Outdoor Adventures in Iceland

One of the reasons we were on such a small food and drink budget for Iceland was because of all the activities and tours we were doing. We figured we couldn't visit a place with as varied topography and beautiful landscapes as Iceland and not get out and make the most of them.

Most activities are available year-round. Tour companies will take care of all the details and provide transportation and equipment, and many activities can be done nearby the main city of Reykjavik. In addition to our visit to the Blue Lagoon, our morning ride on the Icelandic horses, and our drive of the Golden Circle, we went snorkeling, caving, and dog sledding.

From the moment I saw a picture of a snorkeler in Silfra (a lake in Thingvellir, the place where the tectonic plates meet) , floating in absolutely crystal clear water, I knew we had to do this. Despite the fact that I have never snorkeled and am not really a fan of deep water, we booked the trip at $250 for the two of us.

The day before we were supposed to go, the company called and asked if we would mind also having lunch and then doing an underground cave tour for free. Of course we accepted.

After a 30-minute drive we arrived at Thingvellir, along with two girls from New York, and our guide Goddi. Goddi explained all the gear we would need to put on to make sure we stayed warm and dry - our first layer (for Dan: thermal shirt and long underwear, for unprepared me: tights, sweatpants and a turtleneck sweater), followed by a puffy down snowsuit, followed by an oh-so-unflattering dry suit, followed by boots, wetsuit mask, and gloves.

Getting dressed was difficult but entertaining. Especially once we put on the dry suits, which suctioned to our wrists and necks to keep water out, and had to then bend over and try to squeeze out any excess air. We each laughed as we pulled on our necks and whoosh of air was let out. Finally we waddled over to the entry point, a small staircase leading into the water. We got in one at a time, pausing to put on our flippers and masks, and then bobbed in the water as Goddi pressed on our suits once more to let the last of the excess air out.

I put my face in the water (freezing at first but eventually I barely noticed the cold) and was amazed by what I saw. I could see all the way to the bottom, probably one hundred feet or more. The water was completely crystal clear. I held my gloves up to my face; the red was as vibrant as if they were being illuminated by the sun.

We snorkeled around a chain of connecting inlets, marveling at the collection of rocks and the giant crevices below. Every once in a while a sheer wall would seem to rise in front of my eyes (I freaked out one time, thinking it was about to hit me in the face - it was impossible to judge distances in the clear water) and then as I floated over it the bottom would drop out and I would once again be left breathless, hovering as if on air above a 120-feet deep crack.

What felt like only minutes was actually an hour and all too soon we were done. But Goddi had one more surprise for us - jumping off a cliff into the water.

Goddi jumped first and then everyone followed, but I was scared. It wasn't the jump so much as the cliff itself. I'm notoriously clumsy and the path to the jumping-off point was muddy. What if I slipped along the way? Goddi held my hand and helped me off the rock and then, heart pounding, I jumped. Due to the buoyancy of the dry-suit, the moment I went underwater I was pushed back up again like a geyser. Before I even opened my eyes I was shouting "That was awesome!"

We all hiked back to the van and then struggled back out of the dry suits, surprised to find that we were all indeed completely dry except for our hands and hair. We ate a quick lunch in the car and then drove another 45 minutes to the lava fields for our cave tour.

As we made our way along the fog-covered winding roads of a mountain, the wind began to howl. Soon we could hear nothing but the rushing wind, pushing and pulling the van sideways on the road. Goddi explained that extreme winds in this area were common and often reached hurricane force. We reached our destination, marveling at a full rainbow in the distance, and then strapped on helmets and headlights. I was surprised to find that unlike on the other expeditions, we would not be provided with special clothes. In my knee-high black boots, skinny jeans, and black wool trench, I was severely over-(or under)dressed for this.

We made our way across the moss-covered lava field, occasionally being blown off-course by the whipping winds, until we came upon our cave.

Snow covered the entrance but we wiggled in and began our tour. Honestly, while the cave was very cool to see (my first) and sitting in the dark sipping cocoa was a unique experience, the main thing I got out of it was that I really see no reason for me to ever go in a cave again.

Maybe I would have felt differently had I been dressed appropriately, but stooping, crawling and crouching through a dark cave as water dripped on my head wasn't my favorite experience of the trip. I'm glad we did it, but I'm also very glad we didn't pay for it. In my opinion, seeing the lava field and the rainbow and experiencing the intense winds was much more exciting and memorable.

Dan's contribution to our activity schedule was dog sledding. I originally balked at the $500 price tag, but the idea of such a once-in-a-lifetime experience won me over. Unfortunately, the experience didn't live up to the hype for a variety of reasons. First, our guide picked us up at 10am and promptly informed us that we would meet the dogs an hour away at 2pm. In the meantime, he would drive us to Thingvellir, to see a waterfall, and to stop for coffee. I immediately had flashbacks to the great mountain tour hostage situation of 2008 (in Mendoza). But our tour guide was very friendly and incredibly informative and we did get to see some things we would not have seen otherwise.

We arrived at the black sand and volcanic ash beach near Vik just before 2, shimmied into insulated snow suits, and climbed on the "sled" which was actually a cart with wheels.

We set out along the desolate beach until we could no longer see the road behind us. In front of us stretched the seemingly endless beach.

Here's what you don't realize when you think about the romantic notion of dog-sledding. Without cool scenery around you, it's just an hour of staring at a dog's behind.

Luckily our guide was very entertaining, telling us stories of his home in Denmark and all about the dog's training. There was a puppy in training in the group who also made us laugh with his antics - he kept licking his mother in the face and trying to play.

After about 30-minutes we came upon the hull of an old Navy plane that had crashed in 1974.

In the distance we could finally hear the waves of the Atlantic Ocean, but it was foggy and slightly drizzling so we couldn't quite make it out. After a short break we turned around and headed back, climbed out of our suits and set out to return home.

It was 4pm, we were an hour away, and we needed to go pay for our snorkel tour before the shop closed at 6pm. But our tour guide wanted to stop at his favorite place for soup. I hated being rude but I told him we just wanted to go straight to the city.

As much as I adored the dogs and enjoyed the opportunity to see the black sand beaches, I was somewhat disappointed in the dog sledding. I felt like they decided to charge $500 and therefore had to make it seem more worth it, so they picked us up hours early and made it a full day tour. The actual dog sledding only lasted an hour. I would have much rather had a shorter tour with a smaller price tag. We also regret that we didn't get to experience the sledding on actual snow, but oh well, we can always try again.

There were several other activities we considered doing, like a glacier walk, but it would have stretched our time and budget too thin. Overall we were very happy with the experiences we had, but we both commented that we had never before been so bruised, battered and sore on a trip!