photographers and artists who have been inspired by the same landscapes but interpreted them in their own way. 

At the de Young Museum, San Francisco, CA

The exhibit, called Ansel Adams In Our Time, reveals his continued relevance   “Adams’s legacy continues to inspire and provoke, influencing how we envision the landscape and serving as an urgent call to preserve our environment.”

We visited the museum with our granddaughter on a recent Sunday afternoon, reserving our timed entry tickets ahead of time. The rooms were crowded but people patiently waited their turn to get close to the photos. Only at close view can one appreciate the richness of the tones and sharpness of the images—from the range of grays in billowing clouds to the tiny cross on the top of the church in New Mexico.

The Golden Gate Before the Bridge, 1932. Photograph, gelatin silver print. Museum of Fine Arts, Boston.

Ansel Adams’ (1902-1984) grew up in San Francisco. His family home was not far from the cliffs above Seal Rocks. One of my favorite photos in the exhibit is the one he made one clear morning as storm clouds rolled in toward the Golden Gate. This was in 1932, shortly before the Golden Gate Bridge began construction. (The bridge was completed in 1937.)  He later recalled: “One beautiful storm-chasing morning I looked out the window of our San Francisco home and saw magnificent clouds rolling from the north over the Golden Gate. I grabbed the 8-by-10 equipment and drove to the end of 32^nd Avenue, at the edge of Sea Cliff. I dashed along the old Cliff House railroad bed for a short distance, then down to the crest of the promontory. From there a grand view of the Golden Gate commanded me to set up the heavy tripod, attach the camera and lens, and focus on the wonderful evolving landscape of clouds.”

The photo memorializes the vastness of the landscape as it was before its intrusion by human-made objects.

The Golden Gate from Telegraph Hill, photo by Carleton E. Watkins, 1868

The exhibit also includes historical photos, including one by Carleton E. Watkins, The Golden Gate  from Telegraph Hill, 1868. In contrast to Adams’ photo, the city dominates in this view of the Golden Gate entrance to San Francisco Bay while the natural landscape fades into the mist.

Canyon de Chelly National Monument Arizona, printed 1967.

Photos like Canyon de Chelly bring the grandeur of nature to the American public,

Ferns near Kiluea Crater National Park, Hawaii, ca 1948.

while  pictures like these ferns, seen close-up, celebrate the patterns and intricacies of the natural world.

Winter Sunrise, View from Lone Pine.

Most of the photos in the exhibit are relatively small prints requiring close inspection. But in Winter Sunrise, View from Lone Pine, California, printed large and framed in glass, the reflection of the museum gallery on the dark lower slopes creates a collage uniting viewers with the art. It is why people go to museums—to enjoy a personal relationship with the art. At the top of the photo, the snowcapped peaks of the Sierras rise to the skies above the dark hills below ,and at the bottom, frost rimed trees sparkle in the morning light. If you stand to the side to eliminate the reflection, you can see the photo as Ansel Adams intended. It is a brilliant picture.

This is only a small sample of the Ansel Adams photos in the exhibit. The accompanying art work by other artists is also worth a look. The tent camera photos by Abelardo Morell, in which the ground becomes integrated with the view, are unique. I wondered how the images were merged with the photo until I read the description of the method. (See below.)

Tent-Camera photos by Abelardo Morell.

A digital camera captures the reflection of the landscape on the ground in a tent made into a pin-hole camera.

But it is the Ansel Adams photos that are the star of the show. The exhibit will be up at the De Young Museum until August 6, 2023. If you don’t get to see it in person, you can buy the book in the museum shop (which we did) and enjoy it again and again at home.

NAMIBIA: Spectacular Dunes and Abundant Wildlife, Part II, Guest Post by Owen Floody.

Zebra at Etosha National Park, Namibia.

With many thanks to our friend Owen Floody, who was my husband's field partner on our trip to East Africa in 1971. Art and I have not been back to Africa since then, but Owen has made numerous trips in recent years and written about several of them for The Intrepid Tourist. His latest report chronicles a trip to Namibia—his third—and is accompanied by his excellent photographs.

Where the Namib desert meets the sea.

My previous post began with my description of a recent photo-tour of Namibia and ended as we flew by small plane from the red sand dunes of Sossusvlei to coastal Swakopmund, marking the tour’s transition from an emphasis on landscapes to one on wildlife. The flight itself provided a second look at the shapes and distributions of the Sossusvlei dunes. Particularly impressive was how abruptly the dunes end and the ocean begins. In addition, the flight permitted us to look down on one of the shipwrecks that give the Skeleton Coast its name. Finally, we viewed an impressive bank of mist extending inland from the ocean, as is very typical of this area.

These mists limited our activities in the Swakopmund area. One victim was a planned excursion to Walvis Bay in search of flamingos and other water birds. But we did see quite a few flamingos from the plane.  And the mists could not completely derail a Living Desert tour that exposed us to a few of the small creatures (chameleons, geckos, skinks, and spiders) able to make the dunes their home.

Gecko.

From Swakopmund, we continued on to our last two stops, Etosha National Park (in northern Namibia) and the Erindi Private Game Reserve (about midway between Etosha and Windhoek, our endpoint).  Even though we saw wildlife earlier in the tour, these were the areas that we expected to be the most wildlife rich.

The Etosha Salt Pan.

Etosha is the third largest of African national parks at 8600 sq mi, closely approaching the size of New Hampshire. Contained almost entirely within it is the Etosha Pan, a salt pan of about 1840 square miles. Etosha is dry, though average rainfall levels vary seasonally and regionally.  Due to its aridity, much of the wildlife viewing in Etosha occurs at waterholes, some natural, others man-made.  A few of these (including one a few feet from my room) are lit at night, permitting interesting views of a great variety of animals as they (very cautiously) visit to drink.

Giraffes and rhinos at the water hole.

Of the waterhole visitors, zebra are so photogenic as to be hard to beat. Nevertheless, the most prized nighttime visitors were the black rhinoceros and giraffes: I did not expect to see this many rhinos and was very pleased by the turnout.  And nothing could have beat the show put on for us by a large herd of elephants during a daytime waterhole visit. All of them, but especially one expressive and irresistible baby, had a grand time frolicking in the dust, water and mud.

Mother elephant and her calf having a mud bath.

Even though these sightings were great and made our visit to Etosha memorable, sightings of some other animals, especially big cats, were scarce. It was suggested that this reflected eastward movements of some animals in response to conditions that were unusually arid even by Etosha's standards.

Mother cheetah and her cubs.

We hoped that these gaps would be filled at Erindi.  And, to some extent, they were, as we were able to get good views of cheetah (6th image) and lions there. Unfortunately, at least some of these sightings came at what I considered unacceptable costs.  One of the benefits of private reserves is the ability to drive off road and at night.  And done judiciously, I think that these can be valuable.  However, our efforts to track a hunting mother cheetah suggested to me that the drivers at Erindi (which were not those attached to our tour) were prone to engage in two unethical practices.  First, they frequently plowed right through any shrub or small tree that might otherwise have required a detour. Secondly, several vehicles maintained positions close to and on at least three sides of the hunting cat. It is hard for me to believe that these intrusions didn’t compromise the hunt (which did end unsuccessfully). One of the drivers claimed that he knows the animals individually and well and would have broken off the pursuit if the animal was distressed. Perhaps this is true, but I am unconvinced. Since many of the cats are radio-collared, it should be possible to collect data on the outcome of hunts accompanied and unaccompanied by safari vehicles. If the success rates are similar, I will praise the sensitivity and skill of the drivers. Otherwise, I will give Erindi a pass, as I did on our remaining game drive.

Please bear in mind that this incident occupied no more than two hours of a 17-day trip.  Therefore, anyone attracted to Namibia but concerned about the incident should recall the saying about throwing out the baby along with the bathwater. Taken together, the sights and experiences of this trip for me elevate further a destination that already was one of my favorites. In my opinion, tweaking the itinerary would be an appropriate response, staying away would be overkill and unnecessary.      

Part I of Owen’s report appeared on July 3, 2023.

NAMIBIA: Spectacular Dunes and Abundant Wildlife, Part I, Guest Post by Owen Floody.

Namib Desert, view from the air.

With many thanks to our friend Owen Floody, who was my husband's field partner on our trip to East Africa in 1971. Art and I have not been back to Africa since then, but Owen has made numerous trips in recent years and written about several of them for The Intrepid Tourist. His latest report chronicles a trip to Namibia—his third—and is accompanied by his excellent photographs.

I recently returned from a 17-day photo-tour of Namibia, in southern Africa.  This was run by Joseph van Os Photo Tours and led by Mike Byrne.  Mike was a great organizer, leader and photographic mentor, whose efforts were enhanced by our expert Driver/Guides Jakes De Jager and Charl Schoombee, of the Swakopmund-based SafariWise. This was my third visit to Namibia. I have enjoyed them all, but this was the best, primarily because its itinerary was loaded with photographic must-sees.

Namibia is a moderately large country, about twice the size of California. It gained its independence just in 1990. It is the most arid country in sub-Saharan Africa and, not surprisingly, is very sparsely populated: Only Mongolia has a lower population density.  Nevertheless, it is blessed by striking landscapes and abundant wildlife. It was the goal of this tour to present both of these, with landscapes dominating the first half and wildlife the second.  My report will reflect this division, with the first installment focusing on landscapes followed by a second emphasizing wildlife.

Quiver trees.

The trip began with a long drive from Namibia’s capital, Windhoek, to a farm near Keetmanshoop.  This farm and area are notable for a concentration of grotesquely beautiful Quiver Trees.  It was our hope to photograph these in the late afternoon, at sunset, against the Milky Way, and at sunrise.  However, a nearly full moon forced us to give up on the Milky Way and focus instead on the other conditions and a different expanse of the night sky. As expected, the quiver trees were lovely, especially in the golden light of sunset and sunrise.

Abandoned house in Kolmanskop.

Next, we spent two days poking through and around Kolmanskop, a town that rose with the discovery of diamonds and crashed with their exhaustion.  It has been abandoned and besieged by the sands since the 1950s. Though not familiar generally, it is well-known among photographers for the striking images it offers suggesting decay and the power of natural forces.  However, I found it to present two faces. The predominant one is of rooms and buildings being gradually reclaimed by sand.  

Building in Kolmanskop, an abandoned diamond mining town.

Contrasting with these are a few other buildings and rooms that look as though you could move in tomorrow: Even though decay may be the dominant theme, some scenes speak more of resistance and resilience.

Dead Vlei salt pan.

Our next stop was Sossusvlei, the expanse of orange and red sand dunes that is Namibia’s greatest claim to fame. We had a wonderful morning wandering around Dead Vlei, a salt and clay pan packed with dead trees, some of which are thought to have died more than 500 years ago.  For me, the comparison to a modern dance troupe was irresistible.  

Sossusvlei.

In addition, we gaped at the surrounding fantastically shaped dunes. One of these is Big Daddy, a particularly tall (roughly 900 ft) dune with a commanding view. Big Daddy often is recognizable from the groups of people laboriously climbing its spine. 

"Big Daddy" sand dune.

In these explorations, we benefited from our tour’s ability to book us into the Dead Valley Lodge, one of a very few lodges located within the national park’s boundaries.  Whereas most visitors were held at the park gates until sunrise, we were able to get a valuable earlier start.

View from the air.

Some aspects of the Sossusvlei dunes are best appreciated from the ground.  However, such views cannot convey a sense of the extent of the dune field. The Namib Desert is large, extending 30-100 mi inland from the Atlantic Ocean and over 1000 mi along the coasts of Namibia and neighboring countries.  We were extremely fortunate to have two opportunities to see this desert from the air. First, most of us took optional helicopter rides over the dune field. Second, when it became time to leave Sossusvlei, we flew by small plane from there to Swakopmund, our next stop.

These views were wonderful and well worth the added expense. They reinforced our earlier impressions of the dunes’ remarkable shapes and textures. Both flights extended these impressions by revealing much more of the field’s huge size, with dunes marching off as far as the eye can see.

To be continued next week.