Gufufoss on the road down from the pass

The road into Seyðisfjörður drops off the Fjarðarheiði pass in a series of hairpins, and the river beside it falls the whole way down in a chain of cascades. The largest is Gufufoss — the steam falls, named for the mist it throws — a broad, powerful drop into a mossy bowl a few metres from a small parking area, three kilometres above the town.

The short walk down to it is the entire effort, which is why it works so well in a session: you can be at a serious waterfall two minutes after leaving the car, in whatever the couple is already wearing. Frame from the lower path with the fall filling the background, or step round to the side where the moss and dark basalt make a green-black wall. The bowl holds soft light most of the day and the spray does the rest, so unlike most Icelandic waterfalls it does not demand a specific hour.

What it does demand is a plan for water. The mist that gives the fall its name gets on lenses within seconds and soaks clothing on a windy day; a cloth, a jacket and a short working set are the answer. In summer this is a green, dripping, moss-heavy place; in winter it builds heavy ice and the path can be unusable.

And the road matters more than the fall. Fjarðarheiði is a high mountain pass, frequently closed by snow and wind between autumn and spring, and it is the only road in — check road conditions before travelling, and understand that a closure means the town is unreachable, not just the waterfall. At the fall itself, the path is short but steep and slick in places, the rocks at the edge are wet and mossy, and the river above and below is fast: keep back from the water and off the boulders in the spray zone.