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But the next beach – aside from the so-called diamond beach at the outlet of the lagoon – was some distance away. It took as another one and a half hour until we reached the so-called Viking Café guarding the vast black sand beach at the foot of the might Vestrahorn. Like always the owner of the café made sure that we paid in advance before we got the permission to go to the beach.
We booked the combined tariff which allowed us to spend the night at the so-called camping – which actually is a simple parking lot and includes the right to use the shabby bathrooms of the café – and the price was a bit of a rip-off. Sure, it includes the permission to access the presumably privately owned beach and surrounding areas, but in my opinion the landlord is a bit greedy.
So, we paid and then we drove the short distance along the dirt track to the headland, from where we finally could see the sea. There was no wind at all, and some small waves were running in and broke nicely. They were just too small for surfing. The sky was cloudy and the air pretty cold here, and we needed a fire and some drinks to cope with the situation. The fantastic view on the cloudless Vestrahorn and the black beach compensated a bit for the lack of surf. So did the rum and Whisky and shared old stories.
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