Stafafell

After we landed we were (eventually) collected by the rental car company and taken to pick up the car, an older VW Polo. When running, it sounded like a diesel engine was under the hood, but the manager assured us that because it was a little engine, it sounded just the way it should. We were sceptical, but because neither of us had ever driven a Polo, we accepted him at his word. This poor little car was in desperate need of a tune-up. It took a great deal of encouragement to get it going and it stalled pretty much everytime we slowed down too much. But it got us where we needed to go, (and back again).
Poor Geek started a cold on the 'plane, and wasn't able to get much sleep on the flight either. She drove for the first hour, and then we both needed a nap. We pulled over to the side of the road and slipped into a coma for about an hour. After trading seats, I drove and the Geek slept some more. I pulled over again a while later and had another little nap, and eventually we reached Höfn where we had supper and fed the car.
The Geek drove from there to Stafafell. We asked a local lass, who was walking down the road in her stockinged feet, where the hostel could be found. She claimed she didn't speak English and directed us to a nearby house where she said the people there did. The couple who answered the door spoke less English than the girl, but they sent us back the way we had come. I knocked and a rather haunted looking fellow answered the door of a rather aromatic house. He directed us to the house beyond the church and said he would meet us there. The Geek wants me to point out that as he took a shortcut across the cemetery, the car stalled for the first time; we had to push-start it.
The hostel itself smelled fine, but the owner, Sigurður, became very anxious when I asked him any questions about the place. The only thing I managed to pry out of him was his grandfather was the last pastor in the church and then stayed to farm the land near the church.
We explored a bit before collapsing into bed.
The church, built in 1868. Services are still held here on special occasions.
Looking toward the uplands.
A view toward the sea.
Sheep, of course.