Stage 10: Blöndulón lake - Hveravellir |
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The wind is very strong and from the southeast next day. It is also overcast and thus a lot colder than it was yesterday. The road follows the lakeside but this does not necessarily means it is flat. After a few kilometres the road goes up very steeply. At first we assume it is just another small hill to climb but it turns out to be a staged climb to a major viewpoint. The view over the Blöndulón lake is indeed stunning though Susann who has been behind us for most of the distance so far does not really enjoy it. According to Hausie she is just in a bad mood today, which I can imagine considering the annoying head winds. The road goes down again to the lakeside before leaving the lake at its south side. We are passing through a shallow valley now where the road is very slowly climbing upstream a nearly dried out river. We’re not going any faster than 10-12 kph and even at this speed I cannot follow Hausie anymore, especially on the softer parts of the road.
We decide to have lunch here. The smell in the hut is too much to go and stay inside but outside we have at least shelter against the wind. After a couple of minutes a small white Japanese car stops and the woman inside shouts “Hey, can I help you?” to us with a distinct American accent. Well, in fact she can hardly help herself because she has little food with here and only beer to drink. So I friendly decline her offer and the woman explains she had seen Susann struggling with the wind too. That is good news because now we know she is at least still making progress. “By the way”, the woman asks while she unfolds a general road map, “can you tell me where I am?” I have a quick look at the map, point out the red dot on the map and explain this is the emergency shelter we’re currently at. “Thanks, I already wondered what those red dots were” is here reply. Few times I’ve seen so much ignorance and I haven’t even told here there is a large river further on that must be crossed by a ford. It is probably too deep for here small car, but that is up to her to find out. A few minutes later Susann passes without greeting or any other sign that she actually notices as and I’m getting to agree with Hausie that she’s in a bad mood today. However, he assures me not to bother about it. The plain we cross is not as flat as it seemed from a distance; there are some rivers to cross that have eroded nasty deep gullies in the land. Finally we reach the crossing of the river Seyðisá and to my surprise and relieve the river has been bridged. That at least saves us wet feet. Next to the bridge Susann has stopped for lunch but she waves us to go on and so we do. Up till now the road was in perfect condition but at a few hundred metres after the bridge that suddenly changes. Large stones and soft sand with 10 kilometres to go to the campground now form the road surface. My first thought is that it’ll be just a short section like this, but when I reach a lower summit I see and endless moonlike grey stone desert in front of me and I know the worst is yet to come. A short but eerie descent follows to the next river. The road has slightly turned and now the wind blows cross over the road. Hausie is definitely faster than I am on this rough surface and though I cannot see him anymore a small dust plume several hundred metres in front of me give me an idea of where he is.
In the middle of nowhere the road splits and there is an actual road sign. Hausie waits here for me and we turn right for the last two kilometres. The road climbs once more, but not as long as it looks like from the crossing. The final kilometre is going to the small but green oasis of Hveravellir. It is not a village, just a backpacker’s hut, a small campground with toilets, cold (tap)water and some hot water springs. And not to forget: the tourist buses that pass here every hour or so to visit the hot water springs. One of those springs has been turned into a large bath (or small pool) and after pitching my tent I decide to plunge in. It is 6 o’clock now and during the last hour the clouds have disappeared making it great weather. The pool is sheltered from the wind and I’m not the only one enjoying it. A group of two Dutch campers, a German hiker, a Belgian and an English hiker, older Finnish couple and us three cyclist from Switzerland and Holland celebrate the fact that it is Midsummer night tonight. The Fins and Dutch have a load of beer and this only adds to the general joy. The toilets are unfortunately on the other side of the parking area. However, instead of putting on all clothes again we find it easier just to cross the parking area in bathing suit. I won’t easily forget the expressions on the faces of the tourists getting out of a bus and still struggling to pull on a windproof jacket while someone in bathing suit on flip-flops passes as if it were the Mediterranean. Everyone in the pool of us has a story to tell about how they got here and before we realise it it is 9 o’clock in the evening; high time for dinner and a good night’s rest.
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