Through a dreamy haze I hear someone calling my name, telling me there is something I might want to see. This better be good, it is 6:30 in the morning and I am not ready to get up. Slowly I rouse and peak my head out of our condensation covered tent. The sun is rising over the Skaftafell Glacier. It's beautiful and not something I get to witness everyday, so Pete is forgiven. 

The sky is clear and blue. Sluggishly we pack up, not wanting to leave this spot. Not far into our drive we stop at an unmarked dirt track. It leads us to to the edge of a glacial tongue. We are so close to the ice that it seems as though I can reach out and touch it. We sit for awhile listening to the ice crack and shift, making us feel small. From my periphery I see a tiny figure walk onto the ice, break out an axe and start chipping away, perhaps doing some sort of geological surveying. I want so badly to follow him, but Pete reminds me that without the right equipment and a guide I could fall through a crevasse, to a bloody, painful death. I decide against it. I could sit here all day, but we have some place to be.....  

Jökulsárlón is a glacial lagoon where ice falls from Europe's largest glacier creating floating iceburgs that parade out to sea. I have seen tons of photos, but was still not quite prepared for the site of it. The water is a freakish milky blue or crystal clear depending where you stand. Even with camera toting tourists scattered along its black sanded shore it still a magnificent sight to see.  

Because we are tired of driving, the day ends early in the oceanside town of Hofn, eating it's signature dish, langoustine, for lunch and dinner. We treat ourselves to a stay at my most favorite B+B yet and wash the day down with a local beer brewed from thousand year old glacial water.