We woke early, packed the tent, and were ready and waiting as the bus arrived to take us to Landmannalaugar. One last glance at the updated forecast posted at the park reception, and we decided not to get on the bus...so much for making plans. I felt a pang of panic as the bus left without us (the point of no return), but excited for the bus coming in 30 minutes, continuing our journey east to the glacier lagoon at Jökulsárlón. We decided to go and cross our fingers that we could make our way back to Reykjavik in time for our departure flight. We still had a few days, but the further we pressed the tougher it would be to connect transportation across the island. We seemed to have a slightly better chance of avoiding storms and so we chased the hope of sunshine.
The bus took us as far as the lagoon, only about half an hour from the campground. We walked the black gravel shore along the lagoon, marveling at the blue icebergs glowing through the fog and rain.
Finally, cold and soaked through, we stopped in the cafe, drank more coffee, ate soup and spoonfuls of peanut butter, and huddled as close to the heater as we could. When we had dried just enough to face the rain again, we schlepped out to the roadside and stuck up our thumbs. Within just 3 minutes a man from Reykjavik pulled over to give us a lift. We were all headed toward Egilsstaðir, the next major town about 4.5 hours drive north and east. As we rode, we learned that he was making the trip to meet his family in the smaller town of Seyðisfjörður, a bit further, which was where we were hoping to arrive by the end of the day to begin a hike through the east fjords. He seemed happy for the company, and we were grateful for the ride as we wound our way north to our mutual destination while the radio played CCR, Who'll Stop the Rain.
We made three brief stops, one to take a photo of the coastline, another to help push a car that had gone off the road, and a final stop for snacks in Djúpivogur. We hung on every word he told us about life in Iceland, the strong people, the politics, the emphasis on education, the geology, the history, and a respect for life. He expressed an appreciation for toughness, that seemed to be shared throughout the island and noticeable in the kindness of people towards one another and nature, helping whenever it is needed and being careful where one steps not to crush anything underfoot that is working hard, just to be alive.
Our ride together ended in Seyðisfjörður, where he left us at the Hotel Aldan to enjoy a coffee on the lawn. We picked up a few provisions at the grocery across the street, made a loop through the town as it was preparing for a music festival, and took advantage of the drier weather to start the walk down the road.
We were starting the Víknaslóðir (trails of the deserted inlets), a 74 kilometer hike from Seyðisfjörður to Borgarfjörður typically divided into four stages, but we didn't have that many days, so we could use a little head-start to cover the distance. The road out of town carried us almost 2 hours before beginning the first climb of the hike. We went a short ways up the slope and made our camp on a flat-ish shelf by sheep and streams. Tomorrow would be a long day of hiking (hoping to cover 30km), but we were in a good position for an early start (and it wasn't raining!).
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| Vatnajökulsþjóðgarðs - Jökulsárlón - Seyðisfjörður |
