Month: May 2016

I woke up pretty late. It was just mine and one other tent left at the campsite. I packed up and decided to go to Drangsnes. Some girls I had spoken to the night before (again from Quebec City) said there were outdoor secret hot-tubs hidden in the village. I was up for a hot-tub hunt.

The drive along the coastline to Drangsnes was (as expected) incredible.

There was a lot of driftwood on the beaches, and an information board along the way told me that all of it is wood that has floated over from Siberia on the Arctic Ocean.

In the olden times, a lot of wooden houses in Iceland were built using this driftwood, since there are no trees in Iceland. Also, having been floating in salt water for a while, they were weather-resistant and lasted a long time. Pretty cool!

I didn’t have to look too hard to find the hot-tubs. Sure, they were kinda hidden, but the town of Drangsnes was two roads, so it didn’t take much searching.

I was pretty happy to spend my time soaking in the tub. The view was great and the water was HOT. Excellent combination.

The tub got a little crowded after a while, and I decided it was time to make moves.

Driving into the fjords, the mountains start getting bigger and the scenery more distracting with each turn.

My map is not to scale. The roads through the fjords are much longer than they look. Moving relatively small distances on the map took a long long time. I wasn’t complaining though, the drive was serene and blissful. Almost therapeutic.

I made many many many stops. I was annoying myself with how often I would stop to take in the scenery.

The place was needless to say, isolated. There was nothing and no-one around.

I stopped in Sudavik to check out the Arctic Foxes. This guy was roaming around the fox pen.

I tried to play around with it, making some noises I think a fox would make. It didn’t respond. I even acted like I was running away from it. Nothing. Not impressed.

Whatever, I was done trying to entertain it.

I think I had seen one running across the highway a couple days back and I had thought it was a cat. Maybe it was a cat. Not sure.

I got to Isafjordur. The biggest town in the Western Fjords. I wasn’t expecting much.

The town was impressive. It had cafes, theatres, human beings walking around, cars parked. What! I had expected another isolated town.

I went to what looked like the most happening spot in town. This was awesome! They had a jukebox, people were playing video games and kids were running around.

I was a little confused though. Where did all these people come from? Was there another road into town? I had passed one car the whole drive here. Maybe they never leave this place? Or do they fly in?

After a burger, fries and a couple of rounds of Street Fighter with some kid, I was feeling pretty satisfied. The day had been perfect.

Driving to the campsite, I was blown away yet again. It was, by far, the most gorgeous setting for a campground I had ever seen.

I pitched my tent close to the waterfall.

This place was paradise. I should move here. Maybe then I’ll figure out the secret road to get here…

Hvammstangi -> Reykjavik -> Holmavik

I had noticed a few paint chips on the hood of my car in the past few days. I must have picked them up during my gravel-road drive on Rte955 through the eastern fjords.

My insurance deductible was 1500 Euros. My credit card covered the deductible, which would effectively bring my deductible down to 0, but I wasn’t happy.

I had to get them fixed.

I called up the Chevrolet car dealership in Reykjavik (the only one in Iceland). They didn’t have the paint-pen in stock. But they said if I drove in, they can point me to a paint shop that might have it. Also, they were closed on the weekends.

Looking at the map, I was ~200 kms from Reykjavik, the closest I would be before I headed out into the Western Fjords.

I decided to just do it. Drive in, pick up the paint-pen, and drive back. I had to, for my own peace of mind. It was a morning wasted, but I wouldn’t be thinking about it all week. I left around noon.

The drive was gorgeous. Definitely enjoyed it, even though I was veering off my regular course.

I made it there in the afternoon, picked up the paint-pen, ate KFC for lunch (after a week of freeze-dried food, who could resist?), and drove back. By the time I got back to where I had started from, it was 6pm.

Getting onto Rte68, I headed into the Fjords. Finally! I was only 48 hours behind schedule. Not that I have a schedule.

It was gravel roads the whole way in. Sure glad I picked up the pen.

The road leading into the fjords was isolated. I passed one car the whole way there, and maybe about 3 houses.

Apparently, only 14% of tourists to Iceland visit the West Fjords, due to their vastness and rugged setting. Not too many facilities or amenities out here.

I was exhausted by the time I got to Holmavik. 500 kms of driving was tiring. Retreating to campsite, I needed to stretch my legs out a little.

The campsite had a great view of the fjord. There were a few people there, and we made idle chitchat until we were all bored of each other.

I cooked dinner. It wasn’t a gourmet meal, but the view more than made up for it.

Akureyri -> Dalvik -> Siglufjörður -> Hofsós -> Hvammstangi

I woke up feeling baked in the tent. It was HOT. The Arctic sun can be harsh in the summer.

Packing up, I mapped out a route towards the West Fjords.

I planned to go via Dalvik and Hofsos, on the more secluded Rte76 that went around the peninsula. I figured it would be more interesting than the oft-travelled ring road Rte1.

As I got to Dalvik, I noticed a strange low-hanging grey fog rolling in from the Arctic Ocean. At first, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. So I stopped to take a better look. Strange stuff. On a clear day too. It reminded me of death-eaters from the Harry Potter books.

Dalvik has a ferry that takes you to Grimsey Island, which is in the Arctic Circle. I am a little obsessed with getting as far north as possible and camping in the Arctic Circle sounded very appealing to me.

Driving to the harbour, I inquired with the local fishermen about this ferry. They informed me that the ferry only begins on June 1st, and goes by only once a day. So I was a few days early. Damn! Maybe next time..

Driving on to Siglufjörður, which is right on the tip of the peninsula, I passed through a massive 8km single-lane tunnel. Intense. I considered for a minute what the repercussions of an earthquake at that very moment would be. Definitely not good.

When I got to Siglufjörður, the death-eater fog had taken complete control of the surroundings. Visibility was poor and got worse as you drove into the mountains.

I continued on to Hofsos. I’ve heard the road here is beautiful, but I couldn’t see much except for 10-15 feet ahead of me.

Hofsós was gorgeous. With its bare cliffs hanging over the water, fjords in the distance, and the Arctic Ocean on one side, it had me transfixed. I decided to stick around for a bit.

I headed over to the local town swimming pool. As it turns out, the swimming pool in little Hofsós (population 200) was designed by an award winning architect, and is one of the top-rated pools (and well kept secret) in the country!

Consisting of a heated pool and a hot-tub, it is built on a cliff and sticks out into the ocean and has amazing views all around as well as an infinity-pool feel to it.

I had found my own piece of paradise. I spent the rest of the evening there. I didn’t see a reason to leave. The fjords can wait till tomorrow.

Leaving after the place shut down, I drove through horse country. Endless plains of wild Icelandic horses running around.

I found this little guy cuddling up to his mom. They were cooperative enough to stay still and pose for a picture.

Death-eater fog was still hanging around.

I got to Hvammstangi, which my Lonely Planet guide suggested as the best place to camp in the area. No doubt there, well-maintained facilities and friendly hosts.

As I lay in my tent, I considered driving back to Hofsos tomorrow for another swim in the designer paradise infinity pool.

Waking up at the campsite in Akureyri, I realized I was smack-dab in the middle of the city. There were people waiting for buses, cars honking and kids walking to school. A bit different from the serene campsites of the past 2 weeks.

Akureyri is a smaller version of Reykjavik. I wound up walking around the whole city, which took the better part of my day.

There were loads of people (by Icelandic standards), it being a sunny Saturday.

After hanging around all day, eating different foods and multiple coffees, I decided to head to a campsite on the outskirts of town.

Hamrar campsite was much better. Secluded in the mountains, it had great facilities and a friendly owner. There were a lot of people out here camping too, and I met some interesting folk.

I was up till 2am reading the Elon Musk autobiography. It isn’t very interesting. And a little haphazardly written.

I woke up to pretty good weather. The wind last night wasn’t too bad, a little bit of tent-shaking, but nothing that it couldn’t handle.

I was tired from driving around a lot the past few days. I had seen a mountain biking rental store on the way to the campsite. Biking through the volcanic fields sounded like a good way to spend the day.

I mapped out a route that followed a hiking path for about 18kms. The ride started off well enough, single-track riding with some nice challenging rocks and jumps.

About 3kms in, the riding became much easier with a double-track and flat land. There were some sandy parts from the volcanic ash, but nothing too challenging. I covered major ground pretty fast.

I got to the base of Hverfjall faster than I expected. Locking up my bike, I started the hike up to the rim of the crater.

Getting to the top, there was wind. Ugh! And nothing much to see up here either. The crater was huge, but apart from walking around what looked like a big mound of black sand, not much to tell it was the site of a huge eruption 2500 years ago.

I hiked back down and decided to keep riding on. Found this guy travelling with 3 horses, which seemed even more fun than riding a bike.

Next stop was Dimmuborgir, which is a lava field that solidified to create strange rock formations and caves. I enjoyed biking around here immensely, and spent the next 2 hours doing loops around the whole park.

I explored some caves and the rock formations were kinda interesting. I was having more fun riding the bike though, and at one point I wasn’t even paying attention to the rocks. It was more fun jumping off them. Some of the other tourists seems a little disturbed by my antics, but I was zipping around too fast to hear them complain.

Last stop on my bike tour was Höfði. About 3 kms away.

This was not a biking path.

I first encountered rocks, that I had to walk up carrying the bike on my back. Then there was loose sand for about a kilometre, that I had to push the bike through. It was tough enough walking on it, let alone pushing a bike.

After a while, I had to climb back down from a hill, again through rocks carrying the bike on my shoulders.

I found a cave on the way down, which looked like it had people living in it! I yelled “HELLO”, but no one responded. I would have liked to meet a person actually living in a cave but I guess he/she wasn’t home.

More climbing, pushing and hiking with bike on back until I got to Höfði.

I was exhausted. I rode back slowly along the highway to the bike-rental store and returned the bike and got into the car.

I needed to cool off.

I drove to Jarðböðin, which is the natural bathhouse that was closed the previous day. Soaking in the silica-like water, I felt pretty relaxed. I met some people, but I don’t remember their names. Not that it mattered since I probably wouldn’t even recognize them if I saw them again.

I spent about 3 hours in there until the place closed down.

I decided to do the drive to Akureyri that night itself. Getting into the second largest city in Iceland, it suddenly felt too big and glitzy for me. I had gotten used to the village life over the past few weeks.

The wind last night was something else. Never experienced or seen anything like it before. My tent shook all night long (like that Led Zeppelin song) and I woke up multiple times wondering if the thing would tear.

I hung out in Husavik during the day. The town smells like fish. I like fish and I couldn’t handle it after a while.

Husavik is the centre of whale-watching in Iceland. I walked around a few of the tour shops, and buying into the hype, was going to take an afternoon tour.

While waiting in line to buy a ticket, I saw a video of people on a boat looking at whales and it really didn’t seem that exciting to me. I thought about it and realized, I didn’t actually care to see a whale. It seemed like the thing to do, but it wasn’t what I wanted to do.

Just as well I guess. The storm clouds moved in and all the tours were cancelled for the rest of the day.

I left around noon and drove to the Myvatn area which is a hotbed of volcanic activity.

The Hverir Geothermal Area has a strong smell of sulphur, that permeates your whole being. Your car, clothes start smelling like rotten eggs.

The wind had really picked up at this point, and walking around was getting difficult.

The terrain around the volcano looks like another planet. The ground is hot, there is steam rising up through the cracks, and boiling mud pots that look downright scary.

The wind was getting to me at this point. But I decided to power on and drove to Krafla, where you can walk right on the rim of a volcanic crater.

While walking up the crater, I saw a girl get lifted off her feet for a second by the wind. She started screaming and crying and had to be held down and carried back to the parking lot. Yep, the wind was getting that bad.

I got to the top, and hadto lean into the wind to stop myself from falling over. I walked around a bit, got this picture of the crater lake from up top.

Pebbles started flying around. A small pebble (or maybe ice) hit me right in the face. That was it, I called the whole thing off. I walked back to my car, barely making it one piece. A few more pebbles hit me, I lost my footing a couple of times from the wind and had to spider crawl down the ridge to make it to my car.

Sitting in the car, it took me about 10 minutes to recover. My car was shaking like a leaf and I decided I was done for the day. I didn’t want to do anything more.

It was only 4pm though. I drove back back down off the volcano and to the local natural geothermal bathhouse, Jarðböðin which is supposed to be the Blue Lagoon of the north. It was closed due to high winds.

Not to be deterred (and maybe having forgotten how bad the wind is), I decided to grab one more sight in before retiring for the day. I drove to Godafoss, the God of Waterfalls.

It was alright, nothing great. Kinda interesting I guess. The wind was still too much to walk around, so I retreated yet again back to the car.

I drove to the campsite, which was near Myvatn. Nice facilities, and goats to keep you company. I met a couple of guys from Bangalore at the camp kitchen. We hung out till pretty late into the night.

I pitched my tent right next to my car, strategically placed, hoping to shelter it from the wind tonight. If not, there might not be a tent tomorrow.

I wanted to camp above the 66°N latitude. I planned out my route for the day, which would bring me to camp at Raufarhöfn. This was the northernmost city in Iceland, right on the edge of the Arctic Circle.

To make it more interesting, I planned a few things to do on the way.

First stop was Vopnafjörður. Nothing happening here. Just a harbour town with a supermarket.

Next on the route was Þórshöfn. Nope, nothing happening here either. There wasn’t even a supermarket.

I was getting some weird looks from people. I guess not too many people venture up here. Definitely not brown-skinned people.

At this point I had driven 200 kms and needed to get out of the car. My book guide suggested a hike in Rauðanes near Þórshöfn. Got to the turn from the highway and…

At this point, I was in no mood to camp at Raufarhöfn. From what I could tell, there was nothing up there either. A quick look at the map showed that I could still camp above the 66°N at Husavik. And the town had a decent campground with things to do the next day.

I drove on. Passed some gorgeous beaches on the way. I stopped for lunch/dinner.

I stopped in Vesturdalur at around 10 pm to do a hike in the horseshoe shaped canyon. I needed to stretch my legs, and this was the perfect place to do so.

The canyon has some really nice paths and waterfalls. I hiked along the known paths, and along the wall of the canyon until I got to a decent vantage point.

I left at around 11pm and drove on to Husavik. Getting into the town, I was kinda relieved. After not seeing too many people all day, it was nice to see other cars at the campsite. I pitched my tent as the sun was coming up. It was windy so I really had to peg it down solid.

Going to the north of Iceland wasn’t as great as I expected. There wasn’t much there, neither scenery nor people. The sun was harsh and it was windy. Well, I had driven right upto the edge of the Arctic Circle. I guess that’s something.

And I still got to camp north of 66°.

Seyðisfjörður -> Dyrfjöll

I woke up to see a huge cruise ship docked in the port at Seyðisfjörður. The campsite owner told me that a cruise ship sails in during the summer from Denmark, and brings about 1000 tourists in every week.

I took a quick hike to the nearby falls to get my blood flowing.

Driving out, the streets looked a lot busier than anything I’ve seen in the past week since I left Reykjavik. I drove up through the mountains and out of Seyðisfjörður, which had been transformed from a quaint town to a tourist trap overnight.

These group of guys visiting from Taiwan decided they wanted to skateboard down the mountain.

The guy from last night had mentioned puffins again. That was the fifth time someone had mentioned them, I figured I should probably give these birds another chance.

He said Dyrfjöll has a whole nesting of puffins on its shores, so to Dyrfjöll it was.

The drive is very picturesque. Mother Nature was out in all her glory. The ocean is turquoise, surrounded by mountains and plains.

Getting into the town, I drove straight to the marina where the birds were supposedly nesting. There were a lot of people clamouring to get a picture of them.

If you are a bird enthusiast, this is probably the place to be. There were birds swooping around in all directions, making strange bird noises and ofcourse pooping everywhere.

After about 15 minutes, I still hadn’t seen a puffin. I asked a guy. He pointed out a whole flock of them right in front of me. What! I never was good at finding things.

I got a few shots of this guy. He had a funny coloured beak, which was kinda cool.

Puffins can fly. Disappointing. For some reason, I assumed they were like penguins. These birds were flying all over the place.

I was done with birds for the day. I drove out of the marina and drove along the coastal road until I came across a sign that marked the trailhead for a hike – Brunavik.

The sign on the board said it was a 2.5 hour hike. It was about 7pm so I figured I’d be back by 9:30pm. Awesome.

The hike seemed easy enough. Clear trail markings, not too steep. Beautiful walk in the setting sun. I had The Division Bell playing on my iPod and really enjoying the walk.

As I gained altitude, I hit snow. That was a little unnerving, but no biggie. I climbed on.

Climbing uphill in the snow was harder than I expected. The snow had an icy layer on the top, and slushy at the bottom. I could feel the wetness creep into my shoes and my socks were starting to get wet.

A little further in, I came across these 2 holes in the ice! What the hell? I guess I was walking on ice with a stream that was flowing underneath me. Not good. I walked along gingerly hoping my leg wouldn’t fall though.

The view from top of the mountain was epic! The rays of the setting sun, the mountains, the quiet and solitude made the icy hike and wet socks worthwhile.

I hiked down to the little refuge hut at the bottom, that marked the end of the hike. There seemed to a hidden beach at the end and I thought I’d eat dinner there.

At some point, I realized there was no way this was a 2.5 hour hike. It had already been 2 hours since I left the trailhead. Maybe the snow slowed me down?

I found some viking ruins on the way down. The vikings were better at plundering than building. This “dwelling” was just stones placed on top of each other.

Getting down to the hut, I opened the door hoping to find a log book, maybe some cool pictures. Instead, I found a creepy looking windowless hut that I didn’t want to step into.

 

I could have been without seeing that. It creeped me out.

I ate a dinner chilling on the hidden beach. It was serene and peaceful. I thought I saw a seal but it was just driftwood.

It was 10pm when I started back. Lucky for me, it doesn’t get dark anymore. I got to the mountain pass pretty fast, and this time it was easier knowing exactly where I was heading. I felt at peace with the world on the hike back. This was a panaroma I took at the top of the pass, right before heading back downhill.

I was clomping my way back downhill in the snow, pretty much sliding down the ice and enjoying it too. I had totally forgotten about the 2 holes in the ice that I had encountered on my way up. Before I knew it, my right leg went through the ice and I fell right in. It wasn’t a big fall, but the shock factor is what got me. Also, my right leg was completely wet. Argh!

I pretty much ran back down. My toes were freezing and I was getting cold. I got to the car at around 12:30. Looking at the trailhead marking, I realized the hike was 2.5 hours EACH WAY! Oh. That made more sense.

Great hike overall. I would rate it as easy and one of the best ones I have been on.

I went back to the campsite and pitched my tent. I saw a few puffins hanging around nearby. They saw me too. We shared a mutual disinterest in each other.

Neskaupstaður -> Seyðisfjörður

I woke up excited about the drive back up into the clouds, through the tunnel and back down into Reyðarfjörður . Skipping breakfast, I hit the road.

The drive didn’t feel as magical as it did the night before. Maybe it was the sun, or the construction workers I passed by on my way up, or maybe even that I knew what to expect. It was enjoyable, nothing special.

Driving through the major town Egilsstaðir, my road map showed a hotpot on Rte 910, which was about 50kms away. It looked pretty isolated. I imagined a hottub surrounded by mountains and waterfalls. Sounded like a good way to spend the day.

Getting to the start of the road, I was welcomed by this sign.

In these situations, it always helps to have another person to sanity-check your decision.

Driving up the road was easy enough. The road was well paved, and wide corners with guardrails. After Rte955 yesterday, this was a piece of cake.

I drove pretty high up for about 20kms. The Spark was struggling to keep up with the steep inclines.

Finally getting to the top, I was greeted by what looks like an Arctic desert. Miles and miles of nothing. Just flat land and snow.

I was a little unsure about this. But the road was clear, so I drove on.

About 15-20 kms in, Vatnajökull emerged out on the horizon. It looked massive, especially surrounded by flat land all over. At this point, I realized I was in the highlands, and I was considering turning back.

But the allure of a hot-tub in the highlands was too great to resist. And with Vatnajökull in the background? That sounded epic. I can’t turn back now.

Driving on, I saw a jeep! First car since I had passed the sign.

The couple looked like tourists, they were taking pictures. I drove over to them. I think we were both mutually glad to see each other in this wasteland.

The wife looked rattled. She asked me if I knew if this road was safe. I had no idea. I told her I just wanted to get to the hotpot in the highlands. I sold them on the idea of a hot-tub surrounded by glaciers and snow, they bought it, and we decided to drive on as a team, keeping an eye out for each other.

As we headed on, the roads got worse. More snow, and the little Spark definitely wasn’t made for this.

I decided to turn back. The couple in the jeep had gone ahead of me and there was no way for me to tell them that I was turning back. I honked a few times, but the snow absorbs all sound. Whatever, they’ll figure it out eventually.

I was kinda bummed about not getting to the hotpot, but I think getting stuck up here would have been horrible. The trek back down was about 60-80kms and I am no Hugh Glass.

As I drove back, I stopped to take some pictures. I saw the couple in the jeep heading back too. They said the road ahead was completely snowed in and impassable.

They seemed kinda upset that I had abandoned them. I didn’t bother explaining about honking and the snow absorbing sound theory I had. I don’t think it would have mattered.

That was enough excitement for me today. I drove back down out of the highlands, and up north to Seyðisfjörður, which is a beautiful town nestled between two fjords.

I soaked myself in the local swimming pool and chatted with a few locals about what life was like in a little town in Iceland.

It wasn’t a hot-tub in the highlands, but it was a pretty damn good in its own way.

Höfn -> Breiðdalsvík -> Reyðarfjörður ->Neskaupstadur

I woke up to the best weather on my trip so far. The girls (from Quebec City!) in the tent next to mine were planning their trip to Bakkafjörður in search of puffins. I had seen puffins at Vik a day earlier, I didn’t find them particularly interesting.

I hung out at the campsite all day and spoke to the campsite owner. She said she was stressed about the increasing number of tourists coming to Iceland. She was unable to handle the crowds. I thought she’d be excited about more business but she wasn’t.

I planned to drive along the Eastern Fjords today, all the way to Neskaupstadur depending on the time.

Driving in the fjords takes longer than I expected because of the treacherous winding roads. The scenery is incredible and very distracting when you are taking hairpin bends.

I could have used another driver to switch with, but instead wound up taking a lot of breaks and stops. About 5 cars passed me the whole day.

The mountains are massive. I took a picture of a freight-carrying ship sailing into one of the Fjords for scale.

There are 2 roads from Fáskrúðsfjörður to Reyðarfjörður – Rte 96 (which goes inland and skips the coastline) and Rte 955, which goes along the coastline of the fjord. I decided to take Rte 955.

About halfway in, the road turns into a crummy gravel road. The little Spark had a tough time taking uphill climbs on gravel, I stalled a few times, and heard a few huge rocks hit the undercarriage. Not a good time. I was gripping the wheel pretty hard.

I was mentally exhausted by the time I hit the town of Reyðarfjörður. Searching for the campsite, I saw that it was closed. Infact, the whole town looked closed. Where is everyone?

I guess most tourists do not leave the main ring road – Rte 1. It is very rare that someone ventures off (probably for good reason too) and so most businesses, campsites etc off the ring road close at like 4pm. The whole town had 4 houses and the lights were off.

At this point, It was ~11pm. I decided to just go to Neskaupstadur. According to my Lonely Planet guide, it was one of the bigger towns in the Eastern Fjords.

Driving to the town was a surreal experience. First, the road winds up a mountain until you get really damn high up there.

As you keep climbing, you get to the snow covered peaks of the Fjords. The road ended in this narrow single-car tunnel that goes right through a mountain.

I sat there for nearly 5 minutes, seriously considering if I want to enter or not. Well, I came this far, no point turning back now.

The tunnel is about 650m, although it felt much longer. I had an insane adrenaline rush as I zipped through as quickly as I could.

Coming out the other side was like entering into a new world. The rays of the rising sun over the Atlantic lined the mountains, there was no wind, the snow was white and beautiful and I felt pretty lucky to be here, at this time, in the present.

I descended into Neskaupstadur, what feels like a drive down from the heavens. They were playing Atom Heart Mother on the radio, which added to whole effect. Dreamy.

The campsite was empty, there was still snow on the ground, the temperature (according to the thermometer as you enter town) was -1C. I really had nothing to complain about though. Today was a good day.