Location, location, location—works every time.
At the top of Skogarvoss, a rugged fairyland.
Snack time in the rock nests, for the little ones. A little patience helps the photographer.
Our first night in the tent proved to be a success. For reasons unfathomable, the sun shone from the
moment we began setting up our shelter until after breakfast the next morning. We took advantage of the situation
and developed a working system for the weeks to follow. It’s quite simple. We arrive in a town which might have
a population from less than a hundred to a few thousand. We register, pay our fees, inquire how the shower
facilities work and then proceed to erect our house. In the morning, we dismantle our home, pack it into a
small carry-bag, strip the beds, squeeze them into a sack each, fit the house, beds, pillows into a luggage bag,
pack the car and move to the next destination. We are extremely grateful that we don’t have to disassemble the
motor car. Jenni has no idea where the components fit.
Jenni reaches a safe position after some very tricky climbing on the edge. We followed some youngsters
who had taken the wrong path. Silly us.
One of many multiple falls and rapids along the Skogar River.
A full frontal of the Skogar Falls. We camped below it and viewed it in good light at 3am.
Each campsite has a different shower system. A few allow unlimited shower time, most charge on a meter
per 3 or 5 minutes period. That’s fine when we shower together as Jenni needs less time than her dear husband.
However, we are stymied when the shower cubicles are strictly for ‘his and hers’. A person walks into the
bathroom weighed down by a pocketful of change, secures the shower, readies oneself, feeds the meter and begins
to wash vigorously. The tricky part is getting out the cubicle and keeping the dry clothes from dropping on the
floor or getting wet, especially pants and socks. Ideally, one should be fit before entering the shower.
Why you may ask? To avoid athlete's foot, of course. By darting around the bathroom, one has a fair chance
of outpacing this malady.
Washing the clothes can be done manually or using the washing machine facilities. The drying of the said garments
is the challenge. However, a little imagination helps. In one place, there was a common room with water heaters.
We covered the heaters with our wet clothes. The little sunshine helps, ably supported by the heater in the car.
With clothes strewn all over the interior, we look like a traveling second-hand clothes shop. Perhaps, Jenni won’t
take offence from the last comment. It’s all part of the day.
Jenni on track through the wet wonderland as sun makes a brief (very) appearance.
Enjoying trying to capture birds in action.
We hiked eight miles through a rugged fairyland following the course of the Skogar River. It’s amazing
how many falls, rapids, twists and turns it makes in a relatively short distance. We have since found the
country is covered in waterfalls. Wherever one looks, particularly upwards, one sees water flowing from each
and every mountain, sometimes spaced at less than 100 meters apart. Not only are there a myriad of these flows
but they gush and barrel down the mountains powerfully. The idea is not to become blasé about waterfalls—we humans
tend to get used to wonders and thereafter take them for granted. Nevertheless, we find ourselves not taking
photographs of these sights that in another country would be considered breathtaking—the Sahara desert, for example.
A country filled with cascading waterfalls and weeping mountains.
The little ones waiting for dinner. Service is rather poor. Folks left for take-outs a while back.
Spending the night camped alongside Iceland's third highest waterfall, was a delightful experience. Fortunately,
in summer they don't turn off the water flow, allowing for an all day and night splash.
Cheers,
Jenni and Jeffrey
1 comment:
When I see volumes of water like this I realise just how arid SA is.
Post a Comment