Nostalgia well and truly today. We awoke to a pretty but sobering scene of snow all over the ground. Not a lot, maybe 3-4cm covering, but enough to make me wonder if this was what it was like at sea level, then the driving today will certainly be going over that elevation. I had long promised a work friend Mitch to visit the Dritvik stones. It has been a surprise that there has been little-no reference made about the strongman culture here, and again here, even at the stones there was not much about it.

The drive to the cove where the lifting stones are found was tricky. Lots of snow, slush, other drivers being what I would consider unsafe...and an unfamiliar sensation for me with driving. But, we made it, and I only nearly managed to slip off the road in the carpark...hmm. So, the story goes like this. Each year up until the 1940s, in March-September, hundreds of fishermen (most of whom were local farmers too) would come down to Dritvik Cove and set up camp. It is a beautiful spot with lots of volcanic features in the surrounds with a backdrop of the iconic volcano with its snowcapped glacier on top. They would spend the months there, out fishing for cod mostly but basically whatever they could catch. Of course, life was tough in the villages and they lived in low built stone walled "rooms" with animal skin stretched over the top for cover. There was really not much to burn other than a small amount of seaweed and dried manure from their farms. Unreal. The stones themselves were for a test of strength to see your usefulness on the fishing boats. The smallest, at 23kg, if lifted meant you were actually not useful at all and could not go out. The next at 54kg meant you could do jobs on board but not much of the rowing. The 100kg was half strong (I just managed to get this one up onto my shins so I'm calling it) and could row and pull nets. The 150kg that I could only roll onto its side for full strong meant you could do all jobs and attracted the highest pay on the ships. You could see how dangerous the waters were, I reckoned steeper than the ones at Vik, but not as popular so not the signage!!! The beach was lovely with black pebbles covered with snow, and also a wreck from a British steamer that ran aground there in the 1940s. Bronnie managed the smallest stone but only just got the 54kg off the ground on video review...phew...she can sail (not that the women did).

We then decided to retrace our steps rather than go around the end of the peninsula since we'd done it once. En route we popped into a visitor centre and tried some of the local delicacy of Dulce (dried marine herb) and Sweet kelp...Bronnie's fave. Whilst travelling we have also tried some of the dried fish (like stockfish, salted and super dry) that is 96% protein in nutritional status. Texturally not amazing but quite tasty. We also stopped at a fissure in the mountain side where you could walk up to it and inside (Tim) which was a nice feature and location of our souvenir black lava rocks.

The rest of the drive, refuel and trip to our overnighter ready for a 4am wake up tomorrow was uneventful. The virus still causing pain (today in my jaw/cheeks like a toothache...really hoping it pisses off soon, and Bronnie struggling with coughing at night especially). We spotted the erupting Keflavik volcano en route which was fun to see but it isn't likely to stop our flight in the morning as we head for Croatia via Frankfurt. Iceland has been truly epic and a once in a lifetime visual bonanza. A bit more to process over the coming days on reflection but what a ride it has been.