Jokulsarlon

Jökulsárlón

64°03′08″N, 16°21′37″W
Time of Visit

Jökulsárlón is one of the most recognized and oft-photographed features in the country. It is a glacial lagoon situated at the south end of the glacier Vatnajökull. Over 600 feet deep it has an emerald blue color and is dotted with large floating blocks of ice that have broken from the glacier. Occasionally you can hear this happening with a distant splash.

There is an amphibious boat ride that trolls around the lagoon and brings tourists close to the icebergs and to areas frequented by seals. This was something not to be missed. The ride took about 30 minutes. We were treated to many spectacular vantage points, when predictably, the arsenal of cameras fired away. One of these included a series of small bergs adorned by a group of seals. Again, click, click, click! Also of note, one of the guides fetched a small piece of ice from the lagoon and explained that it was thousands of years old. It was then broken into pieces and passed around as refreshment.

Exciting as this was, this was probably the loneliest part of the trip. I believe my project itself was the cause, which required a critical distance... I was working, not playing! While the other tourists were happily enjoying their time with their cameras, lost in the moment, my stance was much more pointed and directed. I had a job to do. By turning my lens on the tourists I thereby separated myself from them and implied some sort of difference. This felt alienating. I felt that I had missed out on something, perhaps the naïve bliss, perhaps the shared experience and company of others. My project felt jaded, cynical, mean-spirited…a killjoy. I almost decided to take the boat ride again and leave the camera in the car. I probably should have.

		Jökulsárlón 64°03′08″N, 16°21′37″W Time of Visit Jökulsárlón is one of the most recognized and oft-photographed features in the country. It is a glacial lagoon situated at the south end of the glacier Vatnajökull. Over 600 feet deep it has an emerald blue color and is dotted with large floating blocks of ice that have broken from the glacier. Occasionally you can hear this happening with a distant splash. There is an amphibious boat ride that trolls around the lagoon and brings tourists close to the icebergs and to areas frequented by seals. This was something not to be missed. The ride took about 30 minutes. We were treated to many spectacular vantage points, when predictably, the arsenal of cameras fired away. One of these included a series of small bergs adorned by a group of seals. Again, click, click, click! Also of note, one of the guides fetched a small piece of ice from the lagoon and explained that it was thousands of years old. It was then broken into pieces and passed around as refreshment. Exciting as this was, this was probably the loneliest part of the trip. I believe my project itself was the cause, which required a critical distance... I was working, not playing! While the other tourists were happily enjoying their time with their cameras, lost in the moment, my stance was much more pointed and directed. I had a job to do. By turning my lens on the tourists I thereby separated myself from them and implied some sort of difference. This felt alienating. I felt that I had missed out on something, perhaps the naïve bliss, perhaps the shared experience and company of others. My project felt jaded, cynical, mean-spirited…a killjoy. I almost decided to take the boat ride again and leave the camera in the car. I probably should have.