Barnafoss, IcelandThe noise hit me before anything else. Standing at the edge of this gorge at Barnafoss, the Hvt river was deafening, forcing through a gap in the basalt maybe ten metres wide. Pale blue green glacial meltwater, the colour of old copper, churning white where it hit every obstacle. Snow covered the rock ledges on both sides, and several waterfalls poured in from the right, each one vanishing into the spray below. West Iceland in winter. Cold enough that