One hour later, we pulled up to the Geysir geothermal area. We could see the steam as we walked across the road to the entrance, our feet crunching in the dark gravel.
Thanks to the heat from the hot springs, I started feeling toasty enough to unzip my jacket. And the air smelled purely of sulfur; I couldn’t stop thinking of omelets!
This area’s namesake, Geysir, actually doesn’t erupt very often, but its neighbor, Strokkur, goes off every ten minutes or so. Ted and I made our way to it, carefully following the path that wove between the bubbling pools.
When we arrived, Strokkur was bubbling cheerfully. We chose the one spot that was free of other tourists and stood there, congratulating ourselves on our front-row seats.
Then it erupted. The water shot up, up, up…giving me just enough time to realize what was about to happen. Propelled by some inner instinct, I turned on my heel and tried to run to safety; Ted planted his feet and took more pictures as the water came down, down down…
Our chosen viewing spot hadn’t been claimed by other tourists for a reason: it was the splash zone! We were soaked afterwards.
Talk about having egg on one’s face!
Thanks for reading,