Tuesday August 1, 2023
It’s complete daylight in the tent when I wake up. It must have been like this for several hours.
Oh, Sisi took a picture around 00:24 last night. I’ll try to include it. You’ll know what midnight looks like here in west Iceland.
Inside my sleeping bag it’s very comfortable, but outside of it, the temperature is probably less than 10 C (55F). I hesitate but stick my arm out and check my phone. Seven o’clock. Then I think of the only two showers in the men’s bathroom and shortly I walk over the silent campground.
Less dew than yesterday, and no sun. A closed grey cloud cover makes it appear even colder. The bathroom is empty, so I enjoy a long shower.
We decide to bake pancakes for breakfast. The little kitchen is crowded - probably because it’s warm here. We sit with a Canadian girl from Saskatchwan, who is biking by herself through Iceland. Her boyfriend would be ´too far out of his comfort zone,’ she comments.
The pancakes are excellent and fully satisfied we take down the tents and load the car - which is not easy. We have a lot of gear.
Today we want to reach Patreksfjordur, farther northwest. There is a ferry across the fjord, but we’ll have to wait for 3 hours until it arrives, so we hardly save any time. And we also feel like driving a little, so we decide to go for the land route.
Google maps doesn’t like our decision, and remorselessly steers us to the ferry dock. Even when we leave the harbor it tries to tease us back. Only after we have entered an ´F-road’ (a dirt road that requires a 4-wheel drive or a 4x4) the system works again.
The landscape we enter is of generally rolling hills, interrupted by ridges of lava. Sometimes we enter lava field; boulders the size of small cars to those the size of a football and small lie like a ribbon through the land. At one point a long ribbon like a caterpillar of lava seems the result of a stream from some eruption.
We also pass fields surrounded by fences. Occasionally we pass Iceland goats that look like sheep. We don’t see any plowed or planted fields. Only pasture with many large bales of hay, covered in plastic.
The roads are not too bad. Even without asphalt they are fairly smooth.
Most of the bridges are old and narrow, made for one vehicle only.
The occasional house we pass looks well maintained. Some have a mini-chappel, a tiny place to worship. White with a red roof.
Later in the afternoon the mountains get bigger and we move from fjord to fjord, zigzagging deep into the valley until we are at the shore, then climbing back up until we have amazing views over the water inlets far below us.
At this moment we enter a thick cloud that came sliding down a mountain side. The mountain, the road, everything becomes invisible. We slow down to a snail’s pace. Time to keep our eyes open.
Now we are over the top and start our descend and dip below the clouds. Visibility is restored.
Soon we follow the winding coast under a solid lead sky.
Soon Patreksfjordur campground becomes visible in a small village at the foot of high mountains, and touching the fjord.
It’s windy and fresh when we put up the tents. Sisi cooks while Didi and I make camp. No showers here. But laundry machines. At least our clothes don’t need to smell…
In the little kitchen a man tries to cook, but horrifically burns his food. Clouds of smoke fill the small room. Despite the wind the door is opened to let the smell out. The next half our the couple try to clean the pan.
But they can’t help smiling when we wish them a good meal.
2025-02-16