A Midsummer's Dream, Part 2: The Westfjords

With Reyjavik as a basecamp, Sif and I travelled to many beautiful places over the summer.

When I visited two years ago, we made a roundtrip around Iceland on the ringroad #1, taking us to all the major sights along the way.



This time though, we wanted to get of the main road and see the more remote places. So as soon as Sif could get a week off work, we packed our camping gear in my little car and took off to the Westfjords in the North-West Iceland.

The Westfjords are geologically the oldest part of Iceland. They are very mountainous and the coastline is heavily indented by dozens of fjords surrounded by steep hills.
It is a land where fairies and trolls are said to dwell. Driving through this remote peninsula, it is not hard to imagine just that.

The mountains are recipe for changing weather and
beautiful cloud formations.

Gently drifing over smooth gravel roads. Following the coastline.
You can see the Snaefelsjokul glacier in the background.

Sandy beach, blue sea.
But it is definitely not warm enough to take a swim!

Though we were very fortunate with the weather,
it often gets very gloomy here.

Wondering what lies behind the next rise...

Sometimes those gravel roads are a joy to drive over and slide sideways through the corners like a rally driver. Other times, the road is almost non-existing and my old car crawls over rocks and loose gravel.

Arnarfjordur

We are on our way to a remote and now abandoned settlement where many Icelandic artists have lived at the very end of the Arnarfjordur. There was not much left of that settlement, but some ruins torn down by the merciless winds of the North Atlantic Ocean.

We continue, well actually head back on the same road. Around midnight we reach the beautiful waterfall Dynjandi. It falls down about 100 meter (330 feet) in many small stages. It is just magical to sit there and watch the water flow down.

Dynjandi waterfall

The next morning we head out to the most western part of Europe, Látrabjarg. After a long long drive over something resembling a washboard, the road goes no further. I park my car next to two big German 4x4 vehicles. The drivers look very annoyed that such a little old car has made it there over that same road.

Priceless!

This is officially the closest I have ever been to America!

Látrabjarg, the most western part of Europe.

Magnificent camping spot.

After a good night's rest, we continue our way to Isafjordur, the main 'capital' of the Westfjords.

Along the way we stop at a small fishing settlement near Bolungarvik, where time seem to have stood still for many years. It is actually a reconstruction of how the local fisherman lived in the old days.

Ósvör

Ósvör

Isafjordur is the largest town in the Westfjords, it even has an airport. It is a good place to stock up on provisions. We head over the mountain plateu on the way back to Reykjavik and find this old mountain rescue hut. You could definitely sit out a storm in this one. 

A few hundred meters away though, there was a modern bright orange one complete with radio and emergency supplies.

On the other side of the mountains, we find another beautiful camping spot, right next to the water and enjoy the midnight sun.

Midnight sun

And so ends our trip to The Westfjords of Iceland. A magnificent part of Iceland that has left it's mark in my memories.



To be continued....

A Midsummer's Dream, Part 1

In 2002, after dropping out of school, I decided to take my savings and get away for some serious off-time.

I purchased my very first car and a ticket on the ferry to Iceland.

The plan: To visit Sif and travel around Iceland for the whole summer.

That old Opel Corsa, with which I was going to have many adventures over the years, almost turned out to be a pig in a poke, with a worn camshaft and an overall sad composition.

With many thanks to my friend Bas, we fixed all the issues and prepared the car for the long journey.

The first leg to tackle was the 1000 km trip to the north of Denmark, where the Smyrill line ferry would leave for Seydisfjordur, Iceland. In later years I've driven the same distance a number of times, but no matter what you do, driving 1000 km in one go remains one hell of a liaison.

Anyways, I made it to Denmark well in time for the departure and secured my place onboard.

Being on a budget, meant that the only way to go was shared bunks... Up to 6 guys in cramped quarters, way below deck. It didn't matter, because it was an exhilarating feeling when the ship left the harbour to steam onto the North Sea.
Off to carry me towards those distant shores.

The Smyrill line ferries, being a company from the Faeroe Islands, made a stop in Thorshavn where all passengers  had to embark. The ferry would then leave for Bergen, Norway, to pick up more people and return the next day.

That leaves one with 1,5 days to spend on that magnificent group of islands halfway between Norway and Island.

Stunning scenery!

Thórshavn, The Old Town

The ferry sails between the typical Faeroese islands, on towards Iceland.

The next evening the ferry left Thorshavn again to sail Northwest toward Seydisfjordur, where we arrived the next morning. After a short visit for coffee at Sif's parents (who live in Seydisfjordur) it was finally time for the real adventure to begin. 

I had to drive to the other side of Iceland, 720 km along the south coast to Reykjavik, where Sif had a nice apartment in the main street Laugavegur.

The road went over several mountain passes and valleys of the South-east.

At some point I decided to find a place to camp, and found this fantastic and quiet campsite between the mountains and right next to a river.

Wildcamping

Only some sheep for company

'Old Swing' feels right at home

Magical place

The next day I passed Jokulsarlon, and area where pieces of ice are breaking of the glacier and flow into the sea.

The road continues...

And goes on and on...

Then finally leads to downtown Reykjavik and Sif, And I am set to spend the best part of the summer exploring this magnificent landscape and the company of a loved one.

Hallgrimskirkja, Reykjavik

To be continued!

Winter in Iceland

After that first visit, I returned to Iceland a number of times.
The next visit was a birthday present from my mom, in February of 2001.
(Thanks Mom!)
Together we went to Reykjavik for a long weekend and travelled the 'golden circle'.
A visit to the Blue Lagoon, Krusivik, Gullfoss and the Geysir. We were very fortunate with the weather and Iceland in the winter is just as magnificent.

Geothermal area Krusivik

Stora Strokkur

Me and mom waiting for the next eruption

Thingvellir,  right on the rift of the two continental plates.

During the summer of 2001, Sif Sveinsdottir locked her apartment in Reykjavik and came to Holland for the summer. It was absolutely great to have her here. She found a job, we went to some music festivals and basically spend a lot of time together.

In the train, on our way to a music festival.

Around Christmas that year, I took off three weeks to visit Sif again.
Met her wonderful family during Christmas in Seydisfjordur. Spend time with her brother and his family and celebrated the new year.

Lonely Road in a vast landscape

New Year fireworks in Reykjavik

Coming up next, the summer of 2002

The birth of the travelbug or the start of it all

I have been wondering where to start this blog.
How much detail to add and what to leave out.

Actually, the nature of my trips has changed a lot during the last 12 years.
The early years were often technical hikes into remote areas.
Finetuning my kit to be suitable for hiking in the wild mountains in Norway or the remote highlands of the Icelandic interior.
In later years the travels have increasingly become more focussed on feeling at home in the woods.
With an increasing knowledge of "Bushcraft" skills, being in the peace and solitude of Europe's last wild places has made me feel comfortable in them. And even here in this small country, there are places to feel the power of nature.

So, I will start at the beginning.
It was the year 2000, I find myself in a puddle of cold water. Through a blurring haze of noise and tremors, I began to notice a rhythm and melody. The raw screams of something wild and unearthly. Through half opened eyes I see wild shapes bowing to the black and white painted creature on the stage. I remember now. This is Dynamo Open Air at the Goffert Park. A black metal band is blasting trough the fog in my head.
I open my eyes and wake up.

Why is this the start of it all I hear you thinking?
Because sitting next to me, was a woman who would become one of my best friends.
And who would be the first to show me the beauty and power of nature.
Sif Sveinsdottir of Iceland. On a roadtrip through Europe to see metal concerts.
I'll leave the details, but at the end of that day I took her home.
The next day she had to leave to the airport for her flight to Iceland.
Not long afterwards I am finding myself on the Iceland Air flight to Kevlavik.
The following three weeks we fell in love even more and she introduced me to the magnificient Icelandic landscape.

Seljalandsfoss

We rented a car and traveled around the island. There is only one main road and there are so many beautiful things along the way.

Puffins

Endless road

Wild-camping and walking through that raw landscape.
It was during that trip, that I fell in love with being in the outdoors.

Magnificient Dettifoss

Downstream Dettifoss

Midnight sun at a beautiful campingspot

It is hard not to feel small in a landscape like this.
It was even more special to share those moments with someone dear to me.

Boiling pools of mud and a lot of other geothermic activity.

To be continued.