24-26 June

[Compiled from writing over the course of 3 days] In Loftur's new apartment in Norðurmýri. I almost didn't even make it on the flight. Got to the airport 2 hours early and it was a madhouse. When I finally got my ticket they said I needed to get my seat assigned at the gate. By the time I got through security and got to the gate I was the second-to-last person to get a seat. I just got on by the skin of my teeth! A lady there with her family that wasn't so lucky fucking freaked out, literally screaming at the guy, threatening to punch him. She started making these hysterical sounds and looked like she was going to have a nervous breakdown. She eventually calmed down, but it was really disturbing. Man am I glad I made it onto the flight. I have so little time in the city here that every moment's precious. Dad & I left my house over 4 hours before my flight just to be extra safe in case we hit traffic (it was right around rush hour), but to our astonishment we hit absolutely none. We got into Boston so early that we stopped to eat at the No Name Restaurant for dinner. I'm glad it worked out, but that almost cost me my place on the flight. I don't understand why airlines overbook flights like that. So here I am back in my beloved Iceland. Feels fucking GOOD, man! I can't believe it's been a year since my last trip. That is seriously fucking with my head. Feels like just a few months ago that I left. Much to my surprise Gyða was with Loftur to pick me up at the airport. It was a nice surprise. I've been feeling really crappy lately. Really lacking energy, focus, and just feeling generally down. Hopefully that changes now that I'm here. I was hoping I'd maybe get to see a cool show while here this year. Last year I was incredibly lucky to get to see 2 bands I really wanted to see in the few days I was in the city. This year I'm in the city even less (really only 3 nights) so my hopes were severely tempered by the odds. Then about a month ago I saw a posting that the Foreign Monkeys were playing the night after I arrived. I was psyched. What luck. A couple of days ago I was on Facebook and saw Arnar from Mammút online so I asked him if they happened to be playing any shows. It was a super-longshot but it didn't hurt to ask. He said they were playing Friday night, the same show as the Foreign Monkeys. My mouth hit the floor. I could NOT believe my luck. It's part of a 3-day festival called Jónsvaka (it was destined for me!). Only problem is, I couldn't buy a ticket online, only at the venue. I was worried it was going to sell out, so I went down there yesterday to purchase one. There was no one there to help me, so I went to Kolaportið to meet my friend Sigrún who bore the most wonderful gift of a homemade lopapeysa. It's almost comically absurd, and surely a disgrace on me, that after 9 visits spanning nearly a decade, I still have never owned a lopapeysa. I've bought them as gifts for both my mother and father, but never myself. Mostly because they're not inexpensive and I guess I always had other priorities with my money, especially since on only 1 of those 9 visits were things at remotely reasonable prices here. Well, it seems my holding out paid off because now I have one that was homemade by a friend especially for me, and that is certainly much more special than a store-bought one. Awesome. She also brought me a few different types of Icelandic candies that I had not tried before. Very nice. I gave her the stuff that I brought for her and then we went to dinner at the newly-opened Hamborgarafabrikkan. I had the "Lamburger", which I'm sure you can guess was a hamburger made with lamb. It was very good. The skyrterta for desert was divine. Similar to cheesecake but made with skyr. It's not as heavy and dense as cheesecake and has more of a custard-like texture (and I'm sure is no doubt much healthier as well). She then dropped me off downtown where I again attempted to get a ticket to tonight's show. I STILL couldn't find anyone to help me despite the fact that it was 20:00 and there was a show happening that night. So, I walked up to Nýlenduvöruverzlun Hemmi Og Valdi (a very cumbersome name for a venue) where Muck were playing. The show was freakin' awesome. Way better than I expected. The diversity of the 4 bands playing couldn't have been more appealing. The first act, Markús & The Diversity Sessions, was simply one guy singing and playing electric guitar. The Heavy Experience only played 3 songs I think, but they were long songs. Reminded me a little of the more laid back Kimono stuff but without vocals. Muck were spot on, bashing out their chaotic, noisy post-hardcore. Incidentally, this is Villi's last show in Reykjavík, and Eistnaflug will be his last show with the band. The Caterpillar Men were amazing. Kinda kooky, off-the-wall, late-'60s, experimental, jammy kind of stuff. After the show I went back to Nasa and finally spoke to someone. Turns out I couldn't buy a ticket in advance but they assured me it wouldn't sell out. On the way I was spotted by Gyða who invited me to meet her at Bakkus after, where we ended the night. Got back to the apartment around 2:00. The next day we met Viktor (and his beautiful dog Mía) and got a bunch of dumpstered food from him. I wanted to get some shopping in on my last day in the city before we left, but I got up so late that by the time we got back I pretty much just had enough time to meet Sigrún before I was to meet Siggi. He met me downtown and we walked back up to his place and hung out for a few hours, had dinner, etc. A quick check of the computer and I saw that the Foreign Monkeys were playing a pre-show at Hressingarskálinn. I made it down there just in time and saw them play in the back garden. It was OK, but the sound was lacking. After a quick visit to Prikið I went over to Nasa for the show. My concerns about the show selling out turned out to be completely unnecessary. There was hardly anyone there (at first, anyway). Foreign Monkeys played first and they sounded infinitely better than before. Mammút were really good too. It was nice seeing them now that I'm intimately familiar with their material. For A Minor Reflection kinda bored me, and Agent Fresco were almost unrecognizable from last year. I don't know if they're doing mostly new material or maybe I was just drunk by then, but there seemed to be none of that crazy musicianship that I saw at Grand Rokk last summer. It just sounded like bland indie rock to me. I must have gotten quite drunk by then because I started to get a bit depressed and didn't stick around for Seabear or Ensími. On the way back to the apartment I bumped into Arnar and Kalli and they told me Loftur was at Bakkus. At first I thought they were just trying to get me to go drink with them, but I was shocked to see he was actually there. We stayed there drinking way into the night. All I really remember from that night was seeing Katrína from Mammút there and telling her how much I dig their shit, and a raucous group singalong to Grýlurnar's "Sísí". I was afraid to look at the stack of credit card receipts in my pocket the next day, but when I did, I saw that I apparently went back to Prikið as well as grabbing a couple slices at Pizza Pronto. I have no recollection of this whatsoever. Loftur and I didn't get to bed until like 8:00. Not the smartest thing in the world to do the night before you're heading off on an 11-day hiking/hitchhiking trip. We got up around noon and were on the road by 14:30. We did the same thing I did when I hitchhiked 3 years ago: took the bus to Mosfellsbær and started hitchhiking north from there. Again, just like that previous trip, the first person to pull over was going to the Þingvellir so they could only take us a tiny bit down the road to where that route diverges. It wasn't really worth it so we didn't bother. The next ride were a couple going fishing at Hraunfjarðarvatn in Snæfellsnes and they dropped us off at the northern edge of Borgarnes. Again, just like my last go at this, the third ride was the charm. However, this was no ordinary ride. After about a half hour of not having any luck, Loftur gets a call on his cell phone. It's his mother's old boyfriend. He just drove by us and noticed Loftur and he was pulled over just up the road. What's more, he was headed all the way to Akureyri, just the direction we were going. It was quite unbelievable. So that's where we are now, camping for the night. We considered going a bit further, but we're both really tired (and still a bit mossy) from last night so we just decided it would be best to call it a day. We made it a pretty respectable distance in one day. It's a shame we got such a late start. I believe we could have made it all the way to Melrakkaslétta if we started early in the morning like we should have. Oh well. What's done is done. We hit a little rain on the ride up here, but now it's gorgeous. Just wonderful. Man, am I happy to be here.

Sunday, 27 June

Holy shit. Right now is one of those amazing, wonderful, unbelievable moments. But I'll get there... We hit the road today at 8:00. Weather was gorgeous. Took us a little while to get our first ride, but it eventually came. It was a mother and daughter who took us as far as the route 85 juncture. Our next ride came so quickly I can't remember whether or not we even had time to put on our backpacks again. It was an elderly couple on their way to Hljóðaklettur. Very friendly and they dropped us off just before Ásbyrgi. We got our third ride at the 864 juncture by another really friendly guy named Árni who stopped and gave us a little tour of the fish farm he works at. He dropped us off in Kópasker, gave us his number, and said if we got stuck around here to give him a call and he'd help us out. What a fucking swell guy! After about another 45 minutes we got picked up by a Belgian family who took us all the way to Rauðinúpur, which was a little out of their way. Rauðinúpur is a cliff with 2 large stone pillars (drangar) just beside it and teeming with birds. It's also the site of a volcanic crater. It was a pretty short hike and we were back on the road in no time. The walk back to the main road felt unending. I was starting to get tired and the wind was just non-stop (ever since we entered Melrakkaslétta, actually). Thank got the weather was nice otherwise it would have been pretty miserable. A car finally came by just as we got almost back to the main road. It was a German couple and they apparently misunderstood where we said we wanted to go, because they said they weren't going that way, but they could take us the little bit to the intersection with the main road. When we got out we were incredulous when we saw them head in the direction we said we needed to go. This was not good as we were starting to get a bit dragged out, there was hardly any traffic, and we were in the middle of fucking nowhere. So we sat down and decided to have dinner, jumping up every time a car drove by. We got really comfortable and eventually started dozing off. Thank god a car came down the road beeping at sheep to get out of the way, rousing us from our somnolence, and we jumped up just in time. This was the ride we were waiting for as she took us to our destination for the night, which is where we are now: Hraunhafnartangi, basically the northernmost point on the mainland. On the short hike out here I remarked at all the driftwood lying around and how we could make a kick ass fire, which is just what we did. I'm sitting by it now getting ready to partake of that liter of vodka I brought with me. I could really go for a cigar tonight, but it's too windy. I'm exhausted but psyched to be here, and this fire is unreal. Tonight's going to be a lot colder than last night. We're literally right on the beach of the Arctic Ocean, a mere 3 km from the Arctic Circle. I'm already getting uncomfortable so I'm gonna stop writing, put on some warmer clothes, and hit the bottle!

Monday, 28 June

Oh man. I hit that bottle way too hard last night. Had a good time and slept like the dead, but I paid for it today. I was hungover and felt like shit all day. It was a real shame because it kept me from enjoying things as much as I could, and today was our last day exploring the remote Melrakkaslétta. The next 2 days are just going to be focused on reaching Bakkagerði. Loftur used our water to put out the fire and there's a noticeable lack of rivers in Melrakkaslétta for some reason. I don't remember even seeing one up until that point. So the lack of water just made my hangover even more miserable. Our first ride of the day was the Belgians again. Like us, they were headed to Rauðanes, so we all went together. The hike around the peninsula was nice and the views great, but I felt so shitty all I could think about was lying down and going to sleep. Instead of hiking further down the road immediate after, we waited by the turnoff to Rauðanes for a bit. There wasn't a single car headed in our direction and I was really struggling to not fall asleep so we got going. It was quite cold and windy, or maybe I was just more sensitive to it in my compromised condition. Took us quite a while to get a ride and when we did it was only going to the next farm a little ways down the road. Luckily we got another soon that took us all the way to Þórshöfn, where we are now. I really wanted to go all the way out Langanes to Fontur but I knew it was a virtual certainty that we wouldn't be able to given the limited time we had. After getting a little real food in us we asked around about renting a car, which was the only way we could pull it off. They gave us some guy's number but there was no answer to our repeated calls. It probably would have been too expensive anyway. We considered moving on further but it was getting late so we just decided to stay here in Þórshöfn tonight. So here I sit, sipping vodka, smoking a cigar. Loftur's lying down in the tent. I wish I felt better, and I'm not even talking about the hangover. That lack of energy I mentioned earlier is still with me. I was hoping when I got here it would subside, but it really hasn't. I just feel like I'm struggling more than I should be and it's kinda bumming me out. I'm really looking forward to feeling better tomorrow than I did today. With the exception of missing Fontur, though, everything's going very well so far. We lost the sun today, but still no rain, thank Þór. Hopefully our luck holds out. Gotta keep praying. It's getting quite cold out here, but I'm really enjoying sitting outside and having this "cigar deferred". Guess I better put on some more clothes. Góða nótt.

Tuesday, 29 June

When we got up this morning we finally got a price on the rental car: 20000 kr. Way too much. So, I begrudgingly let go of the Fontur dream. After a luxurious cup of coffee at the local gas station we hit the road. Today started out like yesterday, cool and cloudy. However, within a few hours the skies cleared and it was just lovely. It’s amazing how much better I feel when the skies are clear and the sun is shining. Cloudy weather just fills me with foreboding. It took us quite awhile to get our first ride, and when we did, it only took us a little ways down the road. It was some construction truck going to some kind of work site. It took us quite awhile to get another ride. The traffic here was really sparse. The next ride took us all the way to Bakkafjörður, a tiny town of less than 100 people. The lady suggested a short 2-hour hike out to Steintún and the lighthouse out on the end of the peninsula. I wasn't expecting much but it turned out to be very nice and totally worth it. We got a ride just outside of town and got dropped off a few kilometers away at the turn off for Bakkafjörður. Again, it took us a good amount of time to get another ride, but when we did it took us all the way to Vopnafjörður, where we are now. Today was our most challenging day yet and we didn't exactly cover a lot of ground. Still, everything's on schedule. Tomorrow we're just totally focusing on getting to Bakkagerði. If it's not much worse than today it shouldn't be a problem. We did quite a bit of walking today. A good 8-hours-worth we reckon, and we're suitably tired. We decided to treat ourselves to a nice meal here in town. We set up camp and walked into town. The only thing we found open was the Hótel Tangi. The warmth and aroma of food when we walked in was intoxicating. I felt like splurging a little and got the file of cod in creme leek sauce, potatoes, and salad. Loftur opted for the more economic, but very satisfying, cheeseburger and fries. It totally hit the spot and was wonderful. After dinner Loftur went back up to the campsite and I stayed here at the hotel to write. Luckily they didn't kick me out as I don't think I would have been able to write at the campsite. It was quite cold and windy when we were setting up the tent and I can only imagine it's going to get worse the later it gets. I'm a little concerned about the forecast. We're supposed to have decent weather tomorrow, but I just saw the forecast on the TV here a few minutes ago and it looked like they were predicting rain every day after that. God, I hope not. I truly dread the rain. Never really had to seriously deal with the rain while camping but I imagine it to be absolutely miserable. We'll see, I guess. On a lighter note, I felt SO much better today with the hangover gone. Man did I learn my lesson on that one. Well, I should be getting back. I'm not really looking forward to tonight. I just have this feeling it's going to be really cold, and this hotel is so comfortable and inviting. Oh well, gotta go.

Wednesday, 30 June

Can't write long because I'm in the tent and uncomfortable. Today went well. Got a ride right outside Vopnafjörður all the way to Egilsstaður. While getting a coffee, I joked to Loftur about Viktor and Siggi showing up while we were there, and moments later they actually did! It was too funny. We hung out with them for a little while. They found a dumpster and got some kick ass green pesto and fruit juice. We of course had to split up again so Loftur and I left first. I joked again about them getting a ride first and passing us, and sure enough, they did! Haha. They were only dropped off a few kilometers ahead, though. I was worried about this stretch of road because I thought, how many people are actually going to Bakkagerði, where the road ends? Unlike a lot of the other sections of the road we've traveled thus far, you have the potential for people passing through. This was like a dead end that ended in a very small town. I was stunned when there turned out to be loads of traffic. Only problem was NO ONE was stopping for us. It was strange. Turns out there's a lot of farms and junk along the way, so that's where people were going. We eventually did get a ride after quite some time, but it only took us a few kilometers down the road, funnily enough again, right where Viktor and Siggi were. This time we stayed behind and let them get ahead. What happened next was quite extraordinary. It took us another probably couple hours to get a ride. There were two cars in succession. The first one started to slow down as if it was going to pick us up, but drove a little too far. The second car did stop for us, though. They were going all the way to Bakkagerði. Score! Turns out the two cars were together, and the one in front ended up picking up Viktor and Siggi (and Mía, of course), so we all arrived in Bakkagerði together! Incredible! We left 5 days previous, they 3, traveling nearly 1000 kilometers (they over 700) separately all the way across the country. The odds that we would arrive at our destination together must be astronomical. We were worried about making it there within a day or two of each other. Another funny thing that happened when we arrived is that at the entrance to the campsite there was a "no dogs" sign. Now, maybe I've never noticed before because I've never had a dog with me, but in the dozen-or-so campsites I've stayed at in Iceland, this is the first time I've ever seen this, and this was of course the first time I was with a dog. Luckily no one said anything about it, at least as far as I know. I gotta say that the town of Bakkagerði and the whole surroundings are just absolutely gorgeous. I wasn't expecting that at all. I was just expecting another small Icelandic villiage. I can't put it any better than Loftur did when he called it "thoroughly enchanting". The fact that Emilíana Torrini grew up here just sets my heart even more aflutter. We set up camp, had dinner, and walked around the town just soaking it in. When pulling out my camera on the cliffs in the harbor, it got caught on the edge of my pocket and flew from my hand. It came within a mere couple INCHES of the edge of the cliff. If I believed in angels or such things I would swear divine intervention stopped it from going over. With my heart in my throat I gingerly retrieved it, vowing to be more careful in the future. As we finished walking around town and were making our way back to our tents, the dreaded rain came. Here we go. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous about this hike. Everyone we talk to says how bad the weather's gonna be. Fuck. This could be an absolute nightmare. Maybe I'm just worrying too much as usual. We'll see I guess. So, that's why I'm in the tent now, because of the rain. Loftur's in here with me reading. It’s cramped, uncomfortable, and smelly. I'm finishing off the bottle of vodka I brought with me right now. It should've lasted longer, but my little binge at Hraunhafnartangi fucked that up. I had to buy another bottle at Vínbúð in Egilsstaður. Cost a fucking fortune. Again, so stupid. Well, I guess that's all. Hopefully things go OK going forward. Night.

Thursday, 1 July

OK, so we got up, had breakfast, and packed up our soaking wet tents. Loftur and I went for a quick cup of coffee before setting out and checked in at Fjarðarborg for trail info. Rain was still in the forecast but the guy there said we should be fine. I was in better spirits as we set out than I was the night before. Took us over an hour to get to the start of the trail, and the beginning of the hike was agreeable enough. Quite enjoyable, even. There was some light rain/fog/clouds, but nothing too bad. We had great views of Brúnavík during the first third of the hike. As soon as we got to the top of Súluskarð things went downhill, literally and figuratively. It started raining hard, and never fucking stopped. The remaining 3 hours walking to Breiðavík were sheer misery. This is what I've been dreading since I started hiking 3 years ago. I guess I've been lucky to have avoided this for so long. Now that I'm experiencing it, though, I can honestly say it's every bit as bad as I thought it would be. Within an hour we were soaked to the skin, cold, sweating, huffing up steep slopes in the wind and pouring rain. Within a couple hours our boots were filled with water. In the heavy fog we accidentally started heading down into Hvalvík. It wasn't very far, but in this mess every moment was torture. As these miserable moments dragged on I began to wonder if I didn't see a road leading to Breiðavík on the map, and if so, if I couldn't get a ride out of this place, extracting myself from this horrible situation. The thought of pitching a tent in this, climbing into my sleeping bag soaking wet, and basically staying there for the next 14-hours-or-so was nearly unthinkable. When we got within site of our destination I could see buildings. A little flicker of hope bubbled up in me. Chances are that at least we might be able to hang up some of our stuff to dry during the night while we slept. At this point I was long past walking gingerly in light of my blisters. Getting out of this rain as soon as fucking possible became the overwhelming priority. We got to the house here (which turned out to be an FÍ hut) around 17:30. They told us we could stay for 4200 kr each, then dropped the price to 2500 in light of the wretched conditions outside. I took it without hesitation, and the relief was enormous. Viktor and Siggi took the deal too. They let Mía sleep out in one of the drying sheds. Loftur, to my utter astonishment declined, and is out there in my tent right now. Unbelievable. He at least got to hang around inside for awhile and dry off some. The rain hasn't abated one bit. In fact, by the sound of it, it may have gotten worse. I can't believe Loftur chose to sleep outside in this. Dude's tougher than me!

Friday, 2 July

Today was much better than yesterday, but still not good. It was lightly raining when we left Breiðavík but tapered off not much later. As we got into the valley things looked like they might clear up, but fog kept rolling in. We got a few nice views but nothing too spectacular. The jewel of this region, Hvítserkur, was completely obscured by clouds the whole way. It was mostly just trudging along. We weren't even on trails. We just followed the road out to where it met the road coming here, to Húsavík. As we got near it started lightly raining again. We arrived here to find a carbon copy of the hut in Breiðavík, but unlike there, there was nobody here except the two German girls who we met the night before. They are also hiking to Seyðisfjörður. Last night the hut was filled with a large group from the Netherlands. We set up camp, hung up some of our stuff to dry in the drying shed, then came in to relax. While we were here, the guard came by and said we could spend the night in the hut and just pay the camping fee. He also let Mía stay inside. Awesome! So now we're just all hanging out in the warm, dry hut. Outside is an impenetrable fog. We got a brief view of the bay when we arrived but now we can't see anything. As happy as I am that today wasn't a repeat of yesterday, this still sucks. The only reason I do this is to see the scenery. This weather totally nullifies that. The rain just adds physical misery to the disappointment. Again, right now I'm just glad not to be out walking or tenting in the pouring rain.

Saturday, 3 July

Ugh!!! Today was worse than Thursday! It rained, poured, nonstop. The whole fucking way. Relentless, driving rain and occasional gusty winds. My boots were filled with water an hour after setting out. I didn't put on my ankle shields because we were going to be following the road again all day and wouldn't be walking through wet grass and such. I'm not sure how much they would've helped anyway. Within an hour I was soaked through and through and utterly miserable. Fortunately it was only 12 kilometers, which we covered in something like 4 hours. It was so unpleasant, though, that it felt more like 8. When we finally got to Loðmundarfjörður we came upon this house and I cried hallelujah thinking we had made it to the hut here, but in fact it was just some summer house or something. The hut was so new (just built last year) that it wasn't on the map. It took us about another hour and some guess work to locate it (would it fucking kill them to put up a little sign by the road??) When we finally did find it, my relief, again, cannot be overstated. All I could think about the whole way was stripping off all of my soaking wet, cold clothes, drying off, and warming up. I felt like a soldier marching down that muddy, rutted dirt road, boots filled to capacity with cold rain water, just trudging forward with singular purpose of getting this misery over with as soon as possible. It's amazing how much the iota of pleasure/distraction/comfort of something as simple as sucking on a piece of hard candy can count for under such conditions. The warden here actually drove a little ways out to meet us. I guess the lady at Húsavík radioed that we were coming so he wanted to make sure we found the place. Again, I was so relieved, believing that we might not be able to find the place in all the fog and end up having to just pitch camp somewhere soaking wet after wandering around for a few more hours blindly looking for it. The spanking new hut was truly a heavenly sanctuary. We've been relaxing here for hours now. Siggi's playing cards with the Germans, Loftur's reading, and Viktor just lit a candle for me. The forecast calls for tomorrow to clear up, then rain returns with a vengeance on Monday. I'm really counting on tomorrow being clear because we have an 18 kilometer hike to Seyðisfjörður and I really don't think I have it in me do that in the rain. Seyðisfjörður is a proper town so from there we can easily just bail out of this hike if the forecast stays bad, which I'm almost sure is what's going to happen. I guess we'll see. What a disappointment.

Monday, 5 July

We woke up Sunday morning and took our time. We were told that the weather wasn't going to clear up until around noonish, but it actually cleared up much earlier. Joy joy joy! We set out around noon under glorious weather, and to my unending pleasure, it stayed that way the whole rest of the day. Took us about 8½ hours to reach Seyðisfjörður and the sights were just amazing, especially coming down in to Seyðisfjörður. I had been here 4 years ago, but it was all foggy and I couldn't see shit. It was wonderful to come down from the mountains and see all of it slowly reveal itself in the brilliant, golden sunlight. I was so happy. After we got into town and set up camp we came to this bistro for some real food and some incredibly good Víking beer. Loftur got the fish soup and Siggi & I shared a delicious pizza. It was wonderful. While here we checked the weather. Bad fucking news. Rain was coming the next day and for every day thereafter. So our last faint shred of hope that we might get lucky and be able to finish the hike after all was dashed. Not only that, but that meant that all of Eistnaflug would be rainy as well, an equally disappointing and depressing situation. That's still 3-4 days off, so you never know, but it's just not looking good at all right now. What a fucking disappointment. I feel like I'm paying for the wonderfulness of last year's trip. I guess I should be grateful for the favorable conditions we had hitchhiking and yesterday, as well as the little windows of not-absolutely-terrible weather on Thursday and Friday. Can't have it all, right? Well, I did last year, but that was just too improbable to happen twice. Lightning in a bottle. So, we're in Seyðisfjörður now. I guess we're going to be here for a few days. Today we woke up, saw Siggi & Viktor off (they're hitchhiking back to Reykjavík from here), and came here to this café for a cup of coffee. We plan on going for a swim later, which will be a perfect way to wash off, in my case, 4 days of filth, and in Loftur's case, 9. That hot pot is going to feel good to our aching muscles. There are worse places to be "stuck" than Seyðisfjörður. It's really a wonderful little town, but I'd so much rather be hiking to Mjóifjörður today under clear skies, then arriving victoriously in Neskaupstaður, primed and ready to let loose with copious amounts of alcohol and live music. Now it looks like we'll come slinking in like drowned rats, begging for a ride, only to suffer more rain and cold there. I'm not even sure how that's going to work, really. If I try to imagine what occurred last year under rainy conditions, it would just fucking ruin the whole experience. Man, I fucking hate this weather.

Monday, 5 July

Shortly after posting a status bitching about the weather on Facebook, I checked the forecast online. I was shocked to see that it no longer called for rain, just cloudiness. I showed Loftur and he was stunned as well. A glimmer of hope flashed in me. Maybe we could do this after all. This updated forecast now called for the rain to start late Tuesday. If that was the case, and we really hoofed it and didn't take our time, we could pull it off. I, however, didn't really trust this forecast, and I didn't want to take the chance of getting caught in a rainstorm and fog on these two hardest sections of the hike with considerable portions without the benefit of a marked way. We never got the rain that was predicted today apart from a little light drizzle, but that low, dense fog persisted. Ascending hundreds of meters into that visibility-devouring soup was not something I was comfortable doing. So, again, hope was crushed. So we just bummed around Seyðisfjörður all day. With literally nothing to do, I began to experience a strange, unfamiliar feeling I'm not used to feeling in Iceland: boredom. I've just spent a few hours alone in the tent reading and eating "dinner". As I opened a granola bar wrapper this wave of familiarity washed over me. I was reminded of the numerous times I sat at my kitchen table and opened one of these, and all the minutiae of being back home flooded my consciousness, and all the subtle discontent that goes along with it. It didn't exactly make me glad to be in this situation, but it just put it in perspective, I guess, and made me a little happier. Yeah, things aren't working out the way I had hoped, but I'm in a place I love dearly and have had many magnificent experiences. The rest of this trip may very well suck in a lot of ways because of the motherfucking cocksucking weather, but I'm pretty sure it'll also be great and fulfilling and special in a lot of ways. Sometimes the more adverse and inconvenient the experiences are, the more memorable and even gratifying they turn out to be. So I'll try not to dwell on all that I'm missing out on and try to focus on what other, unexpected things are on offer. I take comfort at least in the knowledge that I will no longer have to trudge for hours on end, soaking wet and freezing cold. However, we do have to start hitchhiking to Neskaupstaður tomorrow. If we do in fact get rain that could prove a problem. I imagine prospective rides will be less likely to pick up two soaking wet people in their cars. Either that or they'll take pity on us and it'll be easier. Who knows? Let's hope the forecast is right. And let's hope the "rain" forecasted for Eistnaflug turns out to be nothing more than the drizzly stuff we got today. Otherwise it could be a real wash.

Wednesday, 7 July

We got to Neskaupstaður surprisingly fast yesterday...in about 2½ hours over the course of 3 rides. When we got here the skies were clearing, so we set up our tent (first ones!) and went for a short hike out to Páskahellir and Hundsvík. By the time we got back the clouds were moving in and it started to drizzle, so we walked downtown and got a drink at Egilsbúð and watched the Netherlands beat Uruguay 3-2 in a World Cup match. Then we went to Solveig's place with Dagur and drank there until the rest of the Muck guys rode into town around 23:00. They picked up Loftur and went up to the campsite to set up their tents. I stayed for another hour-or-so drinking and listening to Black Sabbath's "Volume 4". Afterward, Dagur was going to accompany me up to the campsite to hang out with the Muck guys, but by that time the rain was really coming down, and he only got a few steps before thinking better of it and said he was just going to stay there for the night. I wish I asked to stay as well because by the time I reached the campsite I was soaking wet (it takes a solid half-hour to walk up to the campsite from the center of town). Loftur wasn't in the tent when I got back (he ended up staying with Indriði) so I just crawled into my bag wet and miserable. The rain really turned into a storm and raged throughout the night. Fierce wind and pouring rain. It was awful and I didn't really sleep as far as I could tell. Amazingly, however, the inside of the tent stayed miraculously dry. The others in their cheap Eistnaflug tents (no one brings high-quality tents to the festival because they will inevitable get trashed in the ensuing nights of partying) didn't fare so well and got soaked. Loftur said he still managed to sleep, though, which I find amazing. He came by my tent sometime this morning to ask me if I wanted to go into town for a swim. The storm was still raging, though, and I couldn't bear the thought of getting up, putting on my soaking wet raincoat, and walking 30 minutes again through that shit, so I declined. I just stayed in the tent until the rain stopped around 11:00-or-so. Had a little something to eat and walked downtown. The Muck guys passed me on their way back up to the campsite and told me they found a place to stay down by the club for 1500 kr a night. After some coffee at Egilsbúð we went back up to the campsite to collect all our wet shit and came back here to the lovely, dry place where we're spending the night. Probably all the nights. What a fucking godsend this place is. What luck, too, because last year this used to be a bar, so this wouldn't have even been possible. It'll be interesting to see what happens with all the people who have to camp out in this shit if it doesn't clear up. I ran into Stebbi this morning (the festival's organizer) and he says it's just supposed to get better and better from here on, but I was also told tonight's supposed to be worse than last night. Who the fuck knows? It's just started raining again in the past hour. All I know is I'm so glad to be in here right now. I don't really know how I'd deal with this once the festival gets into full swing. In addition to the paramount benefit of a dry place to sleep, this place also offers the convenience of being only like a couple minute's walk to the club instead of the ridiculous 30 minutes the campsite is. Even in the great weather we had last year that was still annoying. So right now most everyone is just crashed out here sleeping off last night's misery. I don't know what it's gonna end up like in here. There's only like 6 of us here now, but there's room for a lot more, and I'm sure once word gets out about this place it's gonna get filled to the rafters and be a madhouse. Right now I’m just enjoying this calm before the storm. The actual festival starts tomorrow so the vast majority of people will be arriving in the next few hours. There's supposed to be considerably more people this year than last. They've cleared more ground at the campsite, basically doubling its capacity. Again, should be interesting. I really want to get washed up and change out of these hiking clothes once and for all (Indriði brought my suitcase with him) but the only place to do that is the swimming pool. That's fine. It'll be nice to relax in the hot pot as well. I say it again, thank god for this place!!

Thursday, 8 July

Weather's still crappy. It's totally changing the whole feel of the festival. It starts today, but it doesn't really feel like it's here. Everything feels muted by this weather. I haven't even been up to the campsite since we took our stuff down so I have no idea how many people are here. This place filled up last night as I knew it would. Got really wasted last night on landi (Icelandic moonshine) and vodka. Looking at my pictures it appears we went back to Solveig's place last night, but I have no recollection of that whatsoever. Man, I wish this fucking weather would clear up. It's such a bummer.

Tuesday, 13 July

Oh man, got a lot of catching up to do. Currently on the flight home. Much like last year, the festival was 3 days of pummeling bands and blackout drinking. The weather never cleared up to the point of clear skies (except for brief moments here and there), but it at least stopped raining for the most part once the festival started, so that was an improvement. However, the lack of proper good weather and the fact that we stayed at the boarding house the whole time and never ended up staying at the campsite really changed the whole feel of the festival. It just didn't have that living, breathing feel of last year. Everything seemed taken down a notch. Even though we weren't staying there, I went up to the campsite every night because the vast majority of people WERE up there and of course that's where all the action should be,. So I trudged up there to the soaking wet, sodden campsite with my bottle of brennivín and some beers expecting to find some real activity, but the place was disappointingly dead. I just passed the night with some random strangers in a decidedly unspectacular fashion. The 2nd night I basically spent with Alexandra and company. We reminisced some about last year, including a car-blared repeat play of "Goodbye Horses" accompanied by a little mid-street dance party. From what I can recall, I spent the whole night hanging around with her late into the morning hours, finishing off the precious brennivín and several more beers and god knows what else. I don't remember too much from that night. I distinctly remember walking back to town a different way, which led me to getting lost. Only when someone's REALLY fucked up can they get lost in a town like Neskaupstaður. By the time I stumbled on to the familiar main street I was way down near the opposite end of town, requiring another maybe 15-30 minutes of drunken stumbling in my soaking wet sneakers that were falling off my feet like slippers. It was not one of my proudest moments. According to the camera record, I got to bed around 7:30. The next and final night started at Bjarni's tent where I was promptly offered to trade one of my beers for a bottle of tequila by this guy who was insanely wasted. In hindsight it may have been a bad move as I think this destroyed any chance of me pacing my alcohol intake and, looking at my photos, I don't remember the last 4 hours-or-so I was apparently up. According to the photo record (I'm surprisingly mindful of taking a picture right as I'm about to crash for the night) I fell asleep in some stranger's tent around 9:00. Woke up in a panic about 3 hours later, realizing that I more than likely missed my ride with Ægir back to Reykjavík (I forget now what time he said he was leaving but I think it was maybe around 8 or 9). Loftur was riding back with his bandmates in the spot vacated by Villi, who flew back from Egilsstaðir on Saturday. I was left with no other option but to hitchhike alone, all the way across the country back to Reykjavík. I found the prospect daunting and it made me not a little uneasy, but my boozy afterglow also gave me a strange perseverance, a sense of acceptance, and a feeling that everything would be OK. I had all my camping stuff, so if it came down to it, I could just make camp if I really got stuck. One thing in my favor, anyway, was that the weather was fine, and I thought with all the traffic returning from the festival, going in the exact same direction I was, it'd be easier than would otherwise be the case. That proved exactly to be the case, thank god. Made the trip in 8 rides and approximately 12 hours. Got picked up soon in Neskaupstaður and dropped off in Eskifjörður. Then got picked up not far out of town and dropped off in Reyðarfjörður. Really nice people who invited me to their place, but I didn't have the time. Got picked up again in no time by a family and dropped off in Fáskrúðsfjörður. It took me a little while to get another ride. While walking down the road on the opposite side of the fjord from the town, I was really moved. Got a bit introspective and was a little disbelieving of where I was and what I was doing. I eventually got a ride by these 2 young guys coming from the festival. They said they were going to Höfn. They hardly talked but they played good music. After a quick stop in Stöðvarfjörður for something to drink we were on our way. I was in a rather weird frame of mind as we drove unspeaking down those winding roads, endlessly in and out of fjords, and drifted in and out of semi-sleep. They dropped me off in Höfn and it started raining a little. Luckily it didn't amount to anything. The next ride I got was them again. They said there was nothing going on in Höfn so they were just gonna head home, to Hella. They made a pit stop, though, at the Fosshotel at Skaftafell, to watch the end of the final match of the World Cup. I underestimated how long it would take so I went with them. I regretted that decision as time dragged on and on and on. The score was 0-0 until the end of the game, so they extended 15 minutes. Still 0-0, so they extended another 15 minutes. FINALLY, Spain scored a goal and beat the Netherlands. It was so fucking boring I could hardly stand it. We finally got back on the road after like an hour-and-a-half or something, made a quick stop in Kirkjubæjarklaustur, then non-stop to Hella. I was looking forward to driving by Eyjafjallajökull to see some of the aftermath of the eruption. Much to my surprise, there was nothing. No ash, nothing. It was as if nothing happened. Weird. Guess all that rain they've been getting has washed it away, at least to the point where you can't see it from the main road. They dropped me off in Hella around midnight. I wasn't too far from my destination, but I wondered how much traffic there would be this late at night and prepared myself for the possibility of spending the night in my tent somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Got picked at the turnoff to Þykkvibær and dropped off just a tiny bit down the road. The next ride took me to Selfoss. Then, finally, a ride all the way to Reykjavík. They dropped me off at the top of Snorrabraut and I walked from there to Loftur's place. When I got there, around 2:00, I was sure he must be there, but maybe he was totally crashed out because there was no answer. I hadn't really eaten anything all day, so, famished, I ate the lion's share of my remaining hiking food while periodically ringing his buzzer thinking it would eventually wake him. After this didn't work, I realized I would have to find a way to call him. So I walked towards midtown and sheepishly asked the first people I ran into if I could please use their phone. They were heart-warmingly accommodating. When I got ahold of him, Loftur told me he was about ha half-hour away. I couldn't believe I beat him back. Turns out he left Neskaupstaður considerably later than me because they had to load their instruments to be shipped separately back to the city. I met him back at the apartment when they arrived. Arnar was with him to crash with us for the night. They promptly informed me of an incident that had occurred the previous night (or you might say earlier that morning). A girl, apparently one that we had been hanging out with just shortly before, went for a walk out past the town and fell off a cliff to her death. I was aghast. They described her to me and told me her name, but I had no recollection of her. I quickly checked all the pictures of the random strangers I/we partied with that night, but unfortunately she wasn't in any of them. Actually, it's probably fortunate that she wasn't because if I had a face, much less a memory, to attach to this tragedy it would have disturbed me even more than it did, and this news disturbed me in a strangely deep and frightening way. I think it has something to do with the profound gravitas I impart to the Icelandic landscape. As much as I exalt and admire every craggy cliff and odd outcrop, I also often have the sense of dread at the nightmarish possibility of a misstep, or an unfortunate shifting of the rocks beneath me that would send me plummeting to a horrific death. The fact that this exact thing happened to this poor young (only 20) girl really makes me sick to my stomach. I had a hard time sleeping that night as I repeatedly thought what it must have felt like for her. The terror, the hopelessness, and the potential pain if she didn't die instantly. Much to my surprise, the guys wanted to watch a movie before going to bed, a Woody Allen movie called Hollywood Ending. A movie that couldn't have been further in tone from the dark place that my mind was in at the time. Maybe that's why they wanted to watch it? To maybe make themselves feel a little better? I don't know. We ended up going to bed sometime after 4:00. I wanted to get up early the next day (or should I say, that day) because it was my last full day in the country and there was so much I wanted to do. I ended up spending the day with Ásta, a friend I met online nearly 4 years ago, who was always away in Denmark when I happened to be in the country. She made some pizzas from scratch that were divine, even sending me off with a few slices for later. The following day, I only had a couple hours to cram in all my record shopping before having to leave for the airport. I did surprisingly well given the time constraints and even managed to pick up another one of those delicious liquorice frappes. Ran back to Loftur's, got packed up in no time, and we were on the road at 14:30. As we were driving out of the city, we talked about how much fun we had hitchhiking and how he plans to definitely do it again. I said something about how I don't know how it would be in the rain, though. Just as we were done talking about it, there was a hitchhiker on the side of the road (and, incidentally, it was also raining!) so we picked that fucker up! Haha. He was going to Keflavík, but not the airport. We dropped him off and then Loftur dropped me off. I thanked him for everything and we said our goodbyes. I picked up a liter of brennivín and some gammeldags lakrids at the duty free. So, reflecting on this trip, it was quite good. If not for the rain, it would have been great. Nowhere near last year's trip, I believe, but still great.