The Iceland Logbook

I'll be back!

2012-01-05T19:46:00.000+01:00

Next trips to Iceland:
February 2-12, 2012
July/August 2012

2011-12-27T20:19:00.000+01:00

Winter Wonderland in Reykjavík

2011-12-26T20:15:00.000+01:00

Snowy Christmas in Reykjavík

Northern Lights and goodbyes

2011-09-12T18:04:00.002+02:00

Two nights ago I finally saw the northern lights for the first time in Iceland. The internet predicted good viewing conditions and the sky was clear. Before it was even completely dark, I could see them dancing across the sky from the window. I went down to the ocean to watch them and lots of other people were out looking as well. The next night, the lights gave another nice display. They really are mainly green, and only once briefly did I see a flash of purple. As I kid I saw the northern lights in North America and I remember them being very colorful. But I’m certainly not complaining. This was a real special treat and the perfect way to end my birthday trip to Iceland.

I’ll be back for Christmas ...

Enjoying Reykjavík

2011-09-10T20:01:00.000+02:00

Photos: Reykjavík

Enjoying Reykjavík, beautiful fall weather, quite windy at times but clear blue skies every day.

Rain ... and going back to town

2011-09-06T22:48:00.003+02:00

Photos: Random pictures taken at Þórsmörk

I’m up early as usual. It’s raining on and off. After breakfast, I pack up and turn in the key to the hut. I’m taking the bus back to Reykjavík today. Then I head outside to pick some berries. I head out along the river Markarfljót and up the trail there that I was on the other day, my eyes trained to the ground looking for berries. I don’t see any blueberries, so I end up picking crowberries (krækiber) instead. I fill an empty juice bottle with berries, but then the rain finally wins the battle and I admit defeat. I spend the rest of the day in the cafe, just reading and watching the rain out the window. The bus finally comes in the late afternoon.

Back in Reykjavík, the weather is fine. The owners of the small apartment pick me up at the bus station and I check into my little home for the next six days.

Þröngsá

2011-09-05T23:32:00.005+02:00

Photos: (1-2) Húsadalur; (3) river Krossá; (4) Alaska? Þórsmörk!; (5) river Markarfljót; (6) river Þröngsá

I’m off on my own today. It’s a bit cloudier but dry, although it rained quite a bit in the night. I head out at 10am for a hike, heading first through Hamraskógar forest, then north up the popular Laugavegur trail to the river Þröngsá. There I make myself comfortable perched up on a hill, spreading my rain jacket on the ground and pulling out a bag of nuts. I‘m going to sit and watch the hikers cross the river. This river, deep in spots with a strong current, often poses a challenge to hikers and it‘s entertaining to watch how each person deals with it differently. Some walk up and down for nearly an hour, looking for the best spot to cross. Some plow right through it without even taking off their boots, and probably regret it afterwards – it‘s deeper than it looks! in any case, the Þröngsá is relatively harmless unless it‘s been raining heavily, and is best crossed where it‘s wider since narrow spots are often deeper. Still, it‘s a serious river where hikers ideally should switch into wading gear and be careful. Today I am able to watch about 10 people cross and I chat with a few of them. Then just for fun, I take off my shoes, zip off the legs of my pants, put on my wading shoes and test the waters myself – although I have no intention of actually crossing. It‘s fun as I test out various spots. The current is indeed quite strong and the water up to my thighs in spots – and without a heavy backpack, it knocks me off balance a bit. To dry off, I meander down the river bed as far as I can, examining rocks.

It’s noontime and I head back east on the trail to Básar, where I come across a pleasant French guy having lunch. After exchanging a few words, I sit down to join him and he’s even willing to share some of the culinary snacks he’s brought with him from France. Soon it gets quite chilly sitting around so we get moving again. I decide to accompany him for a few kilometers on his way to Básar. For me it’s quite out of the way, and I will probably have to turn around eventually and head back, but for now it sounds like a good idea. The trail is narrow and quite steep in spots – it’s one of the numerous smaller trails leading through the national park. Eventually I turn back and we part ways after first exchanging email addresses – it would be nice to hear exactly where this trail leads and if he makes it to Básar ok.

Returning along the same trail, everything looks different and I discover a humungous mushroom the size of my hiking boot. After an extensive photo session with the model mushroom, I continue downhill on the trail - and slip, sliding and skinning my knee. Although my knee is bleeding, there’s no hole in my trousers. I’m absolutely fine but for a few moments I am aware of how fast accidents can happen, even when you think you’re being careful. So after all that excitement, I soon find a nice spot in the grass overlooking a different part of the Þröngsá and take a nap. I doze for about half an hour before it gets too chilly. The clouds are rolling in and I decide to call it a day and slowly head back to Húsadalur before it rains. On the trail back I notice numerous tire tracks – looks like mountain bikers, and a whole group at that.

Back at base camp, the mountain bikers are there, taking showers and packing their gear into the truck. It doesn’t look like they’re staying overnight. But some of the other huts are full now, and it begins to rain. I guess no one likes camping when it’s wet. I just rest and relax most of the evening in my cozy hut, and venture out in the evening during a break in the rain for a short walk.

Valahnjúkur and more

2011-09-04T22:02:00.003+02:00

Photos: (1) Langidalur; (2) Rainbow; (3-4) River Krossá; (5) On top of Valahnúkur

There’s a beautiful sunrise this morning. The weather is so incredibly warm and mild with no wind. After a nice breakfast, we’re all on the trail by 9. Today we hike to Langidalur, and then up Valahnúkur. The last time I hiked up this mountain the weather was miserable, windy and rainy. Today it’s so mild that we take a really long break at the top, just lying around in the grass. The view, of course, is amazing. We head back down the other side and walk east along the ridge Merkurrani, before swinging back around to Húsadalur.

After a nice lunch, we check out the local cave Sönghellir. Then Súsanna and her sister pack up camp and we all wait for the bus. One of the cooks from the kitchen passes by with a big bucket of fresh picked mushrooms and we stop to chat with her. I’ve noticed that the hillsides are filled with mushrooms. It would be fun to pick some and make them for dinner.

After my friends are gone I take another walk, this time along a marked trail starting along the river Markarfljót. But after an hour I return to camp, take a hot shower and relax in my little hut. What luxury! I even have my laptop with music and some small speakers. It’s fun just to sit at the window with a mug of hot chocolate, listen to music and look outside. When the sun begins to set, walk along the river again to see the amazing colors, and I’m not disappointed.

Arrival in Þórsmörk/Húsadalur

2011-09-03T22:14:00.001+02:00

Photos: (1) On the way to Þórsmörk; (2) Resting during a nice hike; (3) Wearing my warm woolies waiting for dinner; (4-5) Amazing sunset

I’m up early and walk to the BSÍ bus station at 7am. It’s such a warm, peaceful morning. All the geese, ducks and birds are still sleeping and the streets are still. At the bus station, I meet my friend Súsanna and her sister, who will be coming along. It will be nice to have some company on this trip after hiking alone most of the summer. In typical Icelandic fashion, Súsanna has a big cooler filled with edible treats and goodies that I would never of dream taking into the highlands. But it turns out to be a great idea and I’m grateful to help her eat everything she puts on my plate. Anything is better than the freeze-dried backpacking food I have along.

In Hella we switch busses, there are only 2 other people in the bus besides us. The bus driver is kind, and snaps a picture of us during a rest stop. In Húsadalur my friends set up their tents while I get my room. I admit it will be nice to have a bit of luxury this time, especially if the weather gets bad. At the reception, I’m given a free upgrade and receive an entire cottage for the price of a single room. The lady says a large group is staying in the hut with the rooms and it might be a bit loud. What a great birthday present! My cottage is fantastic, with 4 bunk beds to choose from and a kitchen with a gas hotplate and a sink, and even a kitchen table and a few stools. Each cottage has its own grill and picnic table, which we will use later this evening.

After a quick cup of coffee we head out for a long hike. The weather is fantastic with a bit of evening sun. Later Súsanna gets the grill going and makes an awesome dinner. There are even grilled bananas with chocolate for dessert. We’re able to sit outside, even though it gets quite chilly. Everyone has a wool sweater on and those are really warm! After dinner we take another walk along the river. The sunset is amazing, and the colors in the sky are beautiful. The red above the mountains looks like a volcano erupting.

Fall birthday trip to Iceland

2011-09-02T23:23:00.002+02:00

Photos: (1) View from the hotel window; (2-4) Mushrooms, blueberries and crowberries, taken over the next few days in Þórsmörk

I’m on my way to Iceland again! This is my birthday trip. I will be turning 40 this month and what better way to celebrate such a milestone than with a trip to my favorite place in the world? Originally I considered doing something really big and special for this trip to Iceland, like climbing the highest peak Hvannadalshnjúkur (2,109 m/6921 ft) or hiring a guide to take me to the top of a mountain that has always fascinated me – Hrútafell (the one along the Kjalvegur hiking route). Later I decided on a more relaxing alternative – spending a few days in Þórsmörk, a nature reserve in the southern highlands, nestled in a valley between glaciers, that is known for its lush vegetation. Although I’ve been there once before in the summer a few years ago, fall is a special time of the year with the vegetation turning brilliant colors and the hillsides abundant with various berries and mushrooms. However, the destruction of my tent a few weeks ago changed my plans a bit.

I arrive in Reykjavík the early evening and check into my room at the Salvation Army Guesthouse. It’s a mild 15°C (60°F). The recent hurricane Irene that caused bad weather on the US east coast brought this mild, unusually warm weather to Iceland. After buying groceries for my trip into the highlands tomorrow, I meet a friend or dinner. It’s Friday night in the city, the weekend party is in full swing, and the walls are so thin at the guesthouse that sleep is next to impossible. But I’m on vacation and don’t mind one bit!

Another summer adventure comes to an end

2011-08-14T21:46:00.000+02:00

There’s a big full moon over Reykjavík when I get up at 4am. At the airport, the airplane from the Iron Maiden Final Frontier World Tour 2011 is docked at the gates. I later check their tour schedule and see that they never played in Icleand – were they there taking a day off, maybe bathing in the Blue Lagoon? I have my favorite seat in the airplane - last row window on the side with the best view. I’ll be back, Iceland, in less than three weeks!

A few days in Reykjavík

2011-08-11T23:44:00.001+02:00

Photos: Scenes of Reykjavík

Yesterday I spent the day in Eystri-Sólheimar just sitting in the sun reading. Today I’m back on the road to Reykjavík for a few days in the city before I fly back to Germany. I spend the next few days mostly meeting friends, but also visiting the maritime museum, the new concert hall Harpa, and trying out new cafés and restaurants.

Travel day

2011-08-09T22:09:00.003+02:00

Photos: (1) Barren, flat-topped mountains; (2) Hallgrímskirkja from a different perspective

It’s a sunny day again. At 8am it’s already quite warm. I chat a long time with the girl at the hotel reception. I like interrogating the locals, hearing what people do, how they live here, where they come from and where they’re going. Funny but I’ll miss her – she’s been so helpful during my entire trip. A bus comes to take me to the airport for ISK 500.

It’s great weather for flying and I have a window seat. The fjords are amazing from above – sheer rock cliffs yet so flat and desolate on the top. Barren rock. It looks like a hostile environment up there, a barren desert.

I have a few hours in Reykjavík and after storing by backpack at the BSÍ (ISK 500 per day), I use the time to shop and take some pictures. The bus to Vík leaves at 5pm and then I am on my way to Eystri-Sólheimar for a couple of days to pick up my city supplies and relax. I recognize the bus driver from my many trips on this route. He’s a local guy who grew up on a farm near Pétursey and always seems quite proud to let me off in his old neighborhood. The bus ride is quite entertaining. An American guy gets off in Selfoss and buys food át the Kentucky Fried Chicken, despite warnings that the bus is only stopping for 5 minutes. The bus leaves without him and he comes out running frantically. We end up waiting for him, of course, and he stinks up the bus with smells of greasy chicken. He then promptly begins to flirt nonstop with the young Icelandic girl working as the bus driver’s assistant. She spends the entire trip napping on one of the seats and can’t be bothered to take money or count the passengers, but she is eager enough to flirt back. At least it keeps her occupied enough to keep her awake. Then there is an Icelandic teenager from Ísafjörður, who speaks hardly a lick of English and is going to work at the Hotel Lundi in Vík. In fact, this young guy has never left his hometown. It brings new meaning to the name of the annual music festival held in Ísafjörður called „Aldrei for ég suður“ („I never travelled south). I also chat with a father and son from Germany on their way to hike Laugavegur. So the three-hour bus ride goes quite fast.

It’s good to be in Eystri-Sólheimar again, with friends, wine and great food.

Last day in the Westfjords

2011-08-08T21:07:00.001+02:00

Bright sun and blue sky – this is getting boring :-) This is my last day in Ísafjörður and I am just hanging out, being lazy. Museum, walks, café, reading in the sun. I discover a small park behind the hospital, and also spend a lot of time closely examining the houses that are for sale, thinking about what it would be like to live in Ísafjörður. I’m consciously creating a state of boredom, and boredom is good – it makes me restless and want to move on.

Bike ride to Súðavík, hike up Naustahvilft

2011-08-07T23:04:00.003+02:00

Photos: (1-2) On the road out of Ísafjörður; (3) Avalanche memorial; (4-5) The Arctic Fox Center; (6) On the top of Naustahvilft; (7) View of Naustahvilft and Ernir from Ísafjörður

I’m up at 7:15 as usual and fill up at breakfast at the hotel. After staying 3 nights in a Hotel Edda, one breakfast is for free and today is a good day to use that since I will be renting a bike again for a day trip.

I leave at 11 for Súðavík, the next town in the other direction and the location of the Melrakkasetur – or the Arctic Fox Center. There’s a bit more traffic than I’m used to and I wish I had one of thse neon vests for safety. My hiking clothes are mostly black. It’s also a pain cycling in hiking boots but I don’t have much choice about that! The weather is great again and I stop for lots of photos along the way. There is a group of kayakers in the fjord – someday I’d like to try that as well.

I arrive in Súðavík at 1:00 and circle around the town first, looking at the campsite and the nice children’s playground. There was an avalanche here in 1995 that killed 13 people and there’s a memorial and a board explaining everything. Building avalanche walls is expensive, so instead of investing the money in that, the town decided to actually move the town itself to the other side of the valley where there is less danger. Quite an interesting story.

At the fox center, I first sit outside in the sun for a long time, sipping coffee and eating cake. The sun is just so warm and wonderful, and I take of my smelly boots and air out my feet. Finally I go through the small museum and watch all of the films on display. I spend a lot of time in there, although it’s quite small.

Back on the road near Ísafjörður I decide to hike up the bowl-shaped mountain called Naustahvilft (225 m), despite being quite tired from the 45 km bike ride. The bowl is in the evening sun and I’ve always wanted to hike up here. It’s such a beautiful, unusual mountain. The slope is steep but grassy, and there are several paths. A handful of other people come and go as well, including an Icelandic mother and her young daughter. Again I really wish I had a mountain like this in my back yard – I would be in great shape if I could do this every day! At the top there is a guestbook, which I sign, and I’m the 22nd person to sign today! The view from the top is spectacular, looking out over the fjord to Ísafjörður.

Back in town, I have a budget burger this time at the Cafe Edinborg. On the way back to the hotel, I stop at the gas station for a candy bar. A really smelly fisherman, who seems so exhausted that he’s zombie-like, buys four sandwiches and two bottles of coke. Poor guy, out on a boat all day and no one at home to cook him a decent meal.

The old ski area in Ísafjörður

2011-08-06T22:37:00.002+02:00

Photos: (1) Gamla Bakari; (2) Futuristic greenhouse; (3) Tunnel through the avalanche wall; (4) Mountain colors; (5) Evening soccer game

I take an early morning stroll at 7:15. There’s a large cruise ship docked here full of Germans and they flock the museum for pictures. The local kids are dressed in traditional garb doing a little dance. The Germans seem to be pretty enthralled.

I have breakfast at the Gamla Bakari, coffee and vinarbrauð and buy a tasty bagel sandwich to take along today for lunch since I will be out hiking again. After packing a day pack back at the hotel, I hike up to the old ski area (4 km). I was up here snowshoeing in the winter a few years ago and would like to take another look. The area used to be used for downhill skiing but it was once damaged during an avalanche. It’s now used for cross country skiing only.

The weather is great again today but quite windy. I hike all over the place, up and down the hills and check out the old ski lifts. A few other people are out here doing the same thing. Then I have lunch inside the hut, which offers a fantastic view of the town and fjord. On the way back down the hill into town, I stop at the avalanche walls, which offer shelter from the wind, and take a nap in the grass. I really love napping in the outdoors!

Later, next to the hotel, there’s a soccer game going on. Seems like the whole town is out watching and cheering. I join the crowd and watch as well.

Þingeyri -->Ísafjörður

2011-08-05T21:19:00.002+02:00

Photos: (1) Nordic mythology graffiti in Ísafjörður; (2) Cemetery and church; (3) Back streets; (4) plokkfiskur

I’m going to miss this town, Þingeyri. I would really love to come back in the winter. And I will definitely come back to finish my hike! But for now it’s time to move on. This time I take the regular public bus at 12:30 back to Ísafjörður, which is much cheaper (ISK 350) and more frequent than the tourist bus. The only information on this bus is in Icelandic, so this is definitely an andvantage here to speak the language. As a result, there are only Icelanders on the bus. We stop in Flateyri to drop off some newspapers; it looks like a cute little town and I will surely visit it one day. Soon we are back in Ísafjörður. One old man asks to be dropped off at Bónus so I figure it can’t hurt to ask to be dropped off directly at the Hotel Edda. Sure, no problem! I check into a room, which I reserved by telephone a few days in advance.

I don’t have anything planned today, except I would really love to have some real food. I’ve been eating my hiking food, or getting an occasional hot dog, but I would really like something different. There’s a new café in Ísafjörður this year (at least new from the last time I was here a few years ago). It’s a big yellow building near the swimming pool. The menu is short and the prices quite expensive, but the plokkfiskur is fantastic and the atmosphere is cozy. Plokkfiskur is like mashed potatoes, only it’s mashed fish. In the past when fish was often served several times a week, this was the standard way of using up leftovers. It is traditionally served with rye bread and I really like it!

Mountain bike to Svalvogaviti

2011-08-04T22:22:00.004+02:00

Photos: (1) French cemetery; (2-5) Along the road; (6) King of the Hill; (7) Resting in a field of sheep poo; (8) Svalvogaviti lighthouse; (9) Collecting gravel to fix the road

I’m making tea in the kitchen at 7:45. It’s mostly sunny with a few wispy clouds – a promising day. I’ve been watching some men build a house outside my window. It’s incredible how they work in the wind and rain from 8am to 9pm every day. I can see the progress in just a few days. The summers are short here and they can’t allow themselves a break for bad weather. I also have a charming view of the cemetery from my window.

At 10am I rent a mountain bike at the café. The bikes are quite expensive but they’re of the best quality. I’ve never been on a bike like this and it’s really fun. The suspension system makes the ride feel bouncy and if I hit the brakes read hard, I’m sure I would fly over the handlebars. I take the road out of town that I had hiked just a few days ago. I pass the airport and instead of heading into the valley, I continue along the road. This is the road I would have hiked on my way back from Lokinhamrar and I want to see as much of it today on bike as possible.

My first stop is a cute little French cemetery. Unfortunately I don’t know the history of this little site. Soon I reach a marked hiking trail through Lambadalur to Lokinhamrar. There will be many marked trails leading into the valleys along the way, so this is certainly a friendly place to hike. Then I come across a little settlement of houses. A lady is working in her garden, a farmer is on his tractor – a lively little place and a beautiful spot to live. But these are the last inhabited houses and soon the gravel road gets worse and occasionally I pass a deserted farm. There are still sheep everywhere, grazing on the side of cliffs and looking curiously.

The road hugs the ocean and it’s a spectacular ride. At first everything is quite rocky, but soon the green valleys reveal plenty of streams for getting drinking water. The green grass is inviting and I take a break lying in the sun, until I realize that there is sheep poo everywhere. It looks like the sheep are playing King of the Hill on a rock, which I enjoyed playing as a kid on snowbanks. For those of you who don’t know the game, I find the Wikipedia definition amusing and accurate:

„King of the Hill is a children's game, the object of which is to stay on top of a large hill or pile (or any other designated area) as the "King of the Hill". Other players attempt to knock the current King off the pile and take their place, thus becoming the new King of the Hill. Ordinarily pushing is the most common way of removing the king from the hill, but there are significantly rougher variations where punching or kicking is allowed.“

Soon there’s a sign warning that access is for jeeps only, and the road is indeed treacherous. Later it becomes grassy again and I pass a small summer house. Finally I reach my destination for the day – the lighthouse Svalvogaviti. I’ve rounded the peninsula and have a great view of Arnarfjörður fjord, which I have heard claims to be the most beautiful fjord in Iceland. I climb the lighthouse for a better view. Afterward, I chat with an Icelandic couple on bikes as well. They just have daypacks, but say they spent the night in a tent biking around the peninsula. Unfortunately I won’t make it all the way to Lokinhamrar – I’ve already travelled 25 km and need to turn back. I still don’t feel too great because of the cold I have so I don’t wan’t to overdo it. Besides, it’s always nice leaving something undone.

The wind picks up on the way back and the ride seems to go faster. I spot a jeep and two guys shovelling gravel into a trailer. I stop for conversation and ask what they are doing. They are from the farm Meðaldalur and are using the gravel to fix the road to their farm. Throughout the day I ran into about 8 jeeps and I noticed that my phone worked just about everywhere – just not where I was stranded the other day!

I arrive back in Þingeyri in the late afternoon and have another waffle at the cafe. I’m so tired from the 50 km bike ride today that even the coffee doesn’t help. So I take a quick nap and then take a swim at the pool. What an awesome day!

Hike up Sandafell

2011-08-03T21:32:00.002+02:00

Photos: (1) Kirkjbólsdalur valley; (2-4) On top of Sandafell mountain with a view of the village Þingeyri; (5) Vegetation on the road up Sandafell; (6) Boats in the harbor; (7-8) Details on the beach

It’s raining still in the morning but it stops by 10:30. I was thinking of renting a mountain bike at the café but I’m not sure what the weather will do and I’m still not feeling well. I grab my daypack instead for a short hike up the local mountain, Sandafell (374 m). The sun comes out on the way and it turns into a clear blue sky.

The short hike (4 km one way) is beautiful. It follows the paved road out of town for a bit, past the mountain, and then a jeep track turns left up the back of it. There’s a great view on the top of both valleys and I can see the route I hiked. The blue fjord is amazing from above and the view of the little town is cute. There’s some kind of radar station at the top. Since the weather is so great, I stay up there a long time until it finally gets chilly. Heading back down the jeep track, I think of the story the lady at the tourist information center told me yesterday: Once a female tourist hiked to the top alone and tried taking a different route straight down the other side. She fell and died.

Back at the guesthouse, I take a break and a nap and head to the café again for a snack before continuing my explorations. I take a great long walk along the beach. It’s still mild, sunny and warm. I spend hours picking at shells, rocks and more jelly-like creatures. Afterwards I have a hot dog at the gas station and head to the pool for a dip in the hot tub. Like yesterday, there are only Icelanders here, and the lady taking money recognizes me and is very kind. The pool has lots of windows which offer a nice view of the mountains, and the sun is shining through. Although it’s an indoor pool, the windows make it airy and pleasant. It’s a nice place to relax, rain or shine.

Rainy in Þingeyri

2011-08-02T21:47:00.002+02:00

Photos: (1) Þingeyri in the rain; (2) Dead jelly creature; (3) Campsite; (4-5) Café and view from the cafe window

It’s a rainy, cold, windy day. My cold has worsened, I feel feverish. I’m actually glad I’m not out hiking in this weather, feeling this way. I know I can push myself through physical aches, pains and ailments and maybe overexerting myself today would have been just the thing to push me over the edge and give me pneumonia or something. I’m wracking my brain the entire day to find a reason for the tent episode, an indication of something to go wrong, a significance in the forced change of plans. I’m not at all wistful or disappointed since I believe things happen for a reason and with my optimism, I am able to make the best out of any situation. Thus I decide to spend the rest of the week in Þingeyri. I need some time and space to proccess everything, to come up with a plan for the remaining two weeks of my trip (and my upcoming trip in September) without a tent that won’t strain my budget too much. The guesthouse here is pleasant, with a view of the mountains and ocean from any given window, and a comfortable kitchen to hang out in. The price is just a fraction of what I would pay in Ísafjörður; I have a private room and there are not many guests.

Without a tent … yes I don’t even consider the possibility of finding a tent somewhere, either to purchase or borrow. It just wasn’t meant to be this time and I’m not going to challenge fate and push my luck. I am happy to change my plans, eager to add some forced flexibility to my otherwise carefully planned life. That’s what adventure is about – throwing away the plans and improvising. Actually, now that the incident is over, it was quite an amazing experience!

So I spend the day resting and getting acquainted with the town, while looking for things to do in the next few days. I take a walk along the beach and poke at a dead jellylike creature that’s washed up to shore, have coffee and a waffle at the café, have a nap, and soak in the nice indoor pool for a long time.

In the evening I unpack the tent and spread it out on the floor for a few last funeral pictures. I could take it back Germany and try and get it repaired – it might be covered under warranty since I think the zipper rip is from faulty material. It’s roughly 4-5 years old, which doesn’t sound like much, but it’s been through hellish wind and rain on many trips to Iceland. But I feel somehow rejected by my unfaithful tent companion; I was so confident and felt safe and secure inside, despite its recent moans and groans, and then it just gave up the battle. I think it is best to leave it here; Iceland is a nice burial ground for old outdoor equipment.

The death of my tent & rescue mission

2011-08-01T23:10:00.000+02:00

Photos: (1) N1 Gas station in Þingeyri; (2) The start of the trail; (3) Kirkjubólsdalur; (4) Grjótskál; (5) Kvennskarð pass; (6) Last photo of my tent, Fossdalur, Arnarfjörður

Today is the start of part two of my adventure. I have always wanted to see the abandoned farm of Lokinhamrar ever since seeing the documentary film about the last farmer who lived there. There is a jeep track there that hugs the coastline and is known for its spectacular scenery. The nearest town, and the start of my adventure, is Þingeyri. With a population of about 400, it lies about 50 minutes south of Ísafjörður in Dýrafjörður fjord.

I leave some supplies at the Hotel Edda and catch the tourist bus (ISK 2000) to Þingeyri at 8am. I’m the only person who gets off at the N1 gas station in town, where I first enjoy a few cups of coffee before starting the trek. It’s really windy today, but partly sunny and a nice day for hiking. I shoulder my pack and head out of town on foot at about 11am. On the way I pass a guesthouse and make a mental note. I would like to stay in a room again when I return to shower and rest. The first 4 km follow the road north out of town. There’s a nice view but I don’t like hiking on pavement. At the airstrip, I turn inland onto a gravel road and soon reach a sign pointing the way. A footpath crosses through a farmer’s property at Kirkjuból, and the sheep coming running out to greet me. The footpath eventually crosses the jeep track, which is grassy at times, or very rocky, and I stay on the track through Kirkjubólsdalur valley. The jagged snow-peaked mountains are ominous. The wind is really strong and taking a break is difficult because it quickly gets too cold, but the weather is otherwise dry and fine. The hike is easy and pleasant, and eventually climbs up a steep pass to nearly 1000 m. The prominent mountain here is Kaldbakur at 998 m, but my goal today is not to climb to its peak. The track follows along various streams so there is plenty of water, and there is not a lack of skittish sheep to accompany me either. At the top of the pass, the view is spectacular. If I stand in the right spot, I can see the ocean on both sides. I head down the pass into Fossdalur with a view of Arnarfjörður fjord in the distance. This fjord is supposedly the most beautiful in all of Iceland and I’m really looking forward to the next few days of hiking along ist coast. As I exit the valley, I’m getting quite tired and hungry. It’s been over 20 km again but I’d like to make it to where the track intersects the coastal road. It’s 5pm when I finally reach the spot, and there are plenty of nice places to pitch a tent along the river with a great view of the ocean. If it only weren’t for the wind! I stand in various spots to see if there’s a place with some shelter, but no matter where I go, the wind whips from the mountains behind me and from the ocean at the same time. Oh well, I’ve survived wind before and I feel confident that it won’t be a problem.

I have no problems pitching the tent in the wind, since I’ve done it often before, but it’s not standing right today. Although it’s staked well, the wind is leaning into it hard and that ominous creaking is back. I throw my backpack inside and get some water at the river. I’m starving and my first priority is making dinner. As I sit inside, I notice that it’s actually quite warm out of the wind, and looking out over the ocean, I look forward to relaxing this evening in this beautiful spot. But it’s only a matter of seconds when I hear a sickening CRACK and I immediately know something is wrong. It takes me a minute to locate the problem – the short third pole above my head has cracked. But just as I spot the damage, the jagged edge of the pole tears a foot long hole into the roof of the fly. I quickly slip a splint over the jagged pole but the wind rips through the hole and tears and tugs at the tent violently, and suddenly the whole seam along the zipper opens up, leaving a tear along the whole length of the zipper, roughly 150 cm. I can understand the pole and first tear, but the seam ripping apart is surely a manufacturing problem! In any case, it’s immediately clear that the tent is totalled and this is an emergency.

I’m amazingly calm as I think and act. First I remove the damaged fly. The inner tent is fine with the pole now splinted and it offers some shelter from the wind, as long as it doesn’t rain. But rain is inevitable, and the sky indicates that it’s just a matter of time. I check my cell phone, but there’s no service, not even a tiny bit. I am exhausted from the 24k/6 hr hike, freezing from the drying sweat, and really hungry. There’s no way I could hike the entire way back over the pass, even if I rested and made dinner first. I have my Spot messenger with various options. I have set up a button if I need help but am not in immediate danger, but the people on this help list may not read the email messages until tomorrow. I set up this button to use, for example, if I am safe in the tent with enough food, but maybe am injured and cannot hike anymore. But although I’m currently fine, a sudden change in weather could turn this situation into a serious problem. I see no other option at the moment and realize I will have to push the SOS button. This would send my GPS coordinates straight to the Icelandic Search and Rescue team and help would surely come quickly. However I am hesitant at initiating a search and rescue action when I’m not in serious trouble.

As my conscious is struggling to accept this decision and push the button, a jeep approaches. Pfuuuuhhhhh. A breath of relief. I have no idea how often this track is used since I am aware that the quality is really bad and parts of it are only accessible during low tide. But one vehicle is all I need! I run up to the road and flag the jeep down. The Icelandic couple from Reykjavík is more than happy to help! It only takes a minute to pack my things since I hadn’t even unpacked my backpack, and the couple makes room for me in the back seat. We drive along the fjord and cut through the mountains via the regular road, all the way back to Þingeyri. The car is warm and I smile and relax and enjoy the scenery. It really is beautiful and I’m incredibly sad that I can’t continue my hike. Up the pass, it begins to rain and I count my lucky stars that I’ve been „rescued“. Back in town, the couple leaves me off at the guesthouse I spotted this morning. I make sure to note their address and will send them something from Germany in thanks.

Luckilly there is a single room available and it’s incredibly cheap at that. The owner is very kind and helpful, though I’m a bit beside myself at the moment. Although I really need to process what just happened, I push the day’s events out of my head to take care of myself and my priorities. I fix a hot dinner, take a hot shower and crawl into bed. I’m utterly exhausted. Sleep is restless, and I find myself thinking about what happened. But I am able to push it out of my mind again and again and return to sleep. I will allow myself to process it all once I’m rested. There will be plenty of time tomorrow and in the coming days.

Bicycling to Bolungarvík

2011-07-31T21:34:00.001+02:00

Photos: (1) Mountainbike Mánaljós; (2-5) On the old road to Bolungarvík; (6) Scenes in Bolungarvík

Yesterday was a lazy rest day. I woke up with a terrible migraine and spent the first half of the day pampering myself because of it. I also checked into a room for a few days – what a luxury!

I’m up at 6am and it’s a sunny day with not a cloud in the sky. I treat myself to breakfast in the hotel, stuffing and gorging myself with food, fruit and juice until I nearly explode. It was really nice sleeping in a room, but even that couldn’t prevent me from coming down with the cold that was signalling its presence already back at Hornstrandir. This is the second year in a row that a cold has dampened my summer hiking plans. But I won’t let it stop me – at most it might slow me down a bit.

I pick up the bicycle that I reserved yesterday at the information center. For ISK 2500 I can have it all day. It’s a mountain bike of average quality – nothing spectacular but just fine for me. There’s a bicycle path all the way to Hnifsdalúr and from there I will take the old road to Bolungarvík along the coastline, which is now closed to motor vehicles since a new tunnel has been built through the mountain. It’s a beautiful ride, although the wind is quite strong. Pedalling along the gravel road gives me time to think about its history. This road has always been subject to falling rocks and avalanches, and indeed there are many large boulders in my path. Once a falling boulder smashed into a bus containing young athletes and many of them died. Statistics say that 100 rocks large enough to kill fall on this route every year. In the winter, the road was always slick with ice and often blocked by avalanches. The new tunnel makes life much easier and safer for the local population. It’s a bit creepy thinking of all the accidents here as I pedal along, but the spectacular view of the ocean makes up for the eerie feeling :-)

In Bolungarvík I ride up and down the streets and have a look at the local church, the harbor and the campsite. It’s a bit early, since it’s Sunday, and nothing opens until 1pm so I have some lunch in the sun. It’s a beautiful 17°C with a chilly wind. After lunch, I head to the Museum of Natural History. I spend nearly 2 hours there, although it’s only one room. I enjoy reading about everything, learning and I chat with the caretaker and ask questions. There’s an interesting display on the building of the tunnel, as well as the usual stuffed birds and other critters. After the museum, I take a dip in the outdoor pool. It’s packed with Icelanders and I’m the only foreigner, but everyone is pleasant and friendly and I feel welcome. I love the tradition of free coffee at swimming pools, and since the weather is great, I alternate between hot pot, lounge chair and coffee break several times before finally heading back. Pool coffee is always weak and watery and tastes like the plastic cups that it’S served in, but just the quirkiness of it all makes it taste good anyway.

The ride back is fast since I have tailwind. Back at the hotel, I make dinner outside and chat with some fellow campers. Then I take the bike for one final spin before returning it to the hotel reception. I got quite some sunburn today!

By the way, this weekend is the annual European swamp soccer tournament here in Ísafjörður (http://www.myrarbolti.com/english). I just missed it a few years ago when I was here and it would be nice to see it this time. But alas, I have other plans and it’s a bit inconveniently located just outside of town for those without a car. But the town is brimming with participants and fans and it’s an exciting atmosphere here.

Back to Ísafjörður

2011-07-29T22:53:00.002+02:00

Photos: (1) Beach at Hesteyri; (2) Raft ferrying people to the boat at low tide; (3) "Knitted" tree in Ísafjörður; (4) Ísafjörður bay; (5) Campsite at Hotel Edda

Hesteyri, 9:45am. Today is one of those days where I ask myself why on earth am I doing this. The wind is strong and it’s freezing cold as I’m sitting in the tent waiting for the boat. I think I’m just getting soft as I get older. But I’m sure the world will seem rosier once I’ve had a shower and in no time at all, I’ll be drawn to the trail once again.

I chat with the warden a bit to pass the time, and ask about the weather since this subject always makes for interesting conversation in Iceland. I’m wondering if the boat can travel in this wind and the warden assures me that it’s not a problem. I’ve make a realization on this trip that makes me chuckle. I often ask Icelanders about the weather and they always begin by stating the expected wind speed and direction. The other day in the café, I asked a German lady working there about the weather and she said “oh not too good, it will rain”. That day it drizzled for about 30 minutes but was otherwíse a great day. No one ever mentions temperatures when talking about the weather. I realize now that knowing the wind speed and direction tells a knowledgable person everything they need to know about the weather. I think the warden explained that wind from the north means rain, for example. I’m going to pay more attention to this now. I’ve never been good at reading clouds, although I’ve tried learning how with books, but this method seems easy.

I pack up my tent and head for the dock. It’s low tide and the boat can’t come all the way in, so a rubber raft is ferrying the passengers and their lugage out to the boat. I strike up a conversation with a couple of fellow hikers who I will bump into frequently in the next few days. I’ve learned my lesson, and this time I sit inside the boat at the window. The ride back is beautiful. The waves are really high from the wind and they slosh over the roof of the boat, dousing my window rhythmically. Back in Ísafjörður, I again set up my tent at campsite Hotel Edda. At 800 ISK it’s currently one of the cheapest campsites in Iceland. Most are at least 1000 ISK now. I thoroughly enjoy the hot shower (ISK 300) and then wash my clothes, and later have a beer with the new acquaintances.

Stakkadalur --> Hesteyri

2011-07-28T22:13:00.003+02:00

Photos: Around Hesteyri and the old whaling station

The boat leaves tomorrow so today I’m hiking back to Hesteyri. I’m in no hurry and can sleep in. To be safe, I set the alarm for 8am but I’m awake already at 6:30. It’s a fine morning and I’m not tired at all despite the gruelling day yesterday. I had an odd dream in the night about Sigur Rós playing on a small sand spit in the ocean with the tide approaching.

It’s 16°C this morning, mild with no wind. There are all kinds of those little pesky midges here all over Hornstrandir – much worse than anywhere else I’ve experienced in Iceland, including Mývatn. The bugs sound like rain on the tent. The weather is dry but the sky again holds the potential for everything. There are some low rain clouds, some strips of blue. I’m taking my time this morning and have time to think about how I feel. I have no blisters on my feet this time, but my eyes have been puffy and burn quite bad. I hope I’m not coming down with a cold. I also have a strange sore between two fingers. But the initial body aches are gone and I can carry my backpack easily now for long distances.

I’ve been reading an interesting book about a man who is innerly compelled to travel often and has interesting encounters along the way. There are lots of parallels to how I feel, and my need to hike alone. I quote from the book, although I substitute “travelling” for “hiking” :

“When hiking alone my sense of vulnerability deepens, a sort of primal nervousness descends. But this is also one of the most compelling elements in hiking, the feeling of dread underneath everything, it makes sensations heightened and acute, the world is charged with a power that it doesn’t have in ordinary life.” (In a Strange Room by Damon Galgut)

This book is the perfect literature for this trip and gives me lots to reflect on. ..

Back on the trail today towards Hesteyri, I make good time. I am also able to stay on the trail, whereas yesterday I seem to have wandered off it for a while. The wind is chilly though, and it rains on and off. In fact, the weather is too unpleasant for a real lunch break.

Back in Hesteyri I set up camp at the campsite which is located right atop an old settlement and in the midst of a cemetery. How strange! I pitch my tent right on the top of the foundation of an old building, with its walls acting as a minimal shelter. The campsite facilities include a picnic table, an outhouse with no paper, and a hose leading from the river for water. I chuckle as I see a camper with a roll of toilet paper under his arm, heading for the loo. I’m so glad I don’t need such luxuries as toilet paper, my number one and number two rags work just fine, and I have no messy garbage to deal with on the trail. :-)

After some hot soup, I head out for a walk along the beach and then to the old whaling station. The weather is pretty miserable again, with very strong, stormy winds and off and on rain. For some reason I’m fascinated by the wild daisees that grow here in the Westfjords – they remind me of my childhood.

Back in the tent, I’m freezing and the wind is tearing relentlessly at my tent. It seems to be holding up fine, but lately I’ve been hearing a strange creaking noise that I just can’t place. I noticed this already in June and it seems to be getting worse, but I have no idea what it could be. I’m camped near the beach and the waves crashing to shore are quite loud. I’m daydreaming of a hot shower or hotpot and a roof over my head. The only food craving I have this time is for orange juice.

I venture out of tent for a quick look at the weather and the warden stops and asks if I’m leaving with the boat tomorrow. Yes. There’s been a change of plans and it’s now departing a few hours earlier, which is fine with me. I’m eager to move on to another adventure. The warden and I chat for quite some time. He says he works here all summer and sleeps in a tent like everyone else. He has a larger tent with a table and chairs for cooking and things, but otherwise he’s just as exposed to the elements as the campers are. All summer long. What a dream job!

Sæból --> Hesteyri --> Stakkadalur

2011-07-27T22:07:00.001+02:00

Photos: (1-2) Hesteyri; (3-5) Stakkadalsfjall pass; (6) Hut at Stakkadalur valley

I’m awake at 4am but doze for another hour before getting up. The sky is pretty thick with clouds but with alluring patches of blue in between. Dots of sun illuminate spots in the mountains and the village while black clouds meance over others. It’s one of those skies that contains all possibilities for the day.

I’m on the road by 8am. The sun seems to be winning the battle in the sky. I head back the same route towards Hesteyri. A route always looks different going the opposite direction and since everything was covered in clouds on the way here, I’m looking forward to the landscape under a clear sky. Crossing Fannadalur valley, I see a tent next to the lake. The route then climbs steeply out of the valley up the pass and it’s much easier going up than down. The view is indeed beautiful up there and time goes by quickly. Soon I’m at the river, so I change into wading gear and on the other bank I relax and have a snack. Soon the couple that was camped in the valley approaches and I snap their picture as they wade across. They’re from the Czech Republic and were indeed the people who waved to me the other day and the ones who were also up at the war ruins yesterday. After a nice chat, I let them get ahead of me but we meet again in Hesteyri a few hours later and have coffee together at the café. They’re on their way back with the boat today but I still have some time and am feeling great so I decide to hike some more. I’ll have time at the end of the trip to explore Hesteyri in more detail.

So I decide to take the path behind the village through Hesteyrardalur and see how far I get. The route is easily visible and marked with cairns. It’s gotten quite windy and as I rest on a rock up at the pass, a group of Swiss people stop for a chat. They seemed truly concerned that I am hiking alone with such a big backpack J After assuring them that I am fine, I continue on. The Swiss group turns back at the pass and I keep going towards Stakkadalur. Again there are great views of the valleys and ocean at the top of the pass but the terrain is a bit hard on the feet and the path is no longer real clear. That’s not a problem though with the cairns. There’s also quite a bit of snow up there, and plenty of rivers for getting drinking water.

Finally I descend into Stakkadalur. The last 3 km are quite tough on the feet since I’ve hiked over 20 km today. I see a little hut at Stakkadalsvatn lake and think that might be a nice place to set up camp, but as I approach, I see that the hut is occupied and there’s a huge dome tent resembling a spaceship in the yard. I stop to chat with the man, an Icelander, who says he has a group out hiking up Straumnesfjall today, and that they should be back soon. I tell him not to worry, I’m just going to look for a place to camp and will stay out of the way, and he indicates that they will be partying quite late so I shouldn’t stay too close to the hut. Not a problem for me, and as I follow the river behind the hut I spot the case of beer chilling in the water. I find a nice site out of view from the hut along the river to call home for the night. It’s 8pm when I finally make dinner. It’s been an incredibly long and tiring day but I enjoyed every minute of it!

Látrar cancelled, Sæból & WWII ruins

2011-07-26T22:41:00.007+02:00

Photos: (1) Camping at Sæból; (2) View of the rock face on the way to Látrar that I wasn’t able to navigate; (3) Day-tripper; (4) Sæból in Aðalvík bay; (5-6) War ruins

I sleep wonderfully in this peaceful landscape and in the morning all of my initial aches and pains are gone. It’s sunny at 6 am, mild with no wind as I make tea. But dummy me - after cooking, I move the hot stove too soon and it grazes the tent fly, melting a small 2 cm cut into the flap near the zipper. I should have been more careful! I repair it immediately since the weather is dry and I hope it holds. Fortunately this is merely a scratch for now, but later my tent will suffer a much worse fate :-) Good thing I plan on getting a new tent next year anyway.

The clouds are back as I pack up camp, but it doesn’t look like rain. Today I will try to make it to Látrar, another abandoned settlement straight north from here in Látravík bay. I’m not sure I’ll actually make it since the trail is uncertain. Supposedly one has to scramble over some big rocks right on the coastline, and it may only be accessible during low tide. And indeed, I don’t make it! I scramble across rocks for half an hour, and at two points I have to remove my backpack and hoist it up and down. Finally I reach a spot on the rocks above the ocean where there’s just no going further. Cut into the sheer cliff I see a trail with a rope and that’s probably the trail and immediately I see it’s impossible to manage that alone with 18 kg (40 lb) on my back. I later talk to the couple who waved at me yesterday and they made it through there only because they were together. The man was able to hoist up the pack of the lady so she could climb over. They also said it would be impossible for someone alone to make it with a heavy pack.

I turn back and am not at all disappointed with my decision. After all, there’s still plenty to see here in Sæból. But first I just sit at the coast for a long time looking out to sea ... Then I return to my beautiful spot by the river and set up camp again. With the tent back in its place in the field of wild flowers, I pack a day pack and head towards the village again. Supposedly there are some “war ruins” here to see. On the way I pass a building along the coast that must be what the lady meant as a campsite. It had an outhouse, but the building itself was locked and other than seawater there was no fresh water, river or faucet, nearby.

I reach the main cluster of houses and a man sees me approaching and comes outside to greet me. I ask about the ruins and how to get there, and he points to a trail leading straight from his property. The trail is actually wide and good and I later found out that the US had built a train to transport building supplies up the mountain to build the radar station. I wish I knew more about this site, but the only information I have is what the local guy told me. I guess it was built by the British in WWII and the US took it over during the Cold War. It was quickly abandoned due to the extremely harsh conditions prevailing. When they left, the Americans blew up everything but the local Icelanders carted off the trucks and machinery for the scrap metal and anything else they could use.

The trail soon climbs straight uphill, up one of these incredibly sheer mountain cliffs that are typical of the fjords. While taking a break, the man from the village passes with his dog and stops for conversation. He says that cell phones have service on top the mountain so he’s going up to make a few calls. I let him get ahead of me so I can take my time. The climb is physically exhausting but the view is rewarding. At the top, the trail crosses the flat-top mountain to the other side, offering a spectacular view of Ísafjarðardjúp fjord. The ruins, consisting mainly of an old radar station, are perched atop Grænahlið cliff and the slope falling down into the ocean is sheer rock. The whole trip is a good day tour and it’s incredible to imagine running all the way up here to make a few phone calls! I would be in excellent shape if I had a mountain in my backyard to run up every day.

By the time I’m back at the tent, it’s early evening and it begins to sprinkle. Tired and with not much else to do in the rain, I fall asleep early. I also want to get an early start tomorrow and move on to a different location.

Sléttuvatn --> Sæból

2011-07-25T23:20:00.002+02:00

Photos: (1) View of Sléttunes; (2) View of Fannadalur valley; (3) Old church and parsonage on Staðarvatn lake; (4,6) Abandoned houses in Sæból; (6) Nasi mountain (425 m); (7) Midnight sun over Aðalvík bay

7 am. Constant rain, sometimes drizzle, sometimes more. Thick clouds indicate no let-up. It’s gotten colder and there’s a bit of wind. Pretty miserable actually. I get out to secure the tent and there’s a strong wind coming from the lake. After a hot breakfast, I feel ready to tackle the day and by the time I pack up camp, the wind and rain are gone.

Just a few minutes into the trail, there’s a river (Sléttuá) to fjord that requires me to change into wading shoes. This would have been a nicer place to camp. But it’s chilly so after drying off I hurry on my way. I continue to head northwest up the trail to Sléttuheiði pass. The sky clears progressively and there’s a nice view of Ísafjarðardjúp fjord and the emergency shelter on the coast at Sléttunes. At the top of the pass, I find a sheltered spot to have some lunch. On the other side, looking down into Fannadalur valley is beautiful. There’s an old church and cemetery nestled next to lake Staðarvatn, so that’s the next good place to make a stop for a snack and some photos. Descending from the pass is incredibly steep and I move carefully to avoid becoming a rolling boulder with my 18 kg pack. The valley is wet and marshy but the trail navigates it well. I examine the church and parsonage up close. The parsonage seems to be used as a sort of hiking hut. Through the window a well-equipped kitchen is visible. And the church is well-maintained too.

After a long break, I head towards the abandoned village of Sæból on the coast of Aðalvík bay. I heard there are designated camping sites on Hornstrandir so that’s what I’m looking for here. As I near the village, I see all kinds of people. Looks like a large hiking group is staying here somewhere. But then I notice that the houses are not so abandoned. In fact, many of them are bubbling with life. People working in gardens or sitting on the porch, kids playing, dogs running. I’m a bit surprised to see so much activity since this area is advertised as an abandoned inlet with desolate houses. Everything is nicely kept and it certainly doesn’t look desolate. I later talk to one of the locals and he tells me that the families still own this land, of course, and like to come out in the summer and vacation there. The fact that more and more tourists are coming each year is actually a benefit to the locals as well. More and more boats are being operated, allowing them access to their property.

Anyway, I find a lady working in her yard and ask if there is a campsite somewhere. She points vaguely in the opposite direction outside the village, so I turn around and head back. There are 3 buildings in the vague direction she points, each quite far apart. After inspecting them all, I determine that none of them resembles a campsite. I look for a river, and follow it back into the valley a bit out of sight of the villagers and set up camp. It’s a beautiful grassy spot covered with purple flowers with the majestic mountain Nasi in the back, and a wonderful view of the ocean. It’s on a small flat area below a hill so it keeps me isolated from view and sheltered from wind.

The weather is at its best as I set up camp. The sun is out and it’s warm and pleasant. I give my body and clothes a good washing. As I make dinner, two hikers walk by and wave. I enjoy the evening basking in the sun, and even well into the night I often get out of the tent to snap a picture or gaze at the midnight sun.

Hesteyri, Hornstrandir

2011-07-24T23:03:00.007+02:00

Photos: (1-2) Boat landing and old village of Hesteyri; (3) Me in the rain (4) Sléttuvatn lake; (5) Camping at Sléttuvatn

It’s a restless night in the tent. The sky is so bright all night long, kids are playing outside in the wee hours and the sound of traffic makes sleeping difficult. For breakfast I head to the Gamla Bakari for an excellent vinarbrauð pastry and mediocre coffee. Afterwards I pack my gear, store some things (free of charge) at the campsite/hotel reception and trek to the boat landing for the boat trip to Hesteyri. Hesteyri is an old fishing village in the nature reserve Hornstrandir that was finally abandoned in 1952 due to its remoteness. Although no one lives in all of Hornstrandir anymore, the handful of scattered houses in the inlets are still used and maintained by the locals as summer cottages from mid-June to mid-August when the region is serviced by scheduled boats. This is my first time to this uninhabited, remote region of Iceland and the goal of my first expedition here is get acquainted with the area, the infrastructure, the weather and terrain, and then I will come back one day for more extensive exploring.

The boat today is packed and I make the mistake of deciding to sit outside. Out on the ocean with the arctic wind whipping, it’s freezing! To top it off, it begins to rain. The rain continues all day in fact. After landing in Hesteyri, I really have to warm up so I have coffee and pönnukökur (Icelandic pancake resembling a sweet crepe) with a new friend in the cafe at the Old Doctor’s House, which also offers sleeping bag accommodation. The cafe is warm, steamy and packed full of people, and after sufficiently getting back my strength and ambition, I venture out into the rain again. I plan on hiking a bit to find a quieter place to camp since the campsite here already has a few tents.

I head south of Hesteyri, following the coastline. The rain is relentless and the clouds are thick, so there’s not much to see. There’s a clear trail marked with cairns heading east, uphill a bit and finally into Sléttudalur valley. After 5 km I’ve already had enough and set up camp at Sléttuvatn lake. It’s not the best spot to camp since the ground is very soft and mossy, but it’s late already and the weather is not letting up. The tent is up quickly and I fetch water from the lake to make dinner. The warm meal and hot chocolate round off a nice day and by the time I clean up the dishes, the rain has stopped. It’s a mild 15°C/59°F inside the tent.

I stretch out to sleep and realize that I’m quite sore already after just 5 km. Shoulders and hips, and my legs tingle throughout the night, keeping me awake. Although I’m in good shape, it’s always different carrying a load. But I’m not the type to hike up and down the streets of Berlin with cat litter in my backpack to practice, so I don’t mind the aches and pains which usually go away in a day or two anyway.

Summer Adventure 2011: Arrival Ísafjörður

2011-07-23T22:12:00.007+02:00

Photos: (1) Map of key places on this trip; (2-3) The Arctic Express from Reykjavík to Ísafjörður; (4) Ísafjörður indoor swimming pool; (5) Flags at half mast; (6) Boats in the bay at sunset

I arrived in Iceland two days ago, spent the first night at the Salvation Army hostel in the capital city and took the bus the next day to my basecamp at Eystri-Sólheimar to pick up supplies. After spending a pleasant evening with friends old and new, and sharing a good meal and some tasty wine, I headed back to Reykjavík the next day and hopped on the plane to the largest city in the Westfjords – Ísafjörður (meaning “Ice Fjord“). This is my third time in Ísafjörður and the place really fascinates me. Located on a spit of sand in Skutulsfjörður fjord, nestled between majestic mountains, its just 25 miles from the arctic circle. Despite its size, small population, and historical isolation from the rest of the country, the town has a rather urban atmosphere and has recently has become known as a center for alternative music, with a yearly music festival - Aldrei fór ég suður. For me it’s the perfect home base for exploring the Westfjords in more detail.

The plane ride is pleasant as usual. I like the tiny airports, the tiny planes and I lovingly refer to this flight as the Arctic Express. I have a window seat, and as we lift off, I can see Reykjavík covered in a thick cloud of ash from the recent eruption of the volcano, Grimsvötn. The weather is sunny and dry but very windy, which not only stirs up volcanic ash, but also causes turbulence in such tiny planes. We hit such a strong patch of turbulence that I started thanking my lucky stars for being allowed to die in Iceland. And I can’t think of a better way to go, with my remains scattered in the air over the best place in the world :-) But I guess my number’s not up yet and when we finally land, the weather is absolutely beautiful and the wind has mysteriously disappeared.

After setting up camp at the Hotel Edda, I race into town to buy some gas for my stove. Gas is often out of stock, and since my hiking adventure begins tomorrow, it’s vital that I find some today. The N1 gas station has exactly one canister left, which I quickly snap up. I wonder if there were any other hikers on the plane with me who will also need to find gas tonight? It’s 14°C (57°F)and sunny as I walk through town and it’s humming with people, locals and tourists alike. I last visited this place a few years ago in the darkness of winter when it was hibernating under a thick layer of snow. Today, flags are at half-mast to show sympathy with the Norwegians in the wake of a national tragedy.

Garður --> Berlin

2011-06-19T21:37:00.003+02:00

Photos: (1) View of Keflavík from the plane; (2) The crater of Eyjafjallajökull volcano; (3) Grey ash on the glacier

I’m awake at 4am and my back is killing me from the hump between the seats that tortured my back all night. It’s beautiful weather in Garðaskagi, not a cloud in the sky. I have time for a short walk to the lighthouse. A French couple is awake and packing their tent. The man asks me if I have jumper cables for the car, since his car won’t start. Sorry I can’t help, but I ofer him my phone to call the rental company. If they come right away from Keflavík, they should still make their flight. I drive slowly to the airport since I have plenty of time. It's sad having to leave. It’s easy to find the spot to drop off the rental car and the guy drives me to the gate. The desk for Iceland Express is open and there are only 3-4 people in line. At security the guy wants to check my backpack. I ask him what he’s looking for and he says a bottle of water. No, I certainly don’t have any water - I fly a lot and know the rules! Later I realize he must have seen on the x-ray the plastic bottle filled with volcanic ash :-) But he couldn’t find it, and I had forgotten about it.

I check the display, and my flight is delayed an hour. Later I learn it was waiting for a connecting flight from the US. This is getting to be old news with Iceland Express. Delays seem to be more of the rule than the exception now and this one turns into nearly two hours. At least it’s better being stuck in Keflavík than in Berlin so I use the time to shop.

The flight finally leaves at 10:45. I had reserved a seat online and it’s indeed a throne! Last row window seat with no one next to me. I’m treated to a clear blue sky, tiny cotton clouds and an amazing view. I realize that I can identify every village, road, river and lake from above and feel a bit proud of knowing my favorite country so well. It’s interesting to see both recently erupted volcanoes from above. The glaciers are all grey with ash. This is certainly a highlight to end my trip. I’m not even bothered that there’s no skyrdrykkur on the plane.

I feel incredibly relaxed and clear after such a short time in Iceland. No other place on earth has this effect on me. I’m ready to face the world again, and I’ll be back to Iceland in just a few weeks.
Bless á meðan!

Þingvallavatn, Reykjanes

2011-06-18T22:02:00.011+02:00

Photos: (1)Þingvellir; (2) Öxarárfoss; (3) Farm on road 360: (4) Mosfellskirkja; (5) Reykjanestá; (5)Gunnuhver geothermal area

Þjórsárdalur, 7am, strong gusts of wind, dry weather but mostly cloudy, 12°C (54°F). After packing up, I have a closer look at the church across from the campsite. Then I’m on the road again. The first stop is Selfoss (pop. 6574), where I really want some coffee. The café I was at yesterday is closed so I have some along with a sandwich at the gas station. I sit on one of the stools at the back of the store with a couple of locals, flipping through newspapers, and enjoy the morning.

It’s my last day in Iceland, and the weather is turning out good, so I spontaneously decide to drive up road 36 along Lake Þingvallavatn, the largest natural lake in Iceland, towards Þingvellir. Þingvellir is a site of historical importance to the Icelanders, being the spot where their Parliament was held. It’s now a national park. Again I was only here once before 10 years ago in horrible weather and in my memory it wasn’t very spectacular. But the landscape in the sun is much more attractive that I remembered. A mixture between lush vegetation and dusty highland mountains off in the distance. At the north end of the lake I meander down the small road 361. It follows right along the lake and it’s really a pretty drive. I get out for a short walk in one pretty spot since the weather is absolutely beautiful – 15°C (60°F), sunny and no wind. The lake is a fishing lake as lots of signs indicate. It’s full of bugs and green slime and summer houses dot the banks as far as the eye can see.

Finally I reach Þingvellir, but I have no intentions of leaving the car yet. I see the diving team getting ready to take a group down into the Silfrá rift. This rift marks the place where the American and Eurasian continents meet, called the Mid-Atlantic Ridge. These tectonic plates are moving apart at about 2.5 cm (1 inch) per year and this is a popular site for divers, especially since the water is particularly clear. Þingvellir itself is packed with people and busses so instead of getting out, I drive to the north end and walk to the waterfall Öxarárfoss, which is not so overrun.

Back in the car, I head down the other side of Lake Þingvallavatn on road 360. It’s a very pretty mountainous drive along the lake, and in one spot there’s a lamb napping right in the middle of the road, basking in the sun and not willing to budge. I think it might be injured, but it’s mom is near so I drive on with a slightly heavy heart. The back road (Nesjavallaleið 435) through the Hengill mountains is still closed due to wintry conditions, so I have to turn around and go back the way I came. This gives me the chance to check on the lamb, which is now standing at the roadside, grazing away.

After being in the countryside for a week, the way to Reykjavík seems like a racetrack. I stop for a quick look at the church Mosfellskirkja since it has unusual architecture. Then I race right on through Reykjavík and back out the other side, heading to my peaceful little campsite at Garðaskagi. I have a quick look at the campsite, but then go straight to the swimming pool since it’s about to close. I don’t need much time to get clean though and enjoy a few peaceful minutes in the hotpot. It’s still fairly early and the weather is beautiful, so I decide to make the most of the day. There are a few things in this area on my list that I didn’t manage to do at the start of my trip.

I head towards Hafnir down road 44 and stop for a quick photo of the church Kirkjuvogskirkja. Next stop is the bridge over two continents, which has an unusually large concrete parking lot that seems foreign to the moonlike landscape. indeed the concrete has attracted several campers who can comfortably park there. The Mid-Atlantic Ridge runs through Reykjanes here in Iceland, where it is also called the Reykjanes Ridge, and causes frequent earthquakes. I make a much longer stop at Reykjanesviti, which is Iceland’s oldest lighthouse. The cape here, Reykjanestá, is beautiful with its basalt cliffs, birdlife and view of the ocean. After a lengthy stay here, lying in the grass atop the cliff, I continue on to the source of the steam spewing from the earth. Gunnuhver, a geothermal area with fumaroles and mudpots, differs from other geothermal areas since the water here is 100% seawater.

In general, this southwestern-most tip of the Reykjanes peninsula has a lot to offer and actually surprised me. Many people who land at Keflavík see the desolate moonscape and want nothing but to get as far away from it as possible, and head immediately to Reykjavík and further inland. One could easily spend an entire week exploring Reykjanes, and the beautiful campsite at Garðaskagi offers a good base camp for sightseeing. There are plenty of opportunities for good swimming at the local swimming pools too, if you want to avoid the Blue Lagoon (which I generally try to do) ;-).

Back in Garður, it’s time to fill up the car and give it a quick wash, pack my suitcase, and then settle in for a terribly uncomfortable night in the back seat of the car at the campsite.

Þjóðhátíðardagurinn

2011-06-17T22:26:00.008+02:00

Photos: (1) Moss likes to grow under the hot pipes in Hveragerði; (2) Hveragerði bakery; (3) The church Hjallakirkja; (4) Raufarhólshellir cave; (5-6) Eyrarbakki; (7) Þjórsárdalur campsite

Today is an Icelandic public holiday called Þjóðhátíðardagurinn celebrating the day in 1944 that the Republic of Iceland was formed. There will be celebrations in the villages and many people use this weekend to camp, and the young people like to party. For example, there is a music festival today featuring one of my favorite Icelandic bands, Dikta, held at a countryside campsite and lake not far from where I’m currently roaming about. But I just saw them play in Berlin a few weeks ago and I’m not really into loud crowds on this trip.

Since it’s a holiday, Katja and I use this as a good excuse to sleep in. There’s a bit of rain on and off in the morning at 13°C (55°F). After a quick shower, we have a look at the new geothermal area that opened in the 2008 earthquake and then head to the bakery for breakfast. After many cups of coffee and a sampling of various treats, I want to show Katja the hiking area before I continue on alone for the rest of my trip. She stays to do some hiking and take a dip in the hot river and I get in the car and continue on my way.

I take road 38 towards Þorlákshöfn and stop to photograph a cute little church called Hjallakirkja. Then I head north on 39 up the mountain pass of Þrengsli. I stop at the cave called Raufarhólshellir, which is over a kilometer long and can be explored with the proper equipment and ideally with a guide. I just have a quick look around and with all the holes in the ground leading into the cave, I'm a bit hesitant to walk on its grassy roof in fear of breaking through. I continue slowly in the car, looking for a good spot to hike. I really feel like hiking today, so when I see a small mountain and a gravel road that’s my indication to stop. I actually had my ambitions on climbing Geitafell today, but the road leading to it is too poor for my little Yaris, so I end up on top Litla Sandfell instead. There’s a bit of drizzle and strong wind but the view is rewarding and even though it’s only a short hike, it’s invigorating.

Back in the car, I head towards Þorlákshöfn. I’ve been to these little southern coastal towns only once a long time ago in the pouring rain and in my memories they are all quite dismal and dreary. So I decide to give them a chance to improve their reputations by revisiting them 10 years later. I spend an unusually long amount of time in Þorlákshöfn, examining the church and campsite, the pool, the seaside road and the lighthouse. It's quite an ugly, lost little town but it was nice visiting again.

Next stop is Eyrarbakki, a fishing town with a population of 577. For centuries this town was the main port and trading center in the south, but lost its significance over the years due to poor harbor conditions. The town is not as bad as my memory recalled, and its charming old historical buildings are actually quite pretty. The primary school, established in 1852, is the oldest in the country. There’s a raised walkway made of dirt and grass along the coast to walk along the seaside and a cute little café. I can’t really find the campsite despite following the sign, though it might be a cute town to camp in and take a long walk in the evening.

But it’s not time to call it a day yet. On to Stokkseyri, which is certainly one of the dreariest places in all of Iceland. After a short walk, I decide to get out fast and travel on to Selfoss. There, the Bónus grocery store is open despite the holiday as well as a few other stores and cafés. After buying a package of my favorite chocolate cake topped with caramel and black licorice to take back home with me, I have a quick cup of coffee at the café before looking for a campsite for the night.

Þrasturskógur, which is usually a sleepy little campsite, is full to the brim with huge campers and Icelandic families ready to celebrate the holiday weekend. As I turn around the car and drive out, at least 5 more campers arrive. I guess it might be tough finding a quiet campsite tonight! But I have one idea that just might work and indeed, my guess is correct: Þjórsárdalur campsite, just southeast of Selfoss down road 305, is secluded and quiet, and only 2 other campers are on the other side of the lot. I pick a spot close to the lake, Villingaholtsvatn. The wind is really strong but it’s sunny and I make dinner at the picnic table and enjoy the evening. The warden comes at 10 pm and after determining that I have “a really small tent”, he kindly turns the hot water on in the showers for me since neither of us has change for the automat. After a hot shower, I’m happy and content and lie in my sleeping bag with the flap open, looking out at the lake.

Gljúfrabúi

2011-06-16T23:01:00.014+02:00

Photos:Seljalandsfoss, Gljúfrabúi

We’re on the road by 8:30 am and take a long break at Seljalandsfoss. The weather is nice so we take our time having breakfast at the picnic tables. After putting on waterproof clothes, we walk around the back of Seljalandsfoss for a great view of the falls from a different perspective. Then it’s time to do something I promised I would come back and do one day:

Wade through the water to the hidden waterfall named Gljúfrabúi near the campsite. The name means “he who lives in the ravine”. I like this waterfall even more than Seljalandsfoss itself, maybe because it’s off the beaten track and most people who stop at Seljalandsfoss have no idea that it exists. I first learned about it from Kristín, Sigrún’s sister, who grew up in the area and played there as a kid. With her a few years ago she first showed me how to climb the mountain and take a peek at it from the top. Then we had a look at it from the bottom and she waded in to have a look. Due to a foot injury, I couldn’t follow and vowed to come back! (see blog entry from July 31, 2008).

Today the weather is perfect and I’m in the mood. I take off my boots and socks and change into Croqs and wade into the icy cold water that is up past my knees in spots. Behind the falls, the view is spectacular and luckily I have a waterproof camera since the whole thing is quite a wet event. When my feet and legs are finally numb from the cold, I wade back, dry off and warm up – with a wide grin on my face. I feel like a little kid, playing in the water and it’s fun! As I’m drying off, a group of Icelandic youngsters stop and their chaperone lifts each one carefully on his shoulders to take a peek at the waterfall without getting wet. They must be from Reykjavík since only city kids would hesitate at the opportunity to play in the water.

We spend the rest of the day in Reykjavík shopping and tasting my favorite local delicacies. In the evening we’re at the campsite in Hveragerði, but the pool is unfortunately closed and we have to be content with munching hotdogs.

Eyjafjallajökull up close

2011-06-15T23:34:00.002+02:00

It’s 6 am and storming outside. The wind is really strong, but not a problem for my sturdy tent. I had to put music on my headphones in the night though to block out the wind. Katja on the other hand is having problems with flapping tent parts. The wind comes in strong gusts, but there’s only a bit of rain luckily. Again it was roughly 8°C (46°F) in the night. We pack up and go for a morning swim at the outdoor pool in Vík. But the water is pretty cold, certainly not hot enough for a hotpot, and I shiver most of the time. Good thing there is a sauna so I can finally warm up. Katja is brave enough to jump in the pool and swim laps. After the dip, we have breakfast at Hotel Lundi, pick up some groceries for Sigrún and head back to her place briefly before we start today’s adventure: A super jeep tour on Myrdalsjökull to the site of the volcano that erupted last spring at Fimmvörðurháls as part of the Eyjafjallajökull eruption.

We arrive at the base of Myrdalsjökull just before noon, where they commonly offer snowmobile tours on the glacier. But this time we’re going up in a super jeep with our guide, Ásbjörn, and three Icelandic girls. I have the passenger seat up front and it’s fun to look at all the electronic gear – GPS, and lots of switches connected to the air tank to deflate and inflate the tires as needed. Once up on the glacier, we’re soon in a white-out (snow and strong wind) and can only drive via GPS. It reminds me of playing a video game, trying to keep the car on the track on the screen. In the midst of all the white, we get out for a few photos. The wind is incredible but it’s not as cold as I expected. Back in the jeep, we pass various landscapes and soon the guide says we’re right above Katla volcano. Katla is the 4th largest volcano in Iceland entirely covered by the icecap of Myrdalsjökull glacier. Katla usually erupts every 80 years, and with the last eruption being in 1918, the next one is overdue.

A short time later, we reach the site of last year’s volcano eruption of Eyjafjallajökull, where the fissure first opened at Eyjafjallajökull. A 300-meter long fissure opened during this eruption, and two new craters were formed, lovingly named Magni and Móði, after the sons of Thor, the Norse god of thunder. To see this site up close is amazing and beyond description, so of course we get out for a short hike. The whole area is still steaming and stinks like sulfur. The earth is covered with brightly colored rocks, disfigured by the heat and sulfur. In one hole you can still see the hot lava glowing and it’s here that Ásbjörn pulls out a grill grate and a package of hotdogs, complete with ketchup and mustard. I can’t believe we’re actually barbecuing hotdogs over a steaming lava hole! They’re done in just seconds too, it’s so hot. The ground is hot all over and it feels nice to sit in a warm spot. Just a short distance away, the hut Fimmvörðurháls is visible and a few hikers are in the area as well. Back in the car, we head back to base camp, mostly through a white-out with close to no visiblity. It’s great we had such nice weather at the volcano. After 4 hours and 70 km and lots of memorable impressions, I’m really tired. In particular it was interesting to see how much ash is up there, all the snow is grey and it looks like that won’t change for a long time to come.

We head back to Sigrún’s for coffee and then to Vík for some shopping and a quick stop at the beach. It’s 6°C (43°F) and the wind speed is quite high at 23 ms (83 kmh, 51 mph), perfect for watching high waves on the beach as long as we don’t get too close. On the way back to Sigrúns, we also make a quick stop at Reynisdrangar, but there’s no time to stay for long since a tasty salmon dinner is waiting for us. It’s been a full day and I’m glad to sleep in a warm bed again.

Skógar, Seljavallalaug

2011-06-14T23:15:00.001+02:00

Photos: (1) The waterfall Sógafoss; (2) View from along the trail at Skógafoss; (3-5) The old swimming pool Seljavallalaug, once in a green lush valley, now blackened by the ash of two volcanic eruptions

Morning coffee with Sigrún. Light rain, not much wind. It’s nice to be inside and just look out the window at the ocean. My friend Katja arrives at 10:30 and we make a big breakfast before heading out for the day. Katja wants to hike along Skógafoss, and I love doing anything in this area so that’s fine with me. After the pleasant hike, we stop for coffee in the museum café and then head off for a swim to Seljavallalaug. It’s raining quite hard, so the perfect thing to do is swim. The old pool at Seljavallalaug is only reachable on foot after a 15-minute walk. It’s nestled deep in a valley that was heavily covered with ash from the last two volcanoes. A friend reported that the ash was removed from the pool just a few days ago. The whole valley is black with ash and the changing house this year is quite damaged and run down. It used to be kept in good shape, but the damage from two volcanoes in just a short period of time is taking its toll. The route up the mountain to the pool is also blocked, and now leads entirely along the river. A few people come and go at the pool but it’s far from crowded. A couple of Icelandic girls are particularly chatty and pleasant. The water is warm and relaxing and the only problem is getting out again and drying off. Brrrrr.

In the evening we camp at the campsite in Vík. This is a bit unusual for me since I usually stay in this area at Sigrún’s so I’m curious to see what the campsite is like. Unfortunately I have to complain about the facilities. Despite a girl working in the office most of the day, for some reason all the toilet stalls except one is locked and there is no toilet paper. The weather is dry as we make dinner but the rain starts coming at 9:30 and I crawl into my sleeping bag.

Háifoss

2011-06-13T23:18:00.001+02:00

Photos: (1-2) Grannifoss; (3) view of the valley towards Stöng; (4) sheep skull; (5) The waterfalls Háifoss and Grannifoss; (6) road 26 looking at Búrfell mountain

I’m just waking up at 5:45 when it starts to rain, so I use that as an excuse to close my eyes again. It stops at 6:30 and I get up. The temperature was about 8°C (46°F) in the night, it’s a few degrees warmer now. The weather stays dry while we have breakfast and pack our things. Súsanna makes me a good strong cup of coffee. We’re on the road by 8:30, on our way to hike to the waterfall Háifoss. We’re driving in separate cars, and my little Toyota Yaris has a rough time on rough track to Hólaskogur. Súsanna in her Jimny behind me is probably laughing. When we arrive at the hut, there’s a trailer parked outside offering ATV tours. As we get out of the cars, the wind is really strong and it’s cold and cloudy. We put on rain gear, hats and pack small daypacks with extra gear, lunch and hot tea. We hike up the road, which we certainly could have driven with Súsanna’s jeep, but that wouldn’t be half the fun. The road is dusty and bleak and later follows the power lines (Línuvegur). It begins to rain quite hard but luckily stops before we reach the waterfalls. Súsanna and I are both smiling, entirely in our element, hiking in miserable weather in Iceland. It’s a perfect day!

There’s a car parked at the falls and later another arrives. But that doesn’t bother us one bit. What a beautiful spot! We set our gear near the first falls, called Grannifoss, and walk around a bit. Then we find a spot next to some big rocks out of the wind for a lunch break. After lunch, we continue to the end of the trail a bit, where both Háifoss and Grannifoss make a good picture. There is supposedly a route going down through the valley that comes out at Stöng. One day I’d like to try that route, but not today. We hike back cutting through marshy, boggy fields and the terrain is difficult on my little toe that I broke just two weeks ago. Later, back on the trail, I find the skull of a sheep alongside the road and have a quick photo session with it. The round-trip hike is about 14 km.

After such a nice hike, Súsanna and I decide to swim at Árnes before parting ways. The outdoor pool is cute, small and has a nice fairly large hotpot. It drizzles on and off, but that’s no bother to us in the water. After the swim (and secretively doing my laundry there), we’re ready for a snack and have coffee and pastries (vinarbrauð, snúður) at the gas station shop. Then Súsanna heads back home to Reykjavík and I continue on my journey. The plan is to check out road 26 as far as it is paved, finding a place to camp somewhere along the way.

The weather turns increasingly unpleasant. The occasional drizzle is now steady rain. The sky indicates that there’s no letup in sight. I drive all the way down road 26 until it turns to gravel. I check out a few campsites along the way, including Stóra Klofa which is very cute with good facilities. It would be a nice place to spend the evening if the weather were good, but it’s wet and cold and I’m just not ready to get out of the car yet. I stop at Leirubakki and just out of curiosity, ask about a room, and despite the hotpot, I don’t feel comfortable or welcome there at all. I have a brief look at the Hekla Center and have some coffee before settling back in the car for a few phone calls to help me decide what to do.

Instead of spending a rainy, cold evening in the tent with a book, I decide to drive to Eystri-Sólheimar, where a good friend, good conversation, a warm bed and a glass of wine is waiting for me.

Hveragerði, Kerið, Þjórsárdalur

2011-06-12T22:49:00.003+02:00

Photos: (1) Hveragerði; (2) Kerið; (3) Highland feeling with Háifoss; (4) Campsite Sandártunga with Hekla; (5) Hekla, snowy and ashen; (6) Camping at Sandártunga

I’m awake at 5:45 and the sun is shining. It’s too good to be true! Iceland has been having a horrible summer so far – cold and rainy and this just might be the first sunny day of the season, just for me! By 7:30am it’s 17°C (63°F). There’s no wind either, so I relax in front of the tent and have breakfast. It’s time to move on and see something new today.

After breakfast I get in my silver racecar and decide not to stop until I’m past Reykjavik. It’s a always a bit chaotic driving through the suburbs but the roads are well-marked and it’s Sunday and there’s not much traffic at all. Good thing, because my cell phone rings and it’s my friend Súsanna. Tomorrow is a holiday here and many Icelanders don’t have to work. Súsanna drove out into the countryside for the weekend and tonight we plan to meet at a campsite and hike together to Háifoss tomorrow.

My first real stop is Hveragerði. There’s a lot I haven’t seen in this little town yet. Since it’s so close to Reykjavík it’s one of those places that is easy to overlook. Just last winter I had a look here for the first time and saw that there is plenty to do and discover. And their swimming pool is wonderful. But no time for swimming just yet. Although I don’t have a clue of what I came here to see, I end up parking near the geothermal park. I peek through the fence and see hot springs bubbling and fumaroles steaming and decide to have a look. Hveragerði is the only town in Iceland where steaming holes from the earth can be found right downtown. The geothermal activity also makes the town prone to earthquakes, and during one just a few years ago, a whole new geothermal area opened up in town. The town is know for its greenhouses, which are heated by the volcanic hot springs. In such greenhouses, Iceland can grow a number of fruits and vegetables, and no longer has to import such produce. Tomatoes, cucumbers and bell peppers are among the local products available, as well as carrots and potatoes. Today I also learn that Iceland might one day soon have bananas, and I admire the banana trees in the small greenhouse at the entrance as I have a quick cup of coffee. The lady tells me the town had banana trees several years ago already and they were just ready to produce bananas (which only happens after the tree is a few years old), but the trees were infected with bugs. In an attempt to rid the trees for the bugs, the trees themselves were killed and the town of Hveragerði had to start all over. These new trees could produce bananas as early as net year already, so it might be nice to visit again and have a look. As I leave, the kind lady running the place here allows me to take her picture as she sits in the sun doing her knitting.

Time to leave Hveragerði. Although there is lots more to do and see, it is indeed so close to Reykjavík that I will be back soon. My next stop today is Kerið – a volcanic crater lake. Although I’ve passed this spot many times, I’ve never stopped here. Today it’s 20°C (68°F) with a clear blue sky, and the parking lot is absolutely full. This caldera is roughly 3,000 years old, it has steep walls and a bright aquamarine lake in the bottom, colored this way due to minerals in the soil. I walk all along the rim, and then down to the lake at the bottom. I heard that Björk played a concert here once. It’s incredibly beautiful here and despite all the people, I’m glad I stopped.

I spend the next few hours in the car, first looking for a short hiking trail near Laugavatn that doesn’t seem to exist and second, looking for the waterfall Brúarfoss. After finding myself on back roads in a cottage recreation area, I ask a few Icelanders out for a walk and even they can’t really tell me where I should go. I give up since I really don’t like the area much anyway, and drive on to the area where I’m to meet Súsanna later.

I stop to make some lunch at Skaftholtsréttir, which is the place for this region where the sheep that have grazed wild all summer are rounded up every autumn. The weather has gotten quite windy and it’s a bit difficult to keep my food on the picnic table.

The drive down road 32 is absolutely beautiful, this is one of my favorite roads in Iceland through the region of Þjórsárdalur valley. It’s green and lush with the river Þjórsá meandering through it. High mountains rise in the near distance, with Búrfell mountain and the volcano Hekla dominating the landscape. Búrfell is a popular name for mountains in Iceland, since the word describes its form. Búrfell is always a flat-topped mountain with a small peak. Hekla has a lot of snow yet on top, but it’s gray from the recent volcano eruptions.

The road climbs in altitude, the vegetation becomes sparse and I’m in the highlands. Although there is a lot to do here (and I’ve done most of it several times before), I only stop this time at Hjálparfoss, a picturesque waterfall. Up here, the weather is harsh – cold and windy as compared to the mild and warm temperatures in the valley. After an extensive photo session, where none of the photos really turn out, I head back down the valley to the campsite Sandártunga.

The campsite is quiet, although it’s a holiday weekend. The individual sites are isolated by trees, so each camper has a bit of privacy. Only a handful of Icelanders are here and seemingly no foreigners. The sun is shining, and it’s warm as I set up my tent. Súsanna soon arrives and sets up hers as well. We start the evening with a walk along one of the several marked trails. The weather is so beautiful that we even lie in the grass a bit in the evening sun. After dinner we take another walk. It’s just too beautiful to go to bed and the evening sun is shining right on our tents. We sit for a long time at the picnic table chatting until it gets chilly and is time for bed.

Garður, Reykjanes

2011-06-11T22:32:00.001+02:00

Photos: (1-2) Camspite and lighthouse at Garðaskagi; (3) Sandgerði lighthouse; (4) Hvalsneskirkja; (5) Stavnesviti

It’s 6°C/43°F on arrival in the wee hours of the morning and there’s not a cloud in the sky. I grab some food for breakfast at the airport’s 24-hr grocery store and pick up some things at the Duty Free. Getting the rental car is no problem and I only have to decide what kind of extras and insurance I want. I decide against the new trend of “sand and volcanic ash” insurance, which some companies have started offering after the recent volcanic eruptions. My little Toyota Yaris is silver and I like it immediately. After tossing everything in the back seat, I drive the to Garður (population of 1450) which is only about 10 km away. I arrive at the free campsite at Garðaskagi point, surrounded by the ocean, a fabulous sky with no clouds and midnight sun. The campsite provides electricity for caravans, flush toilets and hot water. After a short walk, I crawl into the back seat with my sleeping bag for a short nap.

But I’m too excited to sleep and finally give up at 8am. There are about 4 campers here and the first day trippers start to arrive. Since the next two days are bank holidays, my first task is to drive into the village for food and gas for cooking. The supermarket is well-stocked and I find everything I need, and the gas station has one cannister of Primus gas for the stove. Now off to the swimming pool for a dip!

The outdoor pool is nice, with two hotpots and a sauna. I meet a friendly African lady who speaks perfect Icelandic. We talk for a long time and she tells me her story of meeting her Icelandic husband and emmigrating to Iceland, and in the end, we exchange email addresses as well.

Now that I’m squeaky clean, it’s time to explore a bit. I drive to Sandgerði and have a look at their campsite. Although the facilities are nice with showers, it’s just a green spot of grass in town and not nearly as charming as the remote lighthouse site at Garður. I continue the drive down Road 45, past a large area reserved for the nesting of eiderdown ducks, to the old church at Hvalsnes. Further down the road, I again leave the car at Stafnesviti lighthouse for a hike to Básendar. Once an important commercial center for trading dried fish, this marketplace was swept away by a huge tidal wave in 1799. Only a few rocks are left as ruins.

It’s chilly but the sun comes out between the clouds for a few minutes and I can’t resist the temptation to lie in the grass, sheltered by large boulders from the wind, and take a short nap. There’s nothing I love more than napping in the outdoors! But it gets cold quickly and rain is coming and as I hike back to the car the sky opens in a downpour.

I head back to the camspite at Garðaskagi, this time setting up my tent. It’s about 12°C (54°F), nice enough for an outdoor dinner at the picnick table. After finishing some hot soup, it begins to rain and I crawl into the tent to sit out the downpour. Indeed it only lasts a short time, so I go out for another short walk before crawling into my sleeping bag early at 8pm. A perfect day!

Berlin Schönefeld --> Keflavík

2011-06-10T23:07:00.000+02:00

Photos: (1) 2-hour delay at Berlin-Schönefeld; (2) Flying into the midnight sun

My original flight was scheduled to leave Berlin at 9pm but just a few weeks after booking I received an itinerary change. The new scheduled departure is 11:55pm. So after a long day at work and a quick nap at home, I lug my bag down the 5 flights of stairs of my new apartment and take a taxi to the airport. I arrive with plenty of time to spare and when the check-in counter finally opens, the lady greets me with the bad news. The flight has a 2-hour delay. New scheduled departure, 2am – the airport’s last flight of the night. We’re not allowed in the security area due to “insufficient number of staff members on duty” so I find an uncomfortable bench, listen to some music and try to relax. It’s been a long day already and I’m really tired.

The plane departs at 2am as expected and we learn that it was waiting in Iceland for connecting flights from the US. I will take this opportunity to complain briefly about Iceland Express. Since they started flying to the US, 2-hour delays are commonplace and they always seem to be waiting for some connecting flight or another. I was previously happy with this airline but this change has been unpleasant for the travelers affected.

I have a window seat, which I reserved in advance not to look out and enjoy the sights, but to rest my head and sleep. It works, and this is the first flight of my life that I sleep through solid until we land.

Velkomin heim!

New Year's Eve 2010-11

2010-12-31T23:50:00.000+01:00

Kleivarvatn, Krýsuvík

2010-12-28T20:31:00.004+01:00

Going home

2010-09-10T22:26:00.000+02:00

I get on the bus at Hlemmur and can’t get through turnstile with my wide backpack, so I stay up front and chat to the bus driver in Icelandic. Now the city bus drivers in Reykjavík have a reputation for being quite rude (as opposed to the very friendly country bus drivers) and I’ve come across some real mean specimens over the years. But this nice man really impresses me with his kindness. Maybe he likes my attempt at speaking his language. After all, my new trick is to just babble on endlessly, telling all kinds of stories – that way they’re not tempted to switch into English, no matter how horrible my grammar is. Anyway, as my bus stop approaches at BSÍ, and I’m ready to hop off board, the driver says “biddu, biddu (wait, wait)” - so I wait. And he leaves his scheduled route and drives me straight to the door of the bus terminal and waves a friendly goodbye. I’m rooted to the spot when my mouth open in amazement for several minutes before I go inside. How absolutely unbelievable – and what a nice, memorable experience during my last hours in this country.

Sigrún is at the BSÍ and we fly home together to Berlin. She’s looking forward to her life in the city after another summer in the guesthouse, and I fly with a heavy heart, since I would much rather stay in Iceland. But my next trip is booked already.
Bless á meðan...

Reykjavík - last day

2010-09-09T22:21:00.002+02:00

Last day in Reykjavík, feeding the birds at Tjörnin...

Reykjavík

2010-09-08T22:17:00.003+02:00

Photos: (1)Café Tíu Dropar; (2) Kolaportið flea market; (3) Hallgrímskirkja viewed from Café Loki;(4) Apartment with a view; (5) Sigur Rós fan parking

September 3-10: The ups and downs of city life. Beautiful apartment at Hlemmur, great pizza at Devitos, a pint with Ómar, shopping with Björg, Háskólabío „Future of Hope“, hotdogs, hotpots, kjótsúpa at Cafe Loki, sushi, Sólon with Súsanna, humarsúpa, crepes at Tíu Dropar, long walks, Svavar Knútur at Hvíta Perlan, meeting new friends, Kolaportið, feeding the birds at Tjörnin, but still no Northern Lights ...

Last day in Sólheimar

2010-09-02T20:44:00.004+02:00

It's my last day here and I take a lot of photos outside, including this 66°N series, as a parody of the ads for the Icelandic clothing brand, 66°N. The ads generally feature their models with serious faces in remote places where the weather is evil...

I'm off to Reykjavik tomorrow for a week of adjusting to city life, before finally returning home to Berlin.

Eystri-Sólheimar

2010-09-01T20:27:00.000+02:00

Photos: (1-2)Beach in Vik; (3)Flower/Moss; (4)Me at ES looking at Pétursey; (5) ES at sunset

Friends, family and guests come and go. The days are relaxed and long, despite the usual guesthouse chores. I have a few bigger tasks too - putting all the bottles and cans into bags and taking them to Vík for recycling, or washing the car. After chores, I swim, walk, take a drive in the car or just hang around...

Dyrhólaey

2010-08-30T20:23:00.002+02:00

Views from Dyrhólaey, note the blackened glacier in the background of some of the photos

2010-08-27T19:58:00.001+02:00

Photos: (1-3) Volcanic ash; (4) Safety mask to prevent inhaling ash, a part of every household

Eystri-Sólheimar

2010-08-26T23:38:00.003+02:00

Photos: (1) Eystri-Sólheimar; (2) Behind the house, black glacier in the background; (3) Rocks are mined here behind the house for use on the beach in Vík to prevent erosion (that's Dyrhólaey in the background); (4-5) Pétursey

Sitting outside on the deck enjoying the last days of summer with a cup of tea. A chilly breeze with a patchy blue sky. I want the days to go slow now and I enjoy helping out here in the guesthouse. Looking out at the ocean, a large boat is always passing by in one direction or another. The mountain Pétursey dominates the view. Oh, I hear a lamb He shouldn’t be here. The fields are empty of sheep. The grass here is contaminated from the volcanic ash that fell just a few weeks ago, blackening the sky. The few stray sheep that are left bleat and wander restlessly, knowing something isn’t right. After all, Eystri-Sólheimar is situated just a bit south-east of the volcano that stopped the world (Eyjafjallajökull) and the effects were strongly felt here too.

I just had a closer look at the ash lying around here. There are two types: One is heavy like mud and feels like coffee grounds when you run your fingers through it, and the other is fine and light and magnetic if you hold a magnet up to it. Most people passing through don’t even see the remnants of the volcano, since they don’t realize what it was like here before. For example the driveway used to be made of bumpy gravel, but ash has filled the space between the rocks, packing it smooth and firm with wind and weather. At first glance, the ash also looks just like black sand, which is not uncommon in Iceland. But on a clear day the glacier behind the house will revel its black scars. Once a beautiful bright white mountain, it’s now black, covered with ash. And the cars that were parked here are still full of ash inside, even in the glove box. The paint job on the outside of the cars is ruined since the ash sticks to it like coarse sandpaper, and water only makes it stick harder like glue.

Sigrún’s brother Óli sees me looking at the ash and tells me to jump in his truck. We drive up behind the house several kilometers up the steep rocky track, closer to the glacier. The family’s property is vast, extending all the way back to the glacier. However global warming and receding glaciers are causing the government to reconsider some of the property boundaries of these old farms. The old property deeds mark the edge of the property simply with “the edge of the glacier”, but as the ice melts, the property is growing and the government doesn’t like that. They’re trying to pass a law to give the government any such affected land at an elevation of over 500m for property deeds that contain such unclear boundaries. There are many outraged farmers in the countryside that are affected.

Anyway, way up in the mountains behind the house, we have a clear view of the glacier and it’s really black! The ash is several inches deep here too and it feels like walking in snow. The grass is also much greener up here, with the ash acting as a good fertilizer. The city of Vík is also mining rocks up here to use to protect the coast of its famous black beach from erosion. It’s a way for the family to make a bit of extra cash.

Later at 11pm Sigrún and I take a short walk outside looking for Northern Lights. No luck with that, but we do see the volcano spewing a bit of steam. It’s a crisp clear night, but the moon is full and heavy and the stars shine bright.

Jökulsárlón, Eystri-Sólheimar

2010-08-25T21:32:00.000+02:00

Photos: Jökulsárlón, the glacial lagoon

In the morning, I pack up my tent and camping gear for the last time this summer and head to the gas station to wait for the bus. There’s a nice handicraft store there with unique handmade goods made by the locals, most knitted from wool or made of rock or lava of some type. Some of the ideas are quite creative and it’s one of the better handicraft stores I’ve been to. It’s a pleasant morning, chilly and clear. The bus arrives early and I’m the first to get on and store my gear below. I take up my usual seat right behind the driver. I’m loaded down with fresh groceries for my friend Sigrún’s guesthouse, which is where I’m headed next.

After just a short time the bus stops at the beautiful glacial lagoon, Jökulsárlón – where scenes from a James Bond were once filmed. I’ve been here countless times in all weather, but today is just perfect – clear blue sky, a bit of wind to shift around the icebergs, and amazing reflections of the ice in the blue water. The bus stops for over an hour, which is plenty of time to have a good look, take some pictures and relax a bit. Back on the bus, it stops just a few minutes later at the national park Skatafell. The bus fills to the brim with international travelers and I admit it feels stressful to be among so many loud people after being alone so much. I put on my headphones and reflect on the first half of my journey. I’m just incredibly grateful to be here, traveling in a place that I love so much and I look forward to the next part of my trip, with less travel and adventure and more time for relaxing.

Now I’m in Eystri-Sólheimar, the country guesthouse run by my dear friend and Icelandic teacher, Sigrún. She’s making lamb for dinner, and I could kiss her for that. I haven’t had such a good meal in a very long time. And there’s wine and good conversation. I’m so grateful that I can stay here and I love how she takes care o me like a mother.

2010-08-24T23:19:00.000+02:00

Photos: (1) Höfn harbor; (2-3) Colorful moss; (4) Patterns on the beach; (5) Huldusteinn rock museum

It’s 8°C in the tent at 5am and a bit warmer by the time I finally crawl out to start my day. It’s partly cloudy with harmless white clouds – looks like nice weather so I’ll stay another day. I head out to the Ósland nature reserve area, past the picturesque little harbor for a long walk. The wind is chilly but I find a nice bench in the sun out of the wind and doze for an hour. Afterwards I walk leisurely along the shore, examining rocks and moss. Some rocks have strange imprints and lines on them, possibly from seaweed?

I head back into town with the intention of visiting the glacier museum, but it’s closed already. Instead I head to a private rock collection displayed at the old swimming pool, called Huldasteinn. The rock displays inside are in glass cases, cut and polished and properly labeled. Outside there are hundreds of colorful rocks displayed around the old pool areas and hot tubs. It’s quite a spectacular sight and I could spend a lot of time examining the variety of specimens. Why on earth do I love rocks so much? The museum is very inspiring since most of the pieces were found in Iceland. I would love to learn how to cut and polish rocks like that. The owner of the museum is a pleasant lady who babbles to me endlessly in Icelandic although I don’t quite get everything she’s saying. But she proudly shows me a few rocks from the Eyjafjallajökull eruption along with a jar of ash and I just grin. (I’ll have all the lava and ash I can stand in the days to come.) I write a few nice words in her guest book. All in all, seeing this rock collection (ISK 700) was a highlight of the trip and I highly recommend it to everyone who is crazy about rocks.

Afterwards I have a quick look at the store selling local food products like fish, lamb, etc, and then sit in a café for coffee and cake – but it’s such a huge piece that I feel like I’m going to explode. I head to the pool and soak in the hot pots with an outside air temperature of 10°C. There are many more people out swimming today, and more campers at the campsite as well.

At midnight in the tent I read by the light of my headlamp. It’s 4°C but I’m not cold at all. It’s probably the last night in my tent this season and I’m enjoying every minute of it.

2010-08-23T22:36:00.000+02:00

Photos: (1) Campsite at Höfn; (2-5) Scenes of and around Höfn

It’s extremely dark and dreary this morning in Neskaupstaður, pouring rain, thick dark fog. A jogger runs by my window dressed in GoreTex at 6am, and half an hour later the same guy comes by again walking briskly with Nordic walking sticks. I’m decked out in full rain gear at 7am as I wait for the bus, which arrives 15 minutes early but waits until regular departure time. For some reason I just can’t keep my eyes open as we’re driving, they’re so heavy and I give in and doze the entire way to Egilsstaðir. There’s not much to see anyway but clouds and rain.

It’s pouring had in Egilsstaðir and I have four hours to kill until the bus to Höfn arrives. I end up waiting mostly at the info center where it’s at least warm and dry. The driver is a young guy from Djúpivogur and we chat a bit during the trip. As usual I have a seat directly behind the bus driver, which offers me the best view, both out the front of the windshield and the side windows. Two people are let off somewhere along the road to hike and soon we arrive in Höfn, just as the rain lets up.

In Höfn I check room prices but really need to save a bit of money, so I decide to camp. It’s one of the most expensive campsites I’ve encountered at ISK 1000, and it costs to take a shower as well, though just a token fee of 50 ISK for 2 minutes. I set up camp and head straight to the outdoor swimming pool. It’s a nice modern pool with slides and a steambath, but no sauna. At ISK 450 it’s one of the more expensive pools I’ve encountered as well, but certainly ok for the modern facilities it has to offer.

Afterwards I race back to the tent to get a bite to eat before it gets dark. It’s getting dark so early now and as I write this at 9:45 pm I need my headlamp to illuminate the pages. It’s 11° and the weather is dry to far; I hope it holds since I would like to stay a day and have a closer look at the town. The mountains here are quite beautiful and unusual looking, and the glaciers in the distance make an interesting skyline.

Neskaupstaður

2010-08-22T21:46:00.000+02:00

Photos: (1) The beach; (2-3) Moss, flowers & cottongrass; (3) A great view

There’s a strong wind at night and the flags flapping on the flagpole outside my window often wake me. But the wind seems to have blown the clouds away and today is a beautiful morning, and at 7am the sun is shining through my window in my face. I’m outside by 9 and take a long walk to the park at the end of the road just outside of town. There are marked trails, picturesque cliffs and rocky beaches, colorful flowers and moss, and lots of birds. I spend a lot of time outside there, napping in the sun a few times and just lying around enjoying the view.

After a bit of lunch and a short rest back at the room, I go to the museum, Safnahúsið. There are three museums in one and appropriately three old guys sitting around waiting for visitors to come, and they are thrilled when I arrive and spend a long time looking at everything. There is a lot of love put into the museum, and it’s well worth the price (ISK 550). The first floor contains paintings by a local artist, and the second floor has a maritime exhibition. I spend most of the time on the third floor in the museum of natural history looking at rocks and reading about the flora and fauna. Sometimes I think it’s strange how I can like rocks so much – maybe I should have pursued something in that field as a career.

Afterwards I walk way out the other side of town towards the industrial harbor in the shining sun. Back at the room, there are workmen replacing the front door. They speak no English, so I manage to speak enough Icelandic to ask if I need a new door key, and I do. After a quick bite to eat, I head back to the pool again.

It was a wonderful day. I’m so thankful to have seen a bit of sun today, I was beginning to forget what it looks like. But in the evening, the clouds roll in thicker than ever, bringing rain again. I’m ready to move on…

Neskaupstaður

2010-08-21T21:38:00.004+02:00

Photos: (1) Picturesque gas station; (2) A great place to be buried; (3) The avalanche wall

The bus ride to Neskaupstaður (ISK 600) is beautiful, it’s not raining although the clouds indicate it’s only a matter of time. But there are some clear patches in the sky that give me a nice view of the mountains along the way. There’s even some fresh snow in the mountains. Fall is in the air already.
The road leads through a tunnel in the mountain that was built in the 1950s. Before that, Neskaupstaður was only accessible from the ocean. The bus stops right across from the accommodation I booked. I read about this place in Lonely Planet and the sleeping bag accommodation is just so cheap (ISK 2800) that I can’t resist the opportunity to stay indoors again. The place is called Tónspiel and it’s a fairly large and well-stocked record store. The owner is in the shop and gives me the keys to the guesthouse upstairs. There’s no one else there and I have the place to myself. There’s a nice kitchen, washing machine and TV. I can see the ocean from my little room. It’s a clean, bright, cheery little guesthouse.

I start out by taking a long walk through town, to the cemetery. What a cute little place to be buried. Then I go past the campsite and uphill to the avalanche wall. The town has a double-wall avalanche protection system. It’s invisible from town and the road since it blends well into the landscape, but there’s a walking path behind it and from the back it’s an amazing construction. The sun comes out for a bit and I grasp the opportunity to take a nap in the grass next to the wall overlooking the town and the fjord. It gets chilly soon though and I move on, walking back through town up higher on the hill.

I stop in the café Nesbúð for some cake and coffee, and get some groceries at the store. Back in the room I do some laundry and write in my journal. I really like this town so far. It’s modern and large enough to have everything you need, yet small enough as a quaint fishing village with a stunning view. The people here are pleasant and open. Considering how clean and modern the town is, it’s hard to believe it’s the last town on the road, and was only accessible by sea until the tunnel through the mountain was built. I later find out from the lady at the tourist information center in Egilsstaðir that the fishermen have to put 10% of their earnings into city projects, which is why the town can afford a kayak club, a modern swimming pool and the avalanche wall.

In the evening, I cook up some fish for dinner and go to the pool (ISK 340) which boasts the longest slide in Iceland, named Dóri Rauði. – Dóri the Red. It’s a beautiful outdoor pool with a great view.

Eskifjörður

2010-08-20T22:20:00.003+02:00

Photos: The bleak village of Eskifjörður with one mighty mountain that the village is quite proud of

I’m up at 5:30am, have a quick breakfast and hike to the info center to catch the 7:20 bus back to Egilsstaðir. It’s raining again, which doesn’t surprise me one bit. A few other people gather here as well, they must have arrived on the ferry yesterday. The drive back to Egilsstaðir is absolutely stunning – it’s not quite as cloudy as the trip here and now I can see lots of rivers and waterfalls. In general, the Eastfjords seem to be much greener and have more rivers than the Westfjords.

We arrive in Egilsstaðir just a short time later. It’s still raining. I chat with the guy at the info center and tell him that I found his waterfall, and he offers me a cup of coffee. But soon the next bus comes and I’m on my way to the next fjord village on my list – Eskifjörður. I’m alone on the bus except for a local lady who gets out at Reyðarfjörður. The ride is beautiful and I wish the weather was a bit clearer. I can only imagine what it would look like here in the sun.

The bus driver lets me off at a tiny dumpy little Shell station in the drizzle in Eskifjörður. What on earth am I doing here? This place looks so dreary in the rain. I start out by having some coffee at the gas station before hiking to the guesthouse. I’m real tired and worn out today, and certainly not camping in this permanent rain. The guesthouse doubles as a café and restaurant. Puh, what a dump! This would be a great cheap sleeping bag accommodation, but it’s not. The place advertises a flat screen tv and washbasin in every room. The TV is about the size of a sheet of paper, but flat, and the only thing that works is Pay TV. The washbasin is wedged between the wall and wardrobe and there is no warm water. There’s a bug and hair in the sink, and the garbage can is disgusting. Maybe the never-ending rain is just finally getting to me. In any case, I decide not to leave any more money here than I have to, meaning that I’m not at all tempted to try out the café or restaurant. The whole place is not very cozy or inviting anyway.

I take a long walk through town to get acquainted, staying along the shore at first. The grocery store is being renovated and it’s unrecognizable as such from the outside. I have to ask before I find it. There’s a tiny harbor, several rivers cascading down the hills, and an old church that lures me up the hill. Surprisingly the town is quite charming from this height. The houses up here have a splendid view of the mountain and fjord. One house is so quaint that I spend a lot of time looking at it and taking pictures – a beautiful house that I would feel comfortable living in. If it just weren’t here in Eskimofjörður! The perpetual rain soon drives me back to the guesthouse for a nap.

Afterwards I venture out again for coffee and decide to visit the maritime museum (ISK 550). The museum is a pleasant surprise, and a pamphlet explains all the exhibitions in English, which the technical museum in Seyðisfjörður (ISK 600) failed to do. Downstairs are a lot of fishing things and stories of whaling, but upstairs contains various stations of the different professions in the old days. I’m especially fascinated by the doctors who worked in these remote villages under such primitive conditions. I spend a lot of time in the museum and even watch the video. I notice that the old couple running the place doesn’t speak any English, so when I leave I say a few words of thanks in Icelandic. Such people are usually quite thankful for a few words in their native tongue and patient when I try to speak it. We end up talking for quite a while and I bask in their compliments on my language skills. That gives me a needed boost of confidence since I’m quite shy about speaking the language, although I can understand quite a bit. However, these are the only nice people in the whole town. Everyone else is cool and aloof. I don’t feel real welcome or comfortable here.

Back at the room for some asprin and a bite to eat. I feel feverish today, just can’t shake this darn cold. But I decide to go swimming since there’s not much else to do. And I’m so glad I do! The outdoor pool is beautiful. It’s 9°C and cloudy with a bit of drizzle. There’s a splendid view of the mountains while sitting in the hottubs. There are a total of five swimming areas, a nice slide for kids, and a nice sauna. Everything is modern and new and there are lockers in the changing room (many pools in Iceland do not have lockers and you have to leave your valuables at home or turn them in to the pool attendant and pick them up afterwards). Priced at only ISK 340, this place gets the pool prize so far. There are only a few people here and I soak in the hot water for over an hour, and feel much better afterwards.

On the way home, there’s a kids’ soccer match and the whole village seems to be outside watching it. This sleepy little town is not so sleepy after all. I saw lots of people outside today, lots of action. And the town isn’t as dreary as my first impression imagined it to be. This is often the case in Iceland, that a place reveals its charm only after a while, after spending some time in its midst and getting to know it.

Seyðisfjörður

2010-08-19T22:35:00.004+02:00

I’m up at 6am and just have some tea, no breakfast. I pack a light daypack and am out the door by 7am. I’m going to look for a waterfall that the kind man who works at the tourist information center in Egilsstaðir told me about. He’s from this area and gave me the insider tip. It’s off the beaten track so most people pass through the town without ever seeing it. I walk out the north end of town, past the youth hotel’s reception. There’s a bit of rain on and off, but the sun comes out in patches as well, making for interesting light and sky. I come across an old house that’s been taken over by the local domestic animals. It looks like a real-life version of Orwell’s “Animal Farm”. The house is extremely run down but geese and chickens are everywhere, and even a few sheep lounging around the perimeter like they’re guarding the place. The whole scene is quite comical actually, and photogenic. My instinct leads me to walk behind the house where it looks like a valley cuts between the two mountains, and sure enough I soon come across sticks marking a trail that leads to a road back to the waterfall. The falls are beautiful, the sky is interesting and the rain doesn’t bother me at all. It just feels good to be out here hiking again, all alone.

After taking lots of pictures and having a small lunch, I walk real slowly back into town. The ferry has arrived. There’s a long line of cars waiting to get on and as I pass, a car pulls up and a guy rolls down the window and says: Hey are you mánaljós? It’s Andi – a guy I’ve only known virtually so far from the Iceland forum (and the one who once gave me the great tip of wearing ladies’ silk stockings underneath my hiking socks to prevent blisters). But Iceland is small and this stuff seems to happen all the time. We chat for quite awhile and I’m impressed with the reports of his Grænalón tour (watch his video of the Grænalón trail here: http://vimeo.com/14828010).

Back at the hostel, the place is empty now that everyone has left with the ferry. I research my next destination on the internet and book rooms for the next three days. Lots of rain is still in the forecast, and my cold is putting a damper on things, so I don’t feel like camping. Later I head outside again to the technical museum (ISK 600), and although it’s interesting, it’s only in Icelandic and a bit too much for me to understand. For dinner I treat myself to the catch of the day at cafe Skatafell (ISK 2600).

Seyðisfjörður

2010-08-18T22:39:00.005+02:00

Yesterday I arrived in Egilsstaðir at noon and stayed there for the day. My friend Krista picked me up and took me out to her parents’ farm just north of town for the afternoon. I rained like crazy all day and at night I stayed in a little guesthouse (with a bathtub!) before catching the 8am bus to Seyðisfjörður.

Here in Seyðisfjörður I have a single room at the youth hostel (5200 ISK) with a great view of a tremendously steep mountain right outside my window. The ride here (800 ISK) was foggy and rainy and thus there was no scenery to look at. All day there’s a perpetual drizzle that occasionally turns into heavier rain. But I’m dressed in rain gear and take a long walk out the south side of town, past the info center and harbor, and then up to a waterfall. Why am I in Seyðisfjörður? Well, everyone who takes the ferry passes through here so it’s just one of those places I wanted to see. Besides there are a lot of homes for sale real cheap in this town and I wanted to have a closer look at the town itself and some of those houses. If I bought a house here, I might be able to do something with it in tourism during the summer months. One of them is up near the waterfall overlooking the harbor, but it’s dumpy and in a poor neighborhood and looks nothing like the ad on the internet. In general I learn that the town is pretty much a ghost town except for on the night before the ferry arrives, and all in all, I don’t find it very attractive or charming here. But maybe it’s just the bad weather that hangs an ugly cloud over it.

In any case, there’s a cozy café called Skaftafell where I have a bagel for lunch, and the youth hostel is comfortable and pleasant as well. After a short nap, I go to the indoor pool, which is crowed to the point of being uncomfortable. There are two hot tubs inside, crammed into a tiny space in the basement, along with a sauna, which is ok. I leave after just a short time and head back to the hostel, where I just hang out the rest of the evening.

Dreki --> Mývatn

2010-08-15T22:23:00.000+02:00

Photos: (1-4) A few last pics of Dreki (1-2) The gorge “Drekagil”; (5) Lake Mývatn

I had the room to myself again, the people who had booked never showed up. I’m grateful for that since I was up most of the night coughing and sniffling. I find it hard to sleep in these huts anyway, the walls are so thin and every little noise is amplified. I much prefer the tent. I stay in my room for a long time in the morning, until everyone has had breakfast and left. I’m in no hurry, I’m just going to catch the bus back to Mývatn this afternoon.

It’s cloudy today with some rain and wind, and cold. I stay in the hut to kill time and strike up a conversation with an Icelandic guy, Marinó. He makes me a cup of coffee (my first in over 2 weeks) and tells me lots of interesting stories, in particular about how he and his friends just got rescued from a river a bit south of here – I don’t recall the details. When his friends arrive back after an outing to Viti, he’s off but about the same time a lone French guy arrives, Julien. He approaches the hut, soggy and smelly as a dog, with a large backpack on his back looking a bit dazed and confused. I know those symptoms – it means he’s been out hiking in the highlands. We end up chatting for a few hours until my bus arrives, and it was interesting to hear of his hike so far from Skógar through Sprengisandur, with a planned destination of Mývatn. Many of our hiking experiences are similar and we share stories about things like how we often talk to ourselves or sing when hiking alone, how we sometimes see illusions or people far off in the landscape that aren’t real, how we say a word of thanks at a beautiful spot after a rest – and of course, we talk about food.

But soon my bus arrives and it’s time to go, so we exchange information and vow to stay in touch (I later heard that he made it to Mývatn just fine and spent his last few days in Iceland just eating and sleeping, both in incredibly large amounts).

The bus arrives and Axel the bus driver recognizes me from before. The ride is uneventful – all of the passengers are tired from their day-long Askja excursion and most are dozing in their seats, me included. Back in Mývatn the weather is mild, partly cloudy and after a hot dog at the gas station I set up my tent right next to the lake. The evening sunset is beautiful and I watch two children playing at the shore right in front of my tent. I pick up the supplies I left at the campsite and turn in a bag of clothes to be washed in the machine – I’ve been dreaming of clean clothes for some time now and can’t wait to get them back, fresh from the laundry.

The next morning (Aug. 16) it rains until just after breakfast at 10am. I pick up a few supplies in town, including some things for my cold at the pharmacy, and write a few post cards. I then spend a few hours at the pool. I’m alone there at first and have the two hot pots to myself, but later a few more people come. Back at the campsite, I pick up my clean clothes, mmmmmm! and lounge around on my air mattress outside in the sun. It’s 20° but all of a sudden the temperature drops to 13°, the wind picks up and it starts to rain so I crawl into the tent for the night.

I’m getting restless and it’s time to move on tomorrow. My next plan is to have a look at a few of the villages in the Eastfjords.

Dreki --> Öskjuvatn, 12 km

2010-08-14T22:49:00.000+02:00

Photos: (1) View of Herðubreið; (2) Mána the mountain woman (3-4) Various views; (5) Öskjuvatn, the deepest lake in Iceland at 217m;

It’s cloudy and foggy this morning, but the temps are mild. It was great to have a room to myself, although it borders on the kitchen and the walls are thin, so it was quite loud until close to midnight. And it’s official ... I have a cold. My nose was stuffed all night and I have a sore throat. I’ve felt it coming for quite some time now and it’s finally here. Good thing I’m not hiking the entire Öskjuvegur as originally planned. Also have a strong pain in my neck and shoulder again – something must be up with my backpack, but at least it’s not causing any headaches this time.
I’m not quite sure yet what I’ll do today. The park rangers offer another free guided tour of 1 ½ hours that meets at the parking lot of the crater Viti. The ranger offered to take me in her jeep since it’s 8km one way to get there.

I take my time in the morning, having breakfast in the hut and then paying for another night, and booking the bus ride back to civilization for tomorrow. The warden kindly gives me a few tea bags for my sore throat. And soon the weather clears and it turns into a sunny day so I decide to hike to the deepest lake in Iceland, Öskjuvatn. It’s situated in the crater of the volcano Askja, and was formed by the eruption in 1875. The trail begins quite steep right behind the hut. The trail will climb over 500 meters in elevation today, reaching 1300 meters at the highest point. So although the weather is mild when I begin, it can certainly turn nasty at that elevation. My daypack is stuffed to the brim with warm gear, rain clothes, plenty of water and a bit of lunch.

The trail is well marked, although quite steep in spots, and mostly sandy. I hike pretty fast on the way there and make it to the lake in just two hours. The views along the way are spectacular and I will take more time to enjoy them on the way back. Since I’m never sure what the weather will do, I want to make good time while it’s nice. In fact the sun is out and it’s warm even at the high elevations, and only at the lake do the clouds roll in and the wind pick up, forcing me to dress warmer. I have lunch on a large flat rock overlooking the lake and send a Spot message. The sides of the lake are steep cliffs all around and it doesn’t look possible to get near the water. However not far away is the crater Viti (meaning “Hell”), which is filled with warm geothermal water that some people like to bathe in, if they don’t mind climbing down 200m from the rim to reach the water. I spend a lot of time overlooking the lake, examining rocks (there are some beautiful specimens here, including obsidian) and deciding what to do. The weather has turned and it looks like it might rain, and I’m also not feeling too well, so in the end I decide to skip Viti and instead take the return route real slow and enjoy it. Besides it’s always nice to leave something unseen – it gives me a reason to come back.

On the way back I spend even more time examining rocks, taking pictures, and just enjoying the scenery. From up here, Mt. Herðubreið is clearly visible, and it’s great that I was able to see her from all different angles during my hikes over the last few days. Snowy Mt. Snæfell has been part of my view as well for the last few days and I can feel her magnetic attraction. I’ll have to get closer one day soon. ... At a particularly nice spot with a view of Snæfell I take a longer break and make a few phone calls. Sometimes it’s hard to believe that technology is so advanced that I can sit on a mountaintop in the middle of nowhere and make a phone call with a normal cell phone.

I’m back at the cluster of huts by 3pm and the weather is still nice, so after having some hot soup I explore the gorge behind the hut called Drekagil (Dreki means dragon, so this is the “dragon’s gorge”). It’s a beautiful little gorge with a trail leading all the way to the end where there’s a beautiful waterfall. The trail is narrow and rocky and I wish I had my hiking poles, but I left them back at the hut. On the way back, I sit at the mouth of the gorge for a long time on a rock in the sun.

Back at the hut, there’s a jeep from the Discovery Channel in the parking lot, and as the evening progresses, more jeeps arrive. I take a walk around the camping area and am fascinated by the complex contraptions some people have with them for sleeping. I especially like the roof top tents. What luxury! Everyone is outside making dinner and all of the grills are going full force. In the hut I sit near a group of Polish people enjoying their barbecued food, and the aromas are absolutely delicious. I have a real craving for some meat or fish, or any kind of real food. I’m extremely tired of dehydrated stuff – soup, rice, noodles, oatmeal. Maybe if I smile at them enough and look hungry they’ll offer me a bite to eat …

Bræðrafell --> Dreki, 25 km

2010-08-13T22:23:00.000+02:00

Photos: (1-2) Red hills; (3) The dusty road of that special highland moment; (4) Golf ball mushroom; (5) Red hills with snow-capped Mt. Snæfell; (6) An old crater

How wonderful to sleep in a real bed! The first time in two weeks. I still tossed and turned a lot in the night with back and body aches, but I feel great this morning. It’s 15°C inside the hut this morning and still quite dark since the sun is on the other side of the hut where there are no windows, and Herðubreið is blocking the sun as well. It’s mild and there’s no wind but it’s cloudy and looks like rain in the direction I’m going. The hut is so cozy though that I don’t want to leave, so I take my time with breakfast and packing up my things. It’s strange that my phone works here, and yesterday too, strange to be so alone day and night yet able to send text messages or call anywhere in the world.

It’s already raining when I begin my hike. Very light at first, but it will get worse as the day progresses. And so will the wind. The weather is terrible for about the first 13 km, and the terrain is rough at first going through the lava, but I’m in extremely good spirits today. The trail is well-marked so I don’t have to think much, but I still lose some of the trail markers going through the lava and have to hunt a bit. I see footprints all the way today. In spots the earth is unusually red and I spend a lot of time looking at rocks, despite the rain rolling off my hood. Then for a few kilometers the trail runs parallel to a dirt road. On this dusty black road, shivering with cold, with the wind whipping in my face and the rain running down my nose, I experience one of those special highland moments. An incredible high, or rush of energy, and an overwhelming feeling of gratefulness. I am alive! And I am out here fulfilling my dreams. And this gratitude goes well beyond the moment, the beauty of nature here and now, but extends to my whole life in general. I am grateful for everything, for the experience of living, for the good and bad. Such experiences recharge my batteries and give me the strength do deal with just about anything life will toss my way.

Grinning and light-footed, I thoroughly enjoy the hike today. The rain eventually stops, the sky clears and snow-capped mountains are visible off in the distance. The trail meanders through lava fields again, offering plenty of nice large rocks to sit on for short breaks. I come across a rare mushroom that I’ve never seen before that is round and white like a golf ball. The terrain is very beautiful and I also discover a new type of moss that I’m unfamiliar with as well. I’ve got one eyeball focused on the ground and one on the horizon as I walk. I don’t know where to look, it’s all incredible. Eventually the jeep track is visible from the trail and occasionally a jeep will pass, often stopping to photograph me trudging through the moonscape.

In no time at all I reach the cluster of huts known as Dreki. I get a bed in the hut instead of camping and end up actually having a room to myself all night. I pay for the last night in Bræðrafell as well. It feels good to be indoors again, sitting at a table for a meal or to write in my journal. It’s great how such simple pleasures can make me happy. Even my Spot messenger works on the window sill so I don't have to go outside.

Although the route was relatively long today, it was so varied and interesting that the time just seemed to fly by. It was also nice being on a marked trail the last two days where I didn’t have to worry much about orientation. That allowed me to focus my attention on other things, like the details around me. I’ll definitely come back here and hike the entire Öskjuvegur one day. I’ve gotten my first taste of it and it was actually much better than I expected. But for now I’ll just stay here for a day or two and explore the area.

Herðubreiðarlindir --> Bræðrafell, 21 km

2010-08-12T22:36:00.008+02:00

Photos: (1) The first few kilometers; (2) Lava and interesting clouds; (3) Breaktime; (4) Snow-capped peak of Mt. Snæfell; (5-6) Bræðrafell hut, inside & out; (7) Majestic Herðubreið in the evening sun

There’s a cold wind this early morning and a beautiful sunrise with a few wispy clouds at 12°C. In the night a few more campers came – two guys on bicycles and an Icelandic couple put up tents next to mine, and a few other people are camping right next to their cars. It’s great hiking weather and I’m ready to go!

I stop in the warden’s hut to tell them my plans for safety reasons and the guy inside says he just returned from Bræðrafell. The rainwater catch containers are about half full, he says, but the water should be boiled since it’s a bit dirty. He also tells me about a snowmelt run-off on the north side of Herðubreið (N65 12.147 W16 21.709) where I can get fresh water. It will be the only place on the 20k route to get water. But to be on the safe side, I carry 4 liters with me, two for today and two for tomorrow. After all, it’s better to be safe than sorry! I’m also one of those people who drinks a lot of water hiking or else I get headaches.

I’m a bit unsure of the route today, supposedly the trail is marked the entire way, but the GPS track differs considerably. The GPS route seems to be more direct and thus shorter, but I’m out here to hike and not to shave off kilometers from the route, so I opt to stick to the marked trail. However, I’m not sure if the trail is marked all the way to Bræðrafell, since there is also a trail going all the way around the mountain and I wouldn’t want to end up going back to where I came from. But there’s always a bit of uncertainty to every hike, regardless of how well-planned it may be – that’s the fun of it!

I’m on the trail now, and the first 3.5 km west to the foot of the mountain are strenuous and rough on the feet, crossing the uneven lava field. But the weather is great and I take the time to take plenty of pictures and even try a few with the self-timer. I take a short break at the base of Herðubreið and proceed north and then up through a pass where it’s windy and cold. The trail remains at this higher elevation and the terrain is still grueling – now being deep sand. So far the trail is well-marked although I have to hunt for the sticks at times. The wind is very strong and makes it difficult to take more than just a short break under the protection of large rocks. Soon I reach the snow run-off and I drink an entire liter of ice cold water on the spot. The trail is heading south now and once I’m exactly halfway around the mountain I reach a parking lot at the end of a jeep track. It’s raining here, but only for about fifteen minutes. I put on my raingear and keep it on the rest of the hike since it offers great protection from the wind. There’s a sign here pointing to the route to Bræðrafell, and the trail is well-marked again. It leads through more endless sand and lava. The sky is interesting today with unusual cloud formations and a bit of sun. The landscape is interesting as well and never boring. The last few kilometers are tough – my body aches and the wind is so strong that I really can’t take a proper rest. The hut is visible quite a distance away and I’m wondering if anyone is there.

I arrive at the hut at 4pm. It’s nestled in a beautiful site with a great view of the west side of Herðubreið. It’s great to be able to see this magnificent mountain from all sides in all weather. The hut is empty and I pick a spot right near the door and coal stove. But once I’m out of the wind, it’s not that cold and there’s no need to get a fire going. There’s enough water in the rain catch containers to cook with and I still have over two liters of fresh water for the hike tomorrow, which is dry as well. The windows in the hut allow me good views of both ends of the trail so I could see someone from a distance if they were to approach. But no one comes and I’m alone the whole night.

The hut is very cozy with six bunks, whereby each can easily fit two people. There’s a big bin of coal for the stove and clear directions on how to use it. I make dinner and drink hot water (no tea, remember). It’s a cozy 17°C inside and I spend the evening just reading and writing and being lazy. I go outside for a short photo shoot and the evening sunlight is spectacular, which allows me to shoot an amazing and memorable photo of Herðubreið and a few nice ones of the hut. But the strong wind soon drives me back inside to the comfort of the hut.

Mývatn --> Herðubreiðarlindir, 12 km day hikes

2010-08-11T22:26:00.008+02:00

Photos: (1) Bus to Askja and Axel the driver; (2) Campsite at Herðubreiðarlindir; (3) Mount Herðubreið; (4) River Jökulsá á Fjöllum; (5) Getting water from a river; (6) The hut

I’m awake before 5am. The weather is dry and mild but cloudy, 13°C. I’m packed real early and have time to watch the birds that swarm the campsite. They’re quite loud and occasionally a camper with cuss and poke his head out the tent, looking for the cause of disruption. Here at Mývatn I often have birds land on the roof of my tent. Their little feet make loud pitter patter noises, but I love that sound. This morning though, the campsite is swarming with gulls and ducks looking for bits of food. It’s also fun to watch the people slowly wake and stir. Mornings have always been my favorite time of the day.

The bus is almost full but I have a window seat. The price for a one way ticket is 12,000 ISK. The bus driver is Axel, a smiling guy who doesn’t talk much. But the guide is a young girl and she tells all kinds of stories all the way, which makes the trip quite interesting. The water along the rivers Lindaá and Jökulsá á Fjöllum is very high, and just recently this road was blocked because of the high waters. Evidently the waters are high because of the unusually warm summer, which is melting the glaciers and causing the water in the glacial rivers (Jökulsá) to rise. This road along the rivers looks like it might wash away entirely one day soon, and in fact, as I followed the road conditions later in my journey, I saw the road was often closed again and again for the same reason. I’m lucky to be able to travel here at all.

I get off the bus at Herðubreiðarlindir, along with two hikers who start off right away for the first leg of hiking Öskjuvegur. Everyone else in the bus is allowed to take a long lunch break at this green oasis in the desert, and two ladies from Norway chat with me as I set up my tent. It’s still very early in the day, there’s a clear blue sky and the weather is warm, and I’m as happy as can be! This is a national park, and the ranger here offers a free guided one-hour walk through the lava. I’m the only person to take advantage of that opportunity, and the ranger turns out to be a geology student who is spending her summer working as a ranger. It’s an interesting walk, and I’m grateful she takes the time to share her knowledge with me. She shows me, for example, the water pump that was built many years ago and is still working fine, to pump water from the river into the tanks behind the hut for the showers and toilets, and I appreciate the work that went into building a facility like this in the middle of nowhere.

Back at camp, I lie in the sun on my air mattress for a short nap. Throughout the course of the day, I alternate between napping in the sun and hiking one of the many marked trails, which are each a few kilometers long. I walk a total of 12 km and take several naps, what a life! One of these hikes leads to the spot where the two powerful glacier rivers meet, Jökulsá and Kreppá (“á” means river in Icelandic) and I sit for a long time on the shore watching the powerful floods. Amazing. Afterwards I pick up a map of Öskjuvegur from the warden and some coins for the shower before returning to my tent the evening. Back at camp, I realize I’ve forgotten the small bag containing tea and vitamins, so I’m compelled to drink hot water for the next few days. Also, forgetting the vitamins is a big psychological mistake, and I can feel my cold worsening by the minute without vitamin C :-)

Anyway, this spot is simply incredible, and the excellent weather sure helps. My tent is the only one at the campsite, perched in the grass against the backdrop of this spectacular mountain that I have dreamed of seeing for such a long time. This oasis is lush, with colorful flowers and moss decorating the green grass, along with plenty of water from rivers and lakes. There’s also an abundance of crowberries and even blueberries in spots. But off in the distance, Mount Herðubreið juts out of the bleak desert, called Ódáðahraun. Off in the other direction, the snowcapped peak of mount Snæfell is visible. As I’m dozing off in the evening, two cyclists set up camp and a few people are sleeping in the hut. But summer is drawing to an end already, and travelers are becoming scarcer…. Although I originally considered spending another day here, I’d like to move on tomorrow. I’ve hiked all the trails and I’m ready for a new adventure.

More R&R at Mývatn

2010-08-10T21:29:00.003+02:00

Photos: (1-2) Sunset at lake Mývatn

The temps are a chilly 6°C at night, but that means it will be another nice warm day. I sleep long again, until 8:45. I still feel a bit tired and sore, but much better than yesterday. My blisters are healing well, too. I’ll rest here one more day, and tomorrow I should be ready to head to Askja. After packing supplies for my next adventure, and storing my extra things at the campsite reception, I buy my bus ticket for the next day. Then I head to the pharmacy for something to psychologically help the cold that’s still approaching. I have plenty of vitamins, but buy a few other things to pacify me. Then after all that hard work this morning, I deserve a treat, so I walk to the local outdoor pool. I stay there for a very long time. The weather is a bit cooler today, but mostly sunny, and in between dips in the hotpots and pool, I stretch out on one of the lounge chairs. This is the first time I’ve been to the local pool here and I quite like it; it’s also much cheaper than the Nature Baths.

In the evening, the clouds come and the wind picks up. I take a short walk along the lake. It’s 14°C in my tent when I crawl into bed.

Resting at Mývatn, 10km day hike

2010-08-09T22:14:00.000+02:00

Photos: (1-3) On the way to the Nature Baths (incl. the crater Hverfell); (4) Mývatn Nature Baths

I sleep late, past 8am and still feel worn out when I wake up. My neck and shoulder hurt and feel swollen; I think my backpack is pressing on a nerve or something, which is also giving me frequent headaches. When I head to the toilets, there’s a line and it seems quite absurd to me to wait in line to go to the bathroom when for the last week I’ve just went whenever and wherever I please. That’s freedom!

After this philosophical start to the day, do some laundry to make use of the sun. It’s about 19°C, t-shirt weather. Later I ask at the info center about a bus into the Askja region; seems to be no problem, just very expensive, so that’s what I’ll do just as soon as I feel rested.

Askja is one of the few areas in Iceland that I haven’t seen yet. I’ve always been fascinated by the mountain Herðubreið and my interest in Nordic mythology, which describes this mountain as the home of the gods (Asgard), adds to my enthusiasm. One day I’d like to climb it, but not this time! Originally I planned on hiking the entire Öskjuvegur, or Askja route, which would be nearly another week. But I think I’ll just hike part of the route and catch the bus back. I’m not feeling up to another taxing trek, and this is not one of the easiest routes since the area is very dry, lacking in rivers and thus fresh drinking water. That means carrying lots of heavy water or turning to other heavy alternatives (food that doesn’t require water to cook, etc.). Also, this trek is supposedly quite bleak – desert-like with lots of black sand, and thus psychologically taxing. (This later proves to be wrong, at least from my point of view; I find the area quite varied and interesting with lots of details to discover.)

But first thing’s first – rest and relaxation! I pack a small bag and head off to the geothermal spa – the Mývatn Nature Baths, on foot of course. It’s located about 5km from town, but the trail is well-marked and it’s an easy hike. At the parking lot of the crater Hverfell, there’s a taxi parked. A taxi? Who takes a taxi to these outdoorsy places? Very strange …

Shortly after that, I see an inviting birch tree and a colorful patch of moss. I just have to lay down there and soak up the sun, and in no time at all, I doze off. I awake to find a few people snapping my picture, so that’s my signal to move on. .. The Baths are not very full, but it’s almost too warm to soak in hot water. It feels great on my neck and shoulder though, and it feels good to be squeak clean again. I grab a bite to eat at the cafeteria, write a few postcards and make a phone call before hiking back to the campsite. Dinner is gas station food – a hot dog, can of fruit cocktail and chocolate milk, and it’s indeed a tasty break from all the dehydrated food I’ve been eating.

Landmannalaugar --> Mývatn via Sprengisandur

2010-08-08T22:43:00.002+02:00

Photos: (1) Aldeyjarfoss; (2-3) Goðafoss; (3) Mývatn – campsite Bjarg

It’s still raining hard when my alarm goes off at 5am. Time to get out of here. After a good breakfast, I pack up everything in the rain, and pack a small backpack to take inside the bus with me. I’m going to Mývatn and the ride is roughly 9 hours. I’ve been on this bus route before, and it’s hellish. The bus is full and I’m honored to have David sit next to me, a pleasant guy from Sweden, a biologist who’s just travelling around by bus, camping and day hiking. The weather is still horrible when we leave Landmannalaugar but will improve the further north we travel; finally when we stop at Aldeyjarfoss, I see the sun again for the first time in over a week. Even my shoes begin to dry out. In fact the weather is beautiful, which is convenient since the bus has a flat tire and we have to wait until it’s fixed. I heard it pop a while back on the road, but the driver didn’t stop right away. Now he’s crawling under the bus, and some of the passengers give him a hand. That leaves plenty of time to look at the waterfall though. Only David the biologist has his nose to the ground and is looking at plants. When we get in the bus again, he presents me with a handful of blueberries. Just a little gesture of thanks for all the snacks I’ve been feeding him the entire trip. I’m really tired of hiking food – nuts and granola bars, so I’ve been feeding him like a chipmunk all the way, and he didn’t seem to mind.

Anyway, the bus ride is long and uncomfortable, but it gives me a chance to think and reflect on everything I’ve experienced the last few days. Even though the weather was bad for the most part, it was an unforgettable hike. Not just the amazing scenery, but the solitude. I really enjoy being alone out there in the mountains, and hiking clears the cobwebs from my brain. At first I have a lot of thoughts running through my head, and then they subside and there is nothing at left at all – just the pureness of the current moment. It’s a feeling of such clarity and a source of strength. When I come out of the mountains, I always have a clear image of what I want in life for the future, and the strength to put my plans into action. Back in the big city and the routine of everyday life, this clarity slowly becomes clouded again and I gradually lose strength. I need this time alone hiking to get in touch with myself again. I admit it’s a bit lonely out there sometimes, and I would love to share the good times and bad with a willing listener. But I really need to do this alone, at least for a few days – it’s my journey, a sort of pilgrimage. I like the feeling of being completely responsible for myself, my decisions, my actions, and being in a situation with conditions (weather, health, etc.) that are unpredictable. My modern life is safe and secure, and I like the feeling of taking all that security away for a while. I also enjoy focussing on life’s basic needs – eating, sleeping, transportation. It makes me realize how little I really need to be happy and how much excess there is in my life. When I return home from a long trek, I usually have the need to get rid of things and eliminate excess baggage.

On the other hand, I often ask myself why I do it. I pay lots of money for good equipment, use up my valuable vacation time, spend days in a tent in the rain and cold and subject myself to physical exhaustion and bad food day after day. Isn’t that crazy? ...

We finally arrive in Mývatn over an hour late. I set up my tent at campsite Bjarg as usual. I’ve camped here before, and I like it here. Besides being in a real pretty spot on the lake, the staff here is so kind and helpful, regardless of what a person might need. I take advantage of that friendliness and deposit a bag of things for them to keep while I’m out hiking in the Askja region. But I’ll stay here for a few days first and relax. I’m pretty worn out, and I’m getting a cold.

The evening sunset is beautiful, and my gear is finally getting dry. It’s 15°C and it feels so good to finally be warm and not soggy.

Faxasund --> Landmannalaugar, 9km hike & bus ride

2010-08-07T16:15:00.002+02:00

Photos: (1) Early morning at Faxasund; (2-3) Evil weather at 700m; (4) Soggy Landmannalaugar

I’m awake often in the night, it’s raining so hard I never thought so much rain would be possible. All of the idioms for rain pop into my head: it’s raining cats and dogs (where on earth did that one come from?), it’s raining buckets (now that’s a bit more realistic), rained out (I hope that doesn’t happen to my tent), etc. Plus the wind is mega-strong again, a storm. The river is swelled with water and babbling quite loud. That’s another nice expression, a babbling brook. And indeed it does sound like voices at times. I often swear I hear people talking and look outside the tent to see nothing at all.

I’m undecided what to do in the morning. I should probably stay put and spend a rainday in the tent. But I admit that my psyche is not doing that well and I would probably drive myself bananas a whole day with just me, myself and I in this blasted tent in the rain. (You can see that my nerves are a bit raw today) :-) Besides, I really don’t think the weather will improve much, considering the pattern of the last week and the look of the sky right now. What would I gain by spending a day in the tent if tomorrow’s no better anyway? The only thing that kept me going in my dreams last night were thoughts of a hot shower or soaking in the hotpot at Landmannalaugar, since that’s one of the options that’s been running through my head. I initially planned on hiking another two days to reach Landmannalaugar, but there’s a bus that comes by at 11am from Eldgjá and I could hitch a ride if I just hiked to the main road (another 6 km) and found a nice spot to wait.

Yes, that’s what I’ll do. Get me out of here, get me out of these blasted highlands, out of the rain. A human being can only take so much :-) I admit I have reached my limit, and it feels great! This is why I do things like this. I love to test my limits and learn to stretch them. I guess some people call it “getting in touch with oneself”. It’s 8°C as I sip my morning tea, content with my decision. When the rain reduces to a heavy drizzle, leaving the wind as the main enemy to battle, I seize the opportunity and pack up my gear. As soon as I’m back on the trail, the weather turns evil again. The track climbs to a pass over 700m with whiplash wind and horizontal rain. They thrash me head on, right in my face, with occasional gusts from the side to throw me off balance. Visibility is zero, and progress is snaillike, uphill against the wind. But this time I remember to snap a few pictures to remember this moment. Good thing my camera is waterproof. Again, I remind myself to take some waterproof gloves along next time. It’s way too cold without, and my windstoppers are soaked in no time at all.

In the distance I see something, it must be a sign marking the road but in the fog my imagination runs away with me. As I approach, it is indeed a sign pointing to Faxasund, where I just came from. The main jeep track F208 intersects shortly after that. The road is broad and easy to follow, but I’m still atop this high mountain pass in the relentless wind and rain. But as the road snakes down the pass into the green valley, the wind lets up a bit, and my spirits rise. But there’s still no sign of weather improvement, so I look for a sheltered spot to wait and have some lunch. There’s a large rock that I can stand under that just barely blocks the worst of the elements. But nonetheless, it will be a horrible wait in the pouring rain and wind. After an hour of waiting, I’m frozen to the core. The sweat from hiking has cooled and I’m soaked and the wind is freezing. I put on my backpack to keep me warm and hop around a bit. I end up waiting nearly another whole hour and it turns into one of the most psychologically taxing moments of the whole journey. I think I’m close to hypothermia because I reach a point where I just don’t care about anything. I could hike to stay warm and catch the bus later, but I can’t move. I just stand there, rooted to the spot.

The bus finally comes and I wave it down, the driver gets out to help store my backpack and doesn’t seem to mind the rain. The bus is very full and no one wants to make room for me. I must look like a soggy dog and smell like one too. Finally someone relents and when I sink in the seat next to him, he asks with amazement if I was actually waiting for the bus out there. The bus is full of day tourists, and I envy their warm, dry clothes. I shiver for a long time, but now I have a roof over my head and it’s dry and I’m happy. I feel extremely out of place here though, among these people and in this bus. But I hope the ride never ends, I’m content just sitting where it’s dry, and outside it continues to rain.

The weather in Landmannalaugar is miserable and the campsite is soggy. The first thing I do after setting up camp is take a hot shower and it feels so good! Then I pick up the supplies from the warden that I had sent here with my friend. I spend the rest of the evening in the tent. I don’t even venture out to the hotpot since there’s no break in the rain.

There’s a storm in the evening and I even get out to see if the tent is holding up ok. The ground here in Landmannalaugar is so hard, it’s difficult to get the tent stakes in properly. Everything is ok with my tent, but many of my neighbors are having problems, and some try to dig a rain trench around their tents. Once again I have to say that I really like my tent. It holds up reliably in the most horrible of weather. The only problem that is starting to show this year is that the zippers on the inner tent are starting to go and I have to be very careful how I open them.

I’m not quite sure what I’ll do tomorrow; if the weather is nice, I may stay, but if there’s rain, get me out of here!

Örk --> Faxasund, 18,3 km

2010-08-06T22:32:00.000+02:00

Photos: (1) My campsite; (2) View over the two lakes, the one where I camped is on the right and Örk to the left; (3) View of the hut Örk from the hill; (4) Just before the weather station; (5) Rain; (6-7) Fountains spouting from the rock at Faxasund; (8) The last kilometer in bad weather

It’s 8°C at 5am but I stay in my sleeping bag for another hour. By 7:30 it’s warmed to 14°C and after breakfast I take a short photo walk. There are lots of birds chirping away this morning and even two ducks on the lake. The air is so still, there’s not a ripple on the water. It’s a beautiful little campsite and the weather is dry, although clouds still hang thick and the rain is probably just taking a short break.

I start today’s hike full of energy, but the steep hill right behind Örk drenches me in sweat after just a few minutes. The view at the top is rewarding, with a spectacular scene of both lakes and the mountains in the backdrop. Soon I come to a weather station perched atop the pass and Sigrid mentioned that there’s phone service up here, so I stop to check. My cell phone hasn’t had service in days and it would be nice to send a few messages and make a phone call or two. I spend a good half hour getting in touch with civilization while the rain decides to make a new appearance. I put on my rain gear and will unfortunately wear it the rest of the day.

I had actually planned to check out a lake in this vicinity called Volgalón, which is supposedly warm if the name does it justice. I found an amazing picture of it online, but it’s behind some tricky mountains and when I pass the spot, the pouring rain, wind and fog push me onwards without giving it a second thought. I’ll be back and do it another day.

Despite poor visibility, the route is spectacular. There are plenty of rivers to gather water with green valleys for taking breaks. The lush green attracts the sheep of course, and a few accompany me throughout the day. The stretches of road in between rivers is black and sandy. I listen to music today to keep my spirits up despite the rain. And I’m lucky enough that the rain stops briefly every few hours so I can take a proper break.

When I reach Faxasund, the weather is relentless again – whipping rain and wind, but I still take a proper look around. There are a few spots where water spouts straight from the rocks, it’s quite an interesting sight. Here the jeep track runs for probably a kilometer through the ravine right in the river. I have to cross several times, hopping from one side to another, but despite all the river crossings today, none is deep enough to require putting on sandals.

But after this nice spot, the weather takes a turn for the worse. It’s pouring rain and whipping wind, hitting me like pellets, and my body is quite sore now towards the end of the day. Listening to music saves my sanity. I finally reach the last river and valley on this route, before the track climbs to over 700m and intersects the more traveled road F208. This is my spot for the night, and I set up camp in the pouring rain. Once again I have puddles in the tent, but this time I just open the flaps and let the wind dry it out while I walk around and get acquainted with my surroundings. It’s a beautiful green valley and an interesting rocky gorge. But the weather is not too inviting for exploration and I crawl into the tent as soon as possible. Everything I’m wearing is soaked, right down to my shoes and socks. My hiking boots are several years old and I almost bought new ones this year but thought they could survive another season. Guess I was wrong.

It’s a chilly 9°C and it keeps pouring all evening. I make some hot soup to warm up and crawl into my sleeping bag to read. Later the two jeeps that were at Örk pass through and I stick my head out of the tent and wave. Eventually I doze off into a deep sleep.

Hike: Langisjór --> Örk, 19.5 km

2010-08-05T21:54:00.000+02:00

Photos: (1) Sigrid on the morning’s first uphill climb; (2) The first nameless lake near Örk; (3) The mountains surrounding Örk; (4) Ford crossing with Örk to the right and “my” lake on the left

I hear lots of birds in the night – ducks and ravens and a few other varieties. There’s a little duck family that swims around here sometimes – a mother and a whole flock of little ones. As I lie in my tent in the morning, I can’t hear any rain, but the silence turns out to be perpetual drizzle again. Sneaky and silent, it makes no noise on the tent. It’s 11°C this morning at 6am and very still, no wind. I had a hard time sleeping because my body aches, although I love the Downmat I’m using for the first time. It’s not only much more comfortable than the old Thermarest, but it also warms me from underneath. I feel like I’m sleeping on a cloud. The only drawback is that it’s slowly losing feathers as they get clogged in the deflate valve.

It’s time to say goodbye this little place. Luckily the rain makes departing a bit easier. If the weather were good, I might stay another day; I have time and plenty of food, but Sigrid has to move on to another rendezvous. We take a few last pictures of our campsite, our tents and ourselves and pack up in the rain. We’re on our way by 9:30 am and the first uphill climb is hard. On the way down when we arrived the other day I slipped, with it being quite steep and wet. So with this tumble still fresh in our memories, we climb slowly and deliberately. The rest of the way is mostly flat, but the rain is relentless, harder, thicker, and there’s not much to see but clouds and black sand. But even this is spectacular somehow, and there are not many people in the world who can truly enjoy something like this. As we approach the southern tip where we first met two days ago, the rain stops briefly, though the wind is strong and it’s cold. I consider going to Sveinstindur with Sigrid to dry off in the hut. Our things are pretty soaked after so much rain the last few days. But in the end, I decide to move on and after a few last pictures, we hike the last few meters together before going separate ways at the Breiðbakur intersection. Two or three jeeps pass, the first I’ve seen in days…

Alone again, I trudge west up the Breiðbakur route; visibility is still poor but there are often dry patches interspersed with the rain so it’s not all that bad. The route is sandy, black and monotone for several kilometers, with occasional green mountain peaks breaking through the clouds. I come across the first nameless lake amidst the dusty landscape. The weather is dry and there’s even a bit of sun, so I take a long lunch break. As I’m resting, a jeep passes by, and a bit later another one – Everyone waves with a friendly smile; I’ll see them later at the privately owned hut Örk.

Not too far beyond the lake, the landscape changes, getting greener with water and beautiful mountains. Örk is a flat-topped building that looks a bit like a mobile home from the distance, but nestled among some spectacular mountains. It looks like people use it for fishing. The two jeeps are parked alongside and a child is playing in the water. But first I have a river to cross, and this one is too deep to scoot across with my shoes on. The sky is heavy with clouds that look like they could burst at any moment, so I’m hoping the weather holds until I cross the river and find a place to camp. But I’m feeling a bit lazy so I merely zip the legs off my pants and change into my sandals, carefully strapping boots and pant legs to the top of my backpack. The river is a bit deeper than that and I get a little wet, but I’m used to being soggy and it doesn’t bother me much. On the other side, I go through the whole routine again – drying off the feet, putting back on shoes and socks, zipping up pant legs and hanging my sandals on the outside of the backpack to dry. The child playing off in the distance watches me with obvious amusement.

I’m feeling good and think about hiking a bit further today, but when I see the cute lake opposite Örk that I can have all to myself, I decide to call it a day. I pitch the tent in a soft bed of moss below the hill and the minute my little house is standing, the sky breaks loose and it starts to rain. But I’m dry and my gear is fairly dry in the tent. Only later do I discover that I’m camped in a bed of sheep poo! The weather is mild, only 14°C but the rain is relentless all evening and night, keeping me inside. Once I hear one of the jeeps from Örk but by the time I get the tent flap open to look outside, they’re pulling away. I guess they’re curious to see who’s out here in this weather, and I would have liked to say hi but they were gone too quickly.

I have plenty of free time cooped up in the tent in the rain. I try some goofy self portraits with the camera, and doctor up the blisters on my feet. I’m proud to say that I only have two blisters this year, one on each foot, but boy are they doozies! Both are underneath the toenail – the toenail is loose and about to fall off and the blister is bulging both at the cuticle and under the nail. This is the kind I had two years ago that got infected and I ended up having to take an antibiotic. So I’m careful this time and I disinfect them morning and night and dress them with fresh bandages. In the past I used to get lots of smaller blisters all over my toes – it wasn’t uncommon to have six or seven on each foot. But thanks to my new Injinji toe sock liners (thanks Carol for the tip!), my toes aren’t rubbing much anymore and blisters are reduced to a minimum.

I still have more chores to do though, like sew a hole in my woolen long johns and tie strings to my new sand/snow tent stakes, then I treat myself to some hot apple cider for work well done. Around 11pm the rain turns to drizzle and I drift off to sleep …

Exploration of Langisjór, 14 km

2010-08-04T21:22:00.005+02:00

Photos: (1-4) Langisjór

I’m awake at 5am with a splitting headache that’s close to a migraine. I had a bad one yesterday morning as well, and begin to think that it’s related to the pain in my shoulder. My backpack isn’t sitting right this year and it’s really straining my left shoulder – maybe it’s cutting off the blood supply to my head. In any case, my throbbing head pushes me out of the tent into the fresh morning air and I’m thankful for that. What a beautiful sky! It’s so great to see the sun, and there’s a bit of fog and clouds to make it interesting too. It might turn out to be a nice day. After taking a few pictures (and a few painkillers for my head), I crawl back into the tent.

I open my eyes again at 6:45 and can hear that Sigrid is awake too. We take our time with morning chores, pack small daypacks and head out to explore Langisjór a bit further along the shoreline to the north. The weather is dry, about 13°, and there’s even a bit of sun at times. My headache dissipates as the day progresses, or maybe I’m just too overwhelmed by the view to think about it. The jeep track goes right through the lake a few times, but we make our way along the shore, exploring a few dry ravines along the way, where great amounts of water surely must have once flown. Are they full in the spring? One dry river is so deep, with the banks over our heads, that it would certainly be impassable when filled with water.

We sit down for a short lunch and a few detailed photos of moss, sand and rocks as the clouds begin to roll in again. We know it’s time to head back soon, but the glacier holds a sort of magnetic fascination and we would both love to see it up close at the northern tip of the lake. But that will have to wait for another day. The first raindrops come and we start to head back. Changing in and out of our raingear becomes a sport all the way as the rain stops and starts again and again, but I finally just leave mine on and try to ignore the sweat.

Back at base camp, the weather changes every few minutes for the rest of the evening – a bit of sun and warm, then rain and some strong gusts of wind, and finally around 7pm the rain takes the lead again. But we’re grinning and silly from the great day we had exploring, that the weather has no effect on us. As Sigrid says, it’s an incredible privilege to be here - to experience this magical place in all of its splendor, to be in it and surrounded by it constantly, even in our sleep. Eventually our voices are still and I lie for a very long time in my sleeping bag with the flap open, staring out at the lake. Slowly a face takes shape in the mountains across the lake. It’s also resting its head and looking back at me. I smile in return and we just stare at each other for the longest time, with a sense of deep understanding passing between us – man and mountain. This is one of those magical moments of nature that cannot be shared or explained. A feeble attempt would be to say it feels like this spot in nature has sort of accepted my presence here (as opposed to merely tolerating it) and in return I’m flooded with a deep sense of gratitude that goes way beyond the current moment, extending to all of life itself. In any case, it’s a very personal thing, just between me and nature. In the tent next to me, Sigrid is silent and probably experiencing something similar herself …

Hike: Hvanngil --> Langisjór, 17.5 km

2010-08-03T22:22:00.001+02:00

Photos: (1) Morning at Hvanngil; (2) Rain; (3) Southern tip of Langisjór (sign: “no fishing”); (4) Looking over the lake in the fog

I make tea at 6:45 but don’t feel like peeking outside yet. The wind has stopped at least. First I take assessment of my body. My back feels fine but my shins are hurting pretty badly. That’s from going downhill way too fast yesterday (this shin pain will plague me for several days). I rub some soothing gel on them, which is only a psychological help. I’ve tried so many of these pain gels through all my sporting aches and have never found one that truly eases the pain. At least I don’s seem to have any blisters yet.

Next I take assessment of my clothes. Many have dried overnight in my sleeping bag. I had put them inside the silk liner to avoid getting my down sleeping bag wet. The synthetic clothes are completely dry, but not the wool top I was wearing. At least wool will still keep me warm when it’s wet, as opposed to synthetics. Now I at least have a dry base layer to wear today, but my boots are still soggy and my rain jacket and pants are still wet too.

I need to get water from the stream for breakfast, so I finally wager a look outside. The weather is mild, even warm, and it’s drizzling a bit. The sun is trying to poke through the clouds, but it won’t succeed all day, and the rain will eventually win the struggle again. But for now I can at least pack up comfortably, and I’m motivated and in good spirits. I set off at around 9:30 am, optimistically not wearing my rain pants, but I change back into them after just less than half an hour. The road is black again, bleak, but I can sense fuzzy green mountains at times when the rain lifts briefly. I pass a few signs along the way, pointing to Uxatindar, Hellnafjall, Grænifjallagarður and finally Breiðbakur. I pause for a few minutes to take a good look at the Breiðbakur route, which is the track I need to take to meet Sigrid, who is hiking alone from the other direction. We had agreed to meet at a certain GPS point on the upper Breiðbakur route sometime this afternoon or evening, hoping to pick a spot with a nice view over Langisjór from above. But it’s early in the day, and I’d like to take a short lunch break and have a look at the southern tip of Langisjór first. After all, seeing Langisjór is the scheduled highlight of this trek and I’d like to make the most of it, rain or shine.

A few minutes later, I can see the lake. I guess I expected to at least see a car here, considering all the pictures available of it on the internet, but there is no one; I’m alone, as I have been all along. I set down my pack and start taking pictures when I hear a whistle in the distance. A lone figure with a backpack, whistling and waving – Sigrid! How strange to be at such a breathtakingly beautiful, remote place after having been alone through storm and rain, physical pain, and emotional ups and downs – and then meet a person who has just been through the exact same thing. Up until this moment, Sigrid and I have been mere virtual friends, communicating on the internet or by telephone, but we had never met in person. I think meeting for the first time in a situation like this (and sharing memorable experiences the next two days) will create a bond that is sure to run deep. Luckily the rain takes a short break and we are able to have a bite to eat and chat about the last few days. But there’s just so much to say and it’s getting cold and wet again, so we decide to hike up the northwestern shore of the lake until we find a nice spot to camp. A bit later, we realize the sun is shining! What a warm welcome to this special place. We stop for a longer break, for food and water, and to dry out some of our things (a totally pointless task since it would start raining hard again shortly and not let up until the next day). But soon the clouds roll back in and we decide to get going again. The clouds soon burst and it rains a steady downpour. The sky is thick with clouds and it doesn’t look like it will let up soon. In fact, it rains even harder and harder, but we’re getting tired and need to find a campsite. We reject a couple that might have been fine, but thinking it would stop raining, we keep pursuing the perfect spot.

Exhaustion and cold eventually make us stop at the next nice spot, about 8 km upshore from the southern tip. We wait what seems like an eternity for the rain to let up at least a little, but the skies have no mercy. I’m soaked and freezing and just have to put up my tent and get warm, so I go about the task as quickly as possible. The work at least gets my blood flowing again and keeps me warm, but when my tent is standing, there’s a large puddle on the inside. I do my best to mop it up before spreading out my sleeping bag and air mattress. Sigrid has better luck with her tent in the rain and can crawl into a dry little home. We’ve made sure our tent flaps face each other so we can chat even when we’re inside. And I have an amazing view of the lake and mountains while lying in my sleeping bag.

It rains on an off all evening. During the short dry spells, we dash outside to fetch water, wash clothes or dishes or snap a picture. Sigrid bathes in the lake and I admire her brave spirit to endure that freezing water. Mostly we sit in our respective tents and chat while doing some chore or another. Once Sigrid moans from out of her tent and when I ask what’s up she says: “Oh nothing in particular, it’s just nice to have someone around to listen”. I entirely agree, and content with the day, our beautiful camping spot and this amazing lake, I drift into a pleasant sleep.

The trek begins: Skælingar --> Hvanngil, 16 km

2010-08-02T22:53:00.009+02:00

Photos: (1) Skælingar hut; (2) Remnants of the jökulhlaup; (3) The river Skaftaá; (4) Blautulón

It’s pouring rain and I’m sitting here in the Skælingar hut. It’s already 9am and I’m eager to start my trek. But the rain is relentless and the wind is strong.
I arrived in Iceland just two nights ago in a warm and sunny Reykjavík, but headed straight for Eystri-Sólheimar where I picked up the supplies I sent from Germany. Yesterday a friend drove me here to the Skælingar hut to begin a long trek that will include my first glimpse of Langisjór before continuing along the Breiðbakur route to Landmannalaugar.
Skælingar is empty – no signs of life. The late afternoon was pleasant and dry when I set up camp, but the weather worsened as the evening progressed. I took a walk along the Skaftaá, observing the remnants of the recent jökullhlaup (a glacial outburst flood). The river banks were muddy and soggy from the receding water and I kept a respectable distance. The hut’s surroundings are beautiful with interesting rock formations, though the hut itself is a bit primitive and not very cozy. It’s a mild 15°C when I finally crawled into my sleeping bag last night.
But somewhere in the realm of sleep, the rain and wind moved in, and after moving basecamp from the tent to the hut for breakfast in the morning, I start getting restless. I’m alone now, my friend has left and there’s no turning back. I’m torn between apprehension and excitement. Visibility is close to zero with the fog and thick clouds, and on this first day, the route is mostly unmarked through the mountains to the hut at Sveinistindur. I’m unfamiliar with the area, which adds to my insecurity, but I’ve memorized maps all winter long and am armed with a GPS and compass.
I wait another hour or so and finally decide to brave the elements. The road leads north behind the hut and gains in elevation. Visibility is poor and at times I have trouble recognizing the jeep track and catch myself straying from it. At the top of the pass I’m supposed to leave the road and navigate without a trail. I give it a try, relying on my GPS but quickly give up and struggle to find the road again. What a shame, this is supposedly one of the prettier routes in the area and all I see is wet fog and the ground beneath my feet. I trudge on, and need a break, but the whipping wind and rain make it impossible to take a break. I catch myself walking too fast because of the weather, and to stay warm. My clothes are soaked despite good rain gear and my shoes are soggy. I set the goal of reaching Blautulón, just 9 km after Skælingar, and hope I’m able to take a short lunch break there. My pack is very heavy since I’m carrying more than 10 days of food, hoping to spend ample time exploring the areas I pass through. (Little did I know at the time that the constant rain would push me through in just six days.) Unfortunately I can’t see much of the landscape. The clouds hang low and the rain is thrashing the left side of my face so that I walk with my head down and turned to the side.
At Blautulón the weather gods have mercy for five whole minutes and I’m able to set down my pack and chomp down a handful of nuts before the rain starts again. I can’t rest for long anyway because I’m getting cold and don’t want to put on more clothes because they would just get wet. The area is beautiful though, even in the rain. The jeep track runs right through the eastern edge of the lake but I walk just above the shore on the sloping grass. Shortly afterward, I reach the more frequented route F235. So far I haven’t seen a single person or car, but I expect this road would be much more frequented and constantly think that a jeep will pass me by. (Actually I was secretly hoping to hitch a ride, my morale was quite low and I was very wet and cold. But little did I know at the time that I wouldn’t see a car for at least 2 days.)
F235 is bleak and black and sandy, and there’s no real place to rest. I plod on with my back beginning to hurt terribly for lack of a real break. I’m hungry and my initial enthusiasm has hit rock bottom. The pressure of having to be at Langisjór the next day to meet a friend keeps me going, or I would have stopped long before and crawled into a dry tent. Finally some larger rocks come into sight, I sit for a few seconds, and plod on, and sit again, and plod on, and sit again. And while sitting I realize I’m at a river, a ravine, and it’s green and looks like a nice place to camp. So I set up my tent in the pouring rain at Hvanngil after 16 km. It’s extremely early in the day, only 2 pm, since I took no breaks.
After pitching my tent, I crawl into my sleeping bag to warm up and put some music on the headphones. It’s a real storm outside, the wind is rattling the tent and right now I just need to rest and get warm. I shiver for a long time before I’m finally able to sit up and take in the situation. My gear is absolutely soaked – shoes, socks and everything I was wearing. Luckily I have a dry set of clothes to wear in the tent. I make some hot soup and stuff some of my clothes into my sleeping bag to soak up the body heat. I realize that I took hardly any pictures today. I guess I was too preoccupied with everything else going on! :-)
I doze on and off all evening and through the night. At 3:30 am the wind stops and I crawl out of the tent. The rain has diminished to a strong drizzle. The clouds still hang thick in the valley with no sign of it letting up. Back to bed …

Trek 2010

2010-07-29T07:21:00.000+02:00

The next trek is coming up real soon. Here's the plan:

1st trek: Eldgjá, Skælingar, Sveinstindur, Langisjór, Breiðbakur, Örk/Botnlangalón/Volgalón, Faxafit/Kattarhryggir, Kirkjufellsvatn, Landmannalaugar

2nd Trek: Öskjuvegur - Herðubreiðarlindar, Bræðrafell, Dreki, Dyngjufell, Botni, Sellandafall, Skutustaðir

Plus plenty of time along the way to explore in more detail.
If time allows, I'll have a first look at the Eastfjords too.
See you there!

Quick weekend trip to Iceland

2010-05-23T21:35:00.005+02:00

Photos: Day hike up Helgafell (340m) and ocean sunset, both near Reykjavík

Reykjavík scenes

2010-01-04T21:24:00.001+01:00

Time to go back home, here are some last images on my morning walk through Reykjavík (love that moon...)
I'll be back in the summer!

Hike up Esjan

2010-01-03T21:19:00.001+01:00

Early morning hike up Esjan with Súsanna during sunrise

Happy New Year!

2010-01-01T01:06:00.000+01:00

Flight back to Reykjavík

2009-12-30T20:58:00.000+01:00

Photos: (1-3) Views from the plane

Time to go back to Reykjavík. I absolutely loved Ísafjörður in the winter and I’d like to come back and ice climb or ski and definitely do some more snowshoeing. I’ll bring my own next time.

Snowshoeing in Ísafjörður

2009-12-29T21:45:00.000+01:00

Photos: (1) Siggi on snowshoes; (2) The old ski hut; (3) Avalanche blockades; (4) Summer houses in Ísaf.

Siggi and his son Haukur pick us up at the guesthouse at 10am. It’s still dark and has snowed a lot again in the night. We drive up the road towards the old downhill ski area. The lifts were destroyed in an avalanche in 1995, but the hut is still there and maintained and the area is now used for cross country skiing. Because there are a lot of deep snow drifts on the road, we leave the car at the side of the road just before the tunnel and walk to the hut. It’s quite a tiring climb because the snow is deep and it’s uphill. I finally get a chance to use my headlamp, and Haukur has one on too. To get in the hut, you have to push a buzzer and let yourself in. It’s warm, with a kitchen, bathrooms and a room with tables and chairs. The view is fantastic, with windows all around. It has electricity and running water.

But we don’t stay long, and head right outside. After we strap on our gear, we split up. The boys head for the pass to do some back country skiing. They want to ski behind the mountains and come out in the next town, and we can pick them up there at the end of the day. Siggi and I head uphill on our snowshoes. The wind is strong but I’m dressed properly, the thermometer says –8°C (17°F) but without the wind chill. It snows like crazy most of the time, the clouds are pretty thick and the wind blows around the snow so the views aren’t that fantastic. As we started to head back to the hut though it clears up. Siggi is having fun but he asks me not to tell anyone; He says that to anyone who skis, it’s blasphemy to use snowshoes here and no one ever does.

Back at the hut for lunch, there are a couple of skiers despite the trails not being groomed yet. We just have some tea and a quick snack and head back out again. We trudge around the mountain, heading towards the car since it is time to start looking for the boys. Siggi talks a lot about the avalanche and that’s interesting. He shows me a contraption out in the snow that measures its depth, so nowadays monitoring the risk is the best prevention there is. The main part of town is safe out on the peninsula, but there are other houses and parts of town in the risk zone. Close to the car, we jump and play in some really deep drifts for a while – you’re never too old to play in the snow!

After putting our gear back in the car, we drive to Hnifurdalur to look for the boys. Siggi tells more stories, and I learn that he was a shipbuilder before he started his adventure touring company. We drive straight through the village out onto a path into the valley, but the snowdrifts are high and we got stuck. After a futile try to dig the tires out with our hands, Siggi uses one of the skis to push the snow out from underneath the car. He doesn’t carry a shovel or kitty litter in the car like every good Wisconsin girl learns to do in the winter. It’s getting dark and there’s a near full moon in the sky when the boys finally arrive, Haukur up front and Lee way behind. Hauker looks fresh and chipper, and Lee is absolutely exhausted but happy, grinning from ear to ear. They’re both starving since it was too cold to take a lunch break. It was a great day, and we’re all happy. The hotpot is calling…

Mountain climbing in Ísafjöðrur

2009-12-28T22:06:00.001+01:00

Photos: (1-2) First views of Ísafjörður as we ascend the mountain; (3) Taking a break, look how steep! The town below; (4) On all fours, looking for a grip; (5-6) At the top - Gleiðahjalli (500m); (7-8) Views from the top

At breakfast I’m finally formally introduced to Lee, the guy from Montreal. We meet again later at the tourist information center, which had been closed for a while for the holidays. Now the snow has been shoveled from the doorstep and two men are inside. I ask about the mail boat that takes the mail to the islands around here, and anyone is welcome to go along on that, but it already went yesterday. The guy says they were kayaking in the harbor yesterday but today the ice is too thick. He says he could probably arrange just about anything with a phone call, so what do we want to do? Lee and I would both like to do something outdoors in the snow, so the man offers to call a friend who would probably be willing to do some adventure stuff – Lee wants to ski. I’d just be interested in a short hike in the mountains or some snowshoeing. The man arrives and we agree on a hike up in the mountains today…

Siggi arrives at noon. We trudge through town and then straight uphill. I realize we’re climbing the steep mountain right next to the town, called Eyjarfjall. I thought we were going to hike IN the mountains, not UP the mountain. I would never have dreamed that was possible. It’s so steep, and with all the snow! It’s extremely hard work, and Siggi is fast. I don’t want to get too far behind. We climb up the rocky parts since the rocks offer good grip, except of course when they are loose and come tumbling down. It’s mighty scary at times. If you slip on the loose rocks, you’d tumble down the steep slope with no stopping. The snow covers the holes between the rocks, which make dangerous foot traps. I don’t even want to think about all the dangers and if I were alone, I’d probably never do this. Siggi tells us the rules of climbing – don’t use your hands because it loosens up rocks that might tumble and hit the person behind you. Unfortunately, his advice is nuts – Lee and I are crawling on all fours most of the time. One spot is so steep and icy, that it feels more like free rock climbing. I’m sure glad I’m wearing gloves with a good grip.

It’s snowing all the way up pretty hard, visibility is poor, we take a few breaks and Siggi tells lots of stories. He’s a fun guide and I feel confident with him. At the top at roughly 500 m (1600 ft), there’s a guestbook to sign, stored in a plastic container. In the distance, the near full moon has risen. The town is so far below. We’re soaked with sweat and proud that we made it, nearly 500 meters. We reward ourselves with a snack, some chocolate, dried fruit and water.

I’m a bit worried about the way down – there’s no way to go back down the way we came on the rocks, they’re way too loose and dangerous. But Siggi knows what he’s doing, and he leads us to a very steep snowy spot. The first stretch is rocky with deep snow, and at one point I fall in and smash my shin on a rock. It’s very painful, but no damage is done, so after a short breather, we’re ready to continue. Soon we reach a powdery slope, almost vertically steep, and Siggi jumps feet first and slides on his butt all the way down the hill. It’s a blast, just like sledding, and using your feet to turn and brake. We’re at the bottom in no time like that. That was so much fun, hiking and playing in the snow all day. I’m soaked but warm from the exercise. In the evening, I soak in the hotpot at the pool.

Ísafjörður

2009-12-27T23:30:00.002+01:00

Photos: 1-2) The Arctic Express; 3-6) Views around Ísafjörður

I'm on my way to Ísafjörður. Clear skies and no wind. I have a window seat and enjoy looking out. The farther north we travel, the thicker the layer of snow becomes that covers the landscape. Flying into the fjord is beautiful. We come quite close to the mountain and land after just a 40-minute flight. I had been watching the Ísafjörður webcam on the internet all through December and there had been no snow at all. But just around Christmas time, they got quite a snowstorm and it hasn’t stopped since. So when we land, there’s a thick layer of the fluffy white stuff. I feel like we’re on the Arctic Express. The tiny plane lands at the tiny airport and we’re surrounded by steep mountains, the ocean and lots of snow. I’m happy – this is exactly what I wanted. There’s a little mini van outside with a friendly lady driver that takes me and one other guy into town for ISK 500. We’re both staying at the Gamla Gistihúsið. Inga is waiting at the reception, my booking came through fine. I pay for three nights, toss my things into the room, throw some snowpants over my jeans and head outside to enjoy the few hours of daylight. I walk up and down the streets and around the harbor. There’s lots of snow in the streets, not much has been plowed and it’s difficult walking. There are people outside everywhere – walking with dogs, sledding or cross-country skiing down the roads. The fjords are covered in snow, everything is bright and cheery, and the houses are decorated for Christmas. I walk for six hours total, with two breaks to warm up, grab something to eat, and drink tea. I absolutely love the snow and could stay outside forever. One day I’ll try my hand at winter camping.

2009-12-26T22:43:00.001+01:00

Photos: People out on the ice on the frozen pond, Tjörnin

The pond is finally frozen...

Christmas Eve 2009

2009-12-24T23:15:00.001+01:00

Photos: Christmas decorations, map of Iceland at the courthouse, boats at the old harbor, Hallgrímskirkja just before midnight mass

Back in Iceland for the holiday season...

Home

2009-08-06T22:10:00.007+02:00

We spent the last two days in Reykjavík, shopping, drinking coffee, eating lots of wonderful food, meeting friends, swimming, strolling through the old cemetery, and lots more. Ernesto left this morning at 4am and I have a few hours left in Reykjavík to process the events of the last five weeks. It’s raining, as though the weather were telling me it’s ok to go home. I take a morning stroll in the rain, decked out in full rain gear, and end up having breakfast at Tíu Dropar. Leaving is not as difficult as it used to be, because I know that I’ll be back soon. The waitress at my favorite café won’t even notice that I'm gone; I’m already planning my next trip, hoping that I can come back at Christmas and spend more time in this wonderful city. I’ve seen a great deal of Iceland in 11 trips over the last eight years, many of those for more lengthy periods of up to 7 weeks. Already I feel a yearning to get back into the highlands and hike, but that will have to wait. I just may be too busy next year looking for a new place here to call home …

Grindavík --> Reykjavík

2009-08-04T21:56:00.001+02:00

Photos: Reykjavík (1) view from Perlan, (2) view from Hallgrímskirkja

The weather is dreary but dry until we get our tents packed up and then it starts pouring. It was our last night of camping, so I throw away my ultralight groundsheet that never lasts more than one trip (I use an emergency blanket cut to size). I give the rest of our fresh vegetables to some fellow campers and we put out a couple disposable grills and some gas for anyone to take. The rain keeps coming down as we drive to Reykjavík and first stop at a larger 66° store so Ernesto can add to his clothing collection. In the store, I realize how grubby I am. I’ve been wearing the same pants for two weeks and although I always washed my shirts out by hand, clean is an entirely different story. This wouldn’t bother me at all out in the wilderness, but here I feel strangely out of place and while Ernesto is still trying on clothes, I return to the car and dig out my clean blue jeans that I only wear in the city. This is all part of the slow but necessary process of adjusting to reality as opposed to living a dream.

Kerlingarfjöll --> Grindavík

2009-08-03T21:53:00.004+02:00

Photos: (1) Somewhere between Kerlingarfjöll and Grindavík; (2-3) Krýsuvík; (4) Kleifarvatn

It’s chilly this morning when we leave Kerlingarfjöll, but by the time we reach Gullfoss, it’s a warm 12° and mostly sunny. The clouds are fluffy and very low in the sky. It’s quite a shock to be around so many people. Geysir is worse yet, and we only stay a few minutes. Someone should move these attractions to downtown Reykjavík; here on the edge of the highlands, the stark contrast between tourist magnet and vast nothingness is just to great for a sane mind to comprehend. We continue further south, past Selfoss on road #34, and the further south we get, the warmer the weather becomes. We stop for some pictures at the beach just past Eyrarbakki where the new restaurant Hafið Bláa opened about two years ago. Kids are swimming happily in the ocean, though the wind is wild and strong. The restaurant overlooks the ocean and I bet it’s great there in the winter or in a storm. Back in the car, the road soon turns to gravel as we head towards Krýsuvík. Shortly before Krýsuvík, we stop at the bubbling mud pots. Krýsuvík itself is bit crowded as well, and unfortunately many people ignore the designated walking areas and trample on the delicate landscape to get the perfect picture. We continue on a bit to Kleifarvatn before turning around and heading to Grindavík.

I first drove through Grindavík in 2001 and again in 2004. It was a sleepy little fishing town with dilapidated houses. I barely recognize it today as we drive through. It seems like it’s expanded to ten times its old size. There are new residential districts, and a new campsite with good facilities – but no shower. I wonder if the town is expanding due to the increased amount of tourism at the Blue Lagoon. The Lagoon is changing fast too – I already noticed last winter that the entrance fee has more than doubled to ISK 4000 per person, and there are no more free little packets of lotion. Drinks are now served at a bar on the catwalk outside – I feel like I’m in the Bahamas. My civilization shock is now complete, and I’m getting ready to go home.

Hveravellir --> Kerlingarfjöll

2009-08-02T21:44:00.004+02:00

Photos: (1) Airfield near Kerlingarfjöll; (2) Gígjarfoss; (3-4) Campsite & mountains at Kerlingarfjöll

We’re up at 8 am, the weather is dry and partly sunny with a strong wind. We take a morning hike to the crater Strýtur and are back on the road by 3 pm. I’m a bit relieved to leave Hveravellir, it’s changed so much in the last two years and I don’t really like how it’s developing. But today we’re headed to Kerlingarfjöll – I’ve always wanted to spend more time there. I’ve only been there once, when the bus stopped there for 45 minutes. The area is fascinating even from far away and I’ve always vowed to return.

The road F347 is much easier driving this time. There are new pipes leading the rivers underneath the road, so there are no more rivers to ford. Even the ford at the waterfall Gígjarfoss is gone. Ernesto is a bit disappointed since he was looking forward to bathing our Korean tour guide. Along the way, I finally get the chance to photograph my favorite airfield. These little pyramids dotting the landscape in Iceland denote airfields, and they’re often in the most desolate of places. At the campsite, we pop in the café to pay the fee. The lady taking the money is so pleasant and we immediately feel welcome – what a contrast to Hveravellir. I buy a hiking map, although it’s obvious that the only thing that Ernesto wants to do is check out the hotpot. I’m a bit disappointed since I’d really like to hike in this area. The trails are well-groomed, and there’s a lot to see, including hot springs that supposedly shoot out in all directions like crazy. While looking for the hotpot, we run into two Swiss guys grinning from ear to ear, saying how beautiful these springs are. But it’s late and we barely have time to see the hotpot before it starts getting dark. The route follows the river, and at one spot there’s a spout of water shooting out of a rock like a drinking fountain. The earth around the riverbed is deep red, indicating high iron deposits again. There’s a couple in the hotpot when we arrive, and we make the mistake of not testing the water temperature before we jump in. It’s cold, and it’s rusty. The water is so laden with iron that it turns our skin red. We snap a few pictures and jump out as quickly as possible, much to the amusement of other two swimmers who are obviously having fun.

While wandering around in the higher elevations at Kerlingarfjöll, I saw lots of obsidian. Just small pieces, but pretty nonetheless. Back at the campsite, there’s a party in full swing. It’s a long holiday weekend for the Icelanders and they’re having fun. It’s a bit loud, so I put on my headphones and fall fast asleep.

Drangsnes –-> Hveravellir

2009-08-01T21:13:00.006+02:00

Photos: (1-3) Scenes near Hvammstangi; (4) Blöndulón on the Kjölur route; (5) Emergency shelter on Kjölur; (6) Hot springs in Hveravellir

The weather is grey when we finally leave Drangsnes behind. At Hólmavík we want to get some cash but the machine swallows Ernesto’s card. Oh no! The bank is closed for the holiday weekend, so we go to the tourist information center and they are happy to help. The lady calls a bank employee who meets us at the bank. She simply brings out the card and gives it to us, no questions asked. This would be so much more complicated in Germany and it’s one example of the simplicity in Iceland that I truly adore.

It’s rainy and cold so we just drive nonstop south on road #61. At the intersection of the Ring Road #1, there’s a large gas station and we decide that we’re quite sick of lamb and would like some fast food. After having coffee first, we order cheeseburgers (made of lamb of course) and fries with that great cocktail sauce. Before we leave, we use the cash machine (that thankfully works) and pick up a few brochures from the area.

Before heading onto the highlands on the Kjölur route, we stop in Hvammstangi at the seal museum, then head north on road #711 to look for seals and actually do see quite a few. They’re so far away though that it’s difficult to get a good picture without using a tripod. We continue all the way around road #711 before getting back on the Ring Road for a short time. In Blönduós, we get gas and coffee, and even wash the car before heading into the highlands. The car was so dirty that I hated even touching the door handle.

By now the weather is clearing up and our mood along with it. Driving along road #35, I just have to grin. I’m in the highlands again, and for some reason I just feel at home here. The West Fjords were beautiful, and interesting – but this is home. It’s a feeling of familiarity and belonging and it’s tempting to just get out of the car and walk, and walk, and walk. Near Hveravellir, there’s a gate across the road put up by the Chief Veterinary Office – maybe they’re trying to keep the sheep out. The trip goes fast, the road is in pretty good shape, and we finally arrive in Hveravellir at 8 pm. The same lady warden is there, and she hasn’t learned any manners in the past two weeks – she’s as rude as ever. After a light meal, we jump in the hotpot and boy is it hot today. In fact it’s scalding, so someone moves the pipe to direct the hot water away from the pool for a while.

Drangsnes --> Djúpavík/Krossnes

2009-07-31T21:02:00.009+02:00

Photos: (1) Driftwood on the beach; (2) A nameless fjord; (3) Emergency shelter; (4) Nauteyrarpottur; (4) Old herring factory in Djúpavík; (5) Djúpavík; (6) Krossneslaug; (7) Drangsnes with Grímsey island in the background

This morning, Ernesto wants to go deep-sea fishing and whale watching, and we heard that a small tour leaves from the Drangsnes docks. Yesterday we asked about it at Malarkaffi and were told to be at the docks at 9. We’re up bright and early, and prepare ourselves for the worst seasickness in a tiny boat and rough waves, and drive to the docks – and wait. And wait, and wait. And no one shows up. So we get in the car and decide to take a ride up road #643.

It’s a beautiful drive along the coast. The beaches are full of driftwood. We stop to examine an emergency hut a bit closer. We’ve seen them scattered throughout the fjords and this seems like a good opportunity to take a peek inside. There are a few bunks but that’s about it, no gas or any type of supplies for an emergency. But I guess shelter from wind, rain or snow is enough at times.

Djúpavík is the first real stop we make. The old herring factory with the waterfall above it makes for interesting photos. We walk around the old factory, where Sigur Rós played a concert on their homeland tour of Iceland a few years back. The old docks and rusting boat are more good photo motifs. It’s a very cute village with lots of charm. We have coffee and cake at the hotel, and meet Claus who is exhibiting his photos inside the factory. He opens the exhibition for us after our coffee, and we have a look inside.

Back on the road again, we soon reach our destination for the day before turning back again – Krossneslaug. Ernesto really wants to swim, but I prefer to wait for the hotpot back in Drangsnes tonight. There’s an Icelandic man and his Thai wife renting the cottage there, and like hospitable Icelanders, they invite us in for coffee, which we kindly refuse. Later, while Ernesto is in the pool, the man comes up and strikes up a conversation, He’s a fisherman from Ísafjörður but was born in Drangsnes, and both his father and grandfather were fishermen too. He’s been to Thailand a few times and on one of his holidays, brought back a wife. This year they’re staying in Iceland like many of the natives, due to the weak currency abroad.

The trip back to Drangsnes goes quickly, and we only stop once after seeing a seal and some small whales in Reykjarfjörður. Back in Drangsnes, we check into Malarhorn since our apartment last night is full today. It’s a big holiday weekend for the Icelanders as Monday is a bank holiday and a few large campers are parked on the grass near the hotel. Ernesto sets up the portable grill and makes some tasty lamb (again). The local campers are friendly and some come up and say hi. No one speaks a lick of English, and I’m thankful that my Icelandic is getting basic conversational. After dinner, Ernesto would love to jump in the hotpot right away, but I’d like to take a walk first. We walk along the coast a bit and then up the hill behind the village, past the official campsite (which is empty) and quite a ways up Bæjarfell. Then it’s back to the hotpot, but we’re not alone this time; a Dutch couple is there, and an Icelandic man.

Ísafjörður -–> Hólmavík/Drangnes

2009-07-30T20:39:00.009+02:00

Photos: (1) Hjörgshlíðarlaug; (2-3) Fjord scenes; (4) Hólmavík; (5-6) The road to Drangsnes; (7) Drangsnes docks; (8) Hotpots at Drangsnes

The weather is dry this morning, and the clouds are much thinner than yesterday, offering a better view of Ísafjörður before we leave. It’s time to continue our journey to Hólmavík. The sky is interesting along the way and good for picture-taking. A mixture of dreary clouds and blue patches in the sky with sun makes for unique lighting conditions.

I want to call for a room on Hólmavík but my phone doesn’t have service most of the way. When we stop for lunch at a roadside picnic table, the phone is barely working so I make a few phone calls. The guesthouse in Hólmavík is full, so I call the number on a flyer I picked up and we’re in luck. We’ve got a little studio apartment named “Sunna” in Drangnes. With no worries now about accommodation, we continue the drive.

There’s a hotpot we want to check out called Hjörgshlíðarlaug. There’s no one in the pool when we arrive, it looks great, perched right on the ocean again, but the water is quite cold and certainly not very inviting.

In Hólmavík, we first visit the Museum of Sorcery. I made an attempt to get to this museum in 2006, but bad roads and weather changed my plans, so I’m glad to finally see it. It’s quite interesting if you take the time to listen to the MP3 or read the brochure that explains each exhibit. Afterwards we have coffee at café Riis and then head on to find our apartment.

The road to Drangsnes is beautiful, and the sun peeks out behind dark clouds for spectacular views. Our guesthouse is up on the hill a bit, and the key is right where the lady said it would be. The apartment is great, with a small kitchen and lots of windows, making it bright and cozy. After unpacking our things, we head straight for the hotpot, which is a 10-minute walk from the room. Again, we’re alone at this amazing spot and we swim for nearly two hours, sipping on beer. Ernesto even jumps in the ocean a few times to cool off. There are two hotpots and, according to my book, one “fish tub”. In any case, the water was a bit cooler in the fish tub, so we stayed in the hotter pots anyway. After the swim, Ernesto whips up a great dinner of lamb, potatoes and salad (surprise!). We spend a lazy evening in the room reading, although the weather is dry but cloudy.