This site is located on the Snaefellsnes peninsula – a region some have described as a microcosm of the whole country. Various examples of Iceland’s diverse landscape can all be found here and visited depending on the season. I had played with the idea of limited the scope of my whole trip to Snaefellsness, thereby photographing a limited area in more depth. I think this would have been a good idea save for one major concern: the terrible weather. The western-most region of the island, it is pounded by storms from the northern Atlantic. When I was there the wind and the rain were unrelenting. It was a good plan to keep moving. At one point, I had naively asked the receptionist at a tourist info center if she had heard the most recent weather forecast…what her look communicated, without any accompanying words, was very clear: "I am so tired of people like you asking that…it rains here, okay! All the time! If you don’t like it, go somewhere else and leave us alone!"
Beach Stones
Before my trip, I had seen photographs from this region. I remember images of black rock formations adorned with the multiple colors of seaweed and algae. On some level, I was looking for these. I read about two interesting bays along the coast, Djúpalónssandur and Dritvik. The two bays can be visited in one trip, linked by a short hike. The first, the larger of the two, features a black sand beach adorned with small perfectly polished small pebbles, as well as the famous lifting stones used to test the strength of aspiring sailors. Also interesting to me was a bizarre outdoor art gallery. Photographs of various scenic wonders from around the country were mounted on sheet metal and affixed to the rock formations around the bay...as if the immediate surroundings weren’t interesting enough.
The images I made were from the second bay, Dritvik. The wind and rain were severe, lending an ominous and sublime quality to the setting. Frankly, I wasn’t interested in making pictures, in spite of my ambitions to photograph the dramatic sea-stacks and picturesque coves. The weather made shooting with the large-format next to impossible. The dark-cloth whipped too and fro, and the roar of the disturbed sea was intimidating. I believe the tide was coming in. At several points I had to check my judgment…was it smart to stand here? At one point, I dropped a lens cap, which was immediately lapped up by the waves very quickly drawn out to sea. Woops. Finally, I was able to find an area that was somewhat sheltered by the rocks and sideways rain and make a few images. When done, I made a hasty retreat to the car…
