Fjaðrárgljúfur Canyon appears seemingly from nowhere. It’s off the main highway a ways and finds its chiselled self rather abruptly cut from the rolling grass covered hills that fall away to reveal some of the most peculiar rock formations I’ve seen. As it is still wintry and what isn’t covered in snow is covered in a slick mud the rock outcroppings that have treads worn in them from the summer crowds are roped off and look more than a little dangerous. Our timing was quite good, we were heading up towards the falls when everyone else was heading down and we had a ten or fifteen minute gap before anyone else came up behind us. Those moments are special, when you can stop and watch the scenery in silence without having to fight for a view that twenty people are lined up behind you fighting to see. That’s why travellers fly across oceans to look at things they’ve often already seen photographs of. It feels different to be there. More senses are involved and it goes beyond just seeing the beauty of a place.