It rains some kind of ooze in the morning. The webcameras that allow
you to see the road condition show just white screen
in one place.
Then again, it should get better by noon. Rain turns into
real rain.
Today I move from one accommodation to another one, from a luxury room to a hostel. The hostel is about 150 km away but driving this distance here is not an easy task. At least three times during one kilometer I have to stop for taking pictures. If I gain nothing else then at least I learn how to start a car with manual shifting.
First detour takes me to Akrari where there should be an especially weird octagonal church. It's 15 km along a gravel road. The church is nothing special and offers nothing else than a possibility to step into horse manure. This will then be done.
The next is more promising crater of Eldborg. Eldborg or hill of fire. They don't bother with names much around here. A shop is often just called the shop. In short, they have made a big hole into a giant field. To get there one has to traverse a mud field which is marketed under the heading of a lava field. Icelandic ground is very cunning. Looks like rocky ground but if you step on it then small stones sink slowly into light brown mud accompanied by serene murmur. Yes, boots look like they had been shit on after this. So there's a choice between treading on fragile vegetation or stamping in mud. Earlier tourists are of some use in showing where definitely not to step. In addition to me there are two pairs of tourists on the trail. On the site you can climb up the crater and look into it and around and enjoy the view if there would be a view. Instead of view there's unfortunately thick lightgrey cottonwool. Anyway, quite an efficient entertainment.
The basalt columns of Gerðuberg are next to the road. This is a long and high wall that clearly consists of polygonal columns. Totally uninspiring for pictures. A bus full of Chinese is brought and they dutifully take their pictures.
I eat soup. Icelandic meat soup is basically like our cabbage soup and totally useful as decent cheap lunch instead of sandwich or hamburger. I can trick the person behind the counter into speaking Icelandic.
The road goes straight through the peninsula and over a mountains pass. The cloud leaves exactly enough space for pushing through under it with a car. At places sharp teeth in powdery snow are exposed through the cloud. The surroundings are indescribable and also quite un-photographable. On the other side is cone-shaped Kirkjufell.
I reach Rif that is about in the end of the world and hopefully I've managed to shake off the Chinese. Hostel is in a old fish factory and the owner is Kári. I've seen him on internet-TV. He in turn, has studied in Tallinn acting school. Agrees to speak Icelandic. It is allowed to eat things from the fridge that were left there by previous guests and no-one comes to stay in my room today. I like the arrangements.
I'm on Snæfellsnes peninsula now where there should be an especially high concentration of trolls, elves and all kinds of spirits.
Today I move from one accommodation to another one, from a luxury room to a hostel. The hostel is about 150 km away but driving this distance here is not an easy task. At least three times during one kilometer I have to stop for taking pictures. If I gain nothing else then at least I learn how to start a car with manual shifting.
First detour takes me to Akrari where there should be an especially weird octagonal church. It's 15 km along a gravel road. The church is nothing special and offers nothing else than a possibility to step into horse manure. This will then be done.
The next is more promising crater of Eldborg. Eldborg or hill of fire. They don't bother with names much around here. A shop is often just called the shop. In short, they have made a big hole into a giant field. To get there one has to traverse a mud field which is marketed under the heading of a lava field. Icelandic ground is very cunning. Looks like rocky ground but if you step on it then small stones sink slowly into light brown mud accompanied by serene murmur. Yes, boots look like they had been shit on after this. So there's a choice between treading on fragile vegetation or stamping in mud. Earlier tourists are of some use in showing where definitely not to step. In addition to me there are two pairs of tourists on the trail. On the site you can climb up the crater and look into it and around and enjoy the view if there would be a view. Instead of view there's unfortunately thick lightgrey cottonwool. Anyway, quite an efficient entertainment.
The basalt columns of Gerðuberg are next to the road. This is a long and high wall that clearly consists of polygonal columns. Totally uninspiring for pictures. A bus full of Chinese is brought and they dutifully take their pictures.
I eat soup. Icelandic meat soup is basically like our cabbage soup and totally useful as decent cheap lunch instead of sandwich or hamburger. I can trick the person behind the counter into speaking Icelandic.
The road goes straight through the peninsula and over a mountains pass. The cloud leaves exactly enough space for pushing through under it with a car. At places sharp teeth in powdery snow are exposed through the cloud. The surroundings are indescribable and also quite un-photographable. On the other side is cone-shaped Kirkjufell.
I reach Rif that is about in the end of the world and hopefully I've managed to shake off the Chinese. Hostel is in a old fish factory and the owner is Kári. I've seen him on internet-TV. He in turn, has studied in Tallinn acting school. Agrees to speak Icelandic. It is allowed to eat things from the fridge that were left there by previous guests and no-one comes to stay in my room today. I like the arrangements.
I'm on Snæfellsnes peninsula now where there should be an especially high concentration of trolls, elves and all kinds of spirits.
Add a comment