An Oasis, and An Accident

Driving through some beautiful inland scenery (by the way, there are VERY few trees in Iceland), we suddenly turned off the paved road, and started down a, well, I’m not sure.  It’s not exactly a dirt road, nor a gravel road.  I suppose it was an unfinished crushed lava road, bumpy and promising at the same time.

We eventually stopped at an oasis, the name of which I never caught.  Icelandic names range from the excrutiatingly difficult to the unbelievably impossible, so if there was not a sign to take a picture of, I have no idea.  Faithful readers of this blog will know I have zero facility for foreign language, but even Mrs. Iron Tourist can not follow the Icelandic language.  (Unfaithful readers of this blog?  Trust me, I have no skill at foreign language.)

The smart thing to do in Iceland is to take pictures of the info boards that include the name of where you are.  Because otherwise you will:

• Never remember it.
• Not be able to pronounce it.
• Have no idea how to spell it.

And that's the case with these falls.  They are not the most impressive falls, although the scene is like an oasis.  Very calming, peaceful, and green.  

The problem is, I don't know the name!

Anyhow, we did not make it a long stop, so this won’t be a long blog post.  There were two waterfalls, probably a couple hundred yards apart, and the two streams eventually merged.  We were high upon a lava hillock looking across at the view.  

Unfortunately, our friend Rich caught his tread on an unmovable lava rock, tripping and falling.  He scraped his knee up pretty well, as well as damaging a bicep.  He was lucky the damage wasn’t worse, as he easily could have hit his head.  

Beyond that calamity, it was a nice stop.  (Besides that, how did you like Dallas, Mrs. Kennedy?)