I woke up with one thought: today's the day that could derail everything!
At 7:00am, we met up with Ségo, our French-Swiss-Scandinavian guide, and her easy bantering colleagues for our Silfra dive. A glacial meltwater-filled fissure, Silfra forms one finger of the Thingvallavatn lake in Thingvellir National Park. Its relatively still, dark surface belies a magnificent spectacle underneath of rock cliffs dappled in blue light. Or so promised Google. On the hour-long ride over, I mulled over how much I'd enjoy a prolonged submersion in 2-3°C water. In our last cold water dive in Boston, not only was there nothing but green murk to see, I came damn close to a panic attack when I found myself improperly geared and fingers unresponsive at a balmy 7°C. Nonetheless, we'd wanted to do this for months now and made Matt take a week off of work to come along, so there was no backing out.
I opted to go in before Chewie, so he can laugh at me if something goes awry. We did a quick weight check, and to my surprise my exposed face couldn't very well distinguish between freezing cold and f*ing-freezing-cold. I was just thankful that everybody was right, the visibility was in fact stunning.
I don't know how best to describe the experience, so here are some photos that Chewie took:
No drysuit malfunctions. Didn't drown. But I did almost die trudging the 300m gravel path back to the parking lot in full gear. Hot chocolate and scotoma followed.
And here are a few of pics from Ségo and our iPhones, so that Chewie can prove he was there :)