La Traversée de l'Islande

After waking up, I act as usual, as if this was a normal day. The fact that I'm leaving for Iceland today, and therefore that it's the begining of an incredible adventure seems unreal. And nevertheless "it's on".

I'm asking myslef stupid questions while putting my clothes on, as "Do I take my belt?" I decide not to take it : my trousers seems to hold, and experience proved a belt hurts when the backpack press on it. I don't want to be annoyed by it.

Finally, even though I have been very stressed these last days, I found back all my equipement, except my balaclava. Everything is OK, even the SPOT device! These Canadiens had promised three times they would call me to confirm problem was solved. They never called, but problem is solved. That's all I need. I'm worried about my balaclava : it has always been with me, even for my most craziest trips, and it is very hot (I'm always too hot with it). I hope I won't need it there...

Time to leave for Gare du Nord where I'm taking the Eurostar to London, and then change to Gatwick where my plane takes off in 7 hours. I hope there won't be any delay, I have a tight schedule...

6:51 am - France

The song "Double Rainbow Remix" is stuck in my head : "It's a full rainbow all the way, double rainbow, oh my god, double rainbow...". I'm afraid they confiscate my knife at the checkpoint of the Eurostar, but I guess I don't have any other option now. I hope as well that the transfer between St Pancras and Gatwick won't take too long. I really have plenty of opportunities to miss my plane. Maybe I should have planed more time for transfers...

11:43 am - UK

In St Pancras, I get on the train to Gatwick 2 min before it leaves. That's a 'Perfect'. However in Gatwick, it's a nice WTF (What The F***) : my plane ticket says Gatwick - Reykjavik with Astraeus. And I'm embarking on a Gatwick - Keflavik with Iceland Express, after having waited pointlessly around an hour on the advice of a faithless English employee.

First mini quest before getting on the plane : get rid of all my coins. I don't want to cross Iceland with useless Pounds in my pockets. So I do lots of calculations and buy what seems to be chocolates. And I give the remaining coins to a French little girl playing with her brother next to me. And then I'd also like to give her the chocolates as well since Cadbury betrayed me once more : it's digusting, and they are not even chocolates.

In the plane, I'm sitting next to a Canadian girl with who I talk during the flight. She's going back home after having travelled around the world for a year or so. I try to remember how I felt like when coming back from Peru. But I can't, I'm too stressed by my project, and I spend my time telling her I'm scared. If I were her, I would have get bored of me.

I also try to get rid of my "chocolates", but no one wants them. They know.

"Why can't you keep it? ask the mother of two on my left.

— It's too heavy, and I don't have enough space anyway in my backpack.

— Not enough space? I'm sure you could find some!" she answers.

Well actually I can't. And the fact that she doesn't understand gets me on my nerves : I can hardly close my backpack which already weight more than 25kg. So I definitely can't take anything else with me.

But very soon I realise how difficult it is for her to understand I got to a point where each gram counts : "They can't understand". It changes two things. Firstly, I realise she never has been, and probably will never be, in the same situation. So I have a strange feeling of disinterested sympathy, because I think I understand her, and she can't understand me. And that's my second point : it appears to me that it will be all the more difficult to share my experience with someone else that it is extreme. I feel even more lonely, and decide to keep quiet.

15:11 - Islande - Keflavik

Weather is cloudy and cool. But I'm so excited. I learn that Keflavik is in fact the international airport of Iceland, 50km south from Reykjavik. WTF explained... partly.

At the bus station of Reykjavik, I try to understand which bus company I should buy my tickets from. There are two, and I can't see any difference : they both go to the same places for the same price. I buy a single to Skogar for today, where my trek will start, with the company which has the most beautiful ad. I'll be at Skogar tonight!

I still need to find cash, get the weather forecast and especially wind direction, and also buy gas for the stove.

16:43 - Reykjavik

Gas solved. Still need cash. I'm going to leave from the South, even if the wind comes from the North for the moment. But it shouldn't bother me too much : the mountains might block it, and it's not that strong anyway. I'll see what the weather's like again in Landmannalaugar so I can decide whether to continue from the South, or take a bus to Myvatn and go from the North across the Sprengisandur. Actually I guess I'm lazy, knowing that going to Myvatn in bus takes a full day. I want to start as soon as possible so I don't loose my motivation.

I still don't know how much is an Icelandic Krona in euros...

16:57

1€ = 150 Kr

I get on a crappy bus which reminds me of peruvians ones, but with 4x4 wheels. By the way the bus belongs to the company I did not buy the ticket from. I am now convinced there is no difference. I meet a couple of French students who tourist :

"What's your plan?

— Dunno." Sounds fun.

Here, 4x4 have huge tires. Looks like a contest for the biggest ones. It must be so hard to drive : the frame is raised up to its maximum, and the tires are really huge.

On the road, I also note that houses often have a single floor. It seems like they're trying to hide from the wind behind lava blocks and slopes. The landscape is flat, without any trees, and it has to be quite windy in bad weather.

The road crosses lava bubbles. Some of them are exploded, other no, like a boiling pot suddenly cristallised. It goes behond imagination.

19:52

Iceland is a photoshoped country. Waterfalls are too straight. The gray is too grey, the green too green, the black too black. And landscapes are too perfect. Like the drawing of a child, with high contrast and saturation. FAKE!

21:46 - Skogar

It's bright outside, the sun is still in the sky. In the bus, I thought a lot about ways to resolve possible issues I could face. I realise that dreaming is a good way to think.

I have the feeling I am on another planet.

Skogafoss

D-2 Skogar - Thörsmork

Weather is splendid. I got up at 6 with the sun. I'm feeling great. But I was so excited I made my first two mistakes. First, I discovered it was possible not to reseal correctly my camel bag. So the water dripped out in my backpack and then on me. Refreshing. Then I drank water from a little river before noticing there were worms inside. I hope I won't get sick.

"It's insane!" I repeat to myself while looking at the landscapes covered in ashes. I think it will be one the phrases of the expedition.

I realise I think and talk only in English because most of the time I'm thinking about discussions I have with some people (real or not) met on the way. But I don't dream a lot since landscapes are far too impressive, and my backpack is too heavy.

"I was getting tired of going up, so I guess it was about time I get tired of going down." I say to myself while going down to Thörsmork, when I start to become tired. I also think about grammar and idioms in English. I'm weird, it's official.

Landscapes close to the volcano reminded me of the Mordor in the Lord of the Rings : dark and burnt, some smoke here and there. Then it reminded me of Peru when I reached Godaland (The Valley fo Gods). But otherwise : "it reminds me of nothing."

Godaland

It starts raining when I reach Thörsmork, and here I face a super challenge : huge river-crossing "multi-ford, combo!". The camp site is on the other side of a very large glacial river. It takes me an hour to walk the last 100 meters. But I'm quite happy since I find a photo album in the hut showing people stuck in the middle of the river with their cars. I must say I feel proud I managed to get through without any problem! And I'm also happy I crossed it tonight, it would have cooled me tomorrow morning.

I thought I had lost Johnson too, my stuffed rabbit, because I couldn't find it. But then it was in another pocket. And I took a shower in the sink before noticing that it was forbidden. Don't give a damn, and I'm even thinking F***!! Because I think it will be the word of the trip (with "It's insane!")

I was scared to cross the river because I couldn't see any footprints so I didn't know where to cross. Might not be easy if I loose the track in the desert or if there is fog. I hope I'll be able to make it alone.

And f*** as well because I should have taken a belt. I keep loosing my pants.

And now I'm waiting for my clothes to dry in the hut. I'm exhausted.

D-3 Thörsmork - Hvanngil

Painful awakening. Not feeling so great because I imagine that today is going to be the same as yesterday, and yesterday was harsh (2000m of going up and down!) At the begining of the day, I mostly thought about yesterday and the people I met, the things I've said. Then I had to cross a river, and it changed my mind. I got better. But this morning has been very hard : it was long, black sand hills, and many zigzags for nothing. In the end it took me 6h to walk 12km!

At lunch time, I had decided to stop at the first camp site I reached at 12:30 am. But then I met a bunch of very nice French people doing the Landmannalaugar trek the other way, and they changed my mind (10km in 3h only they said).

It's strange, but when I'm alright I talk and think in English, and when I'm not, it's in French.

A recurrent thought : "I'm thinking about what I'm supposed to write in my travel log, isn't it funny?" It's actually stupid since if I think about writting in the log, then I'll have to write in the log that I think about writting in the log. And if I don't think about writting in the log, then I'll hopefully think about some interesting things (need to check) to write in the log.

I modified the settings of my backpack, and it seems more comfortable, even if it's still as heavy as before.

"I finally use my walking sticks to walk!" and not to help me carry my backpack. In fact, since I left Skogar, my sticks are strapped under my bag so I can hold them and weight my bag like that. I can't weight it a long time, but it's better than nothing. And I actually strap my sticks back after a short time...

Landscapes remind me of Bolivia. I'm getting close to Landmannalaugar! "It's the final countdown! Even if I'd better sing it at the end..." (metal tribute)

I'll probably rest a day in Landmannalaugar, I have 2 (17 days of food, and 15 days to cross Iceland). And depending on the weather, I could take the bus from Landmannalaugar to Myvatn to continue with the wind in my back. Need to check weather forecast + bus timetable.

I'm doing my best to take nice shots, and I hope they are good. It's the only thing that lifts me up at the moment.

Weather deteriorates in the afternoon, and I meet a very nice Englishman. Just need a Spanish and I'll have spoken all the languages I know.

Volcanic rocks become shiny with the rain. It's magic. The desert seems to light up under the rain, and under the rain only. It's kind of unreal.

At the end of the day, the backpack becomes really heavy. My socks and shoes are already coming apart. That's ugly. But on the other side I've got a belt. One of the French guy I met at lunch time gave me a rope, with some food and a gas refill. I'm tired of walking. Can't wait to get to the camp site.

1.5km before the camp site, I still have to cross a large river. Awfully painful. I feel like walking on stubs because of the cold.

I'll try to walk with two socks on each foot tomorrow, see if it can help with blisters. I hope I'll have enough energy to reach Landmannalaugar : 19 km in straight line, 25 km in reality, ups and downs. It's going to hurt. And that damn alarm clock which still doesn't work after two days : I can't hear it and wake up late...

D-4 Hvanngil - Landmannalaugar

I sleep with Johnson (the rabbit) : never underestimate its love. Seriously, that soft toy really brings me a comfort. I'll have to think why.

Leaving in the mist, feeling great : "tonight's a treat!" thinking about Landmannalaugar's hot springs, and the rest day.

I walk singing out loud, and talking with Nature and the weather : "Damn right I'm not taking pictures! You wanna know why? I can't see anything! If you want me to take pictures of your beautiful landscapes, then make it better!... How do you say "improve" in English?... make better?... no..."

"Moving fast on target."Then, a group of Russians walk past me while crossing a river. "...Russians moving faster on target."

Then I'm facing a very steep slope : "In Corsica they don't even think about it : the path goes straight. On the other hand in Iceland, you either have useless 5 km detours, and if that's not possible, a steep slope. F***!"

"It's not actually raining cats and dogs... Oh! You remembered that one! That's a very good... idiom! When was the last time I heard it?..."

Then I reach fumaroles in the mist. Beautiful. However it sucks a bit since it is supposed to be one of the most impressive places in Iceland and I can't see further than 5 m. "I'm so f***ed. Still not taking pictures you see!". The mud is white, blue, green, orange, red... : "I'm shoe-painting. You should try it, it's awesome!"

I meet a group of Iceland people who encouraged me. They can't beleive what I'm trying to do. Me neither. And then I overtake a sick German. We walk side by side until the next hut. He has a huge viking walking stick, with a dragon head on the top. It must be so heavy, not surprising I walk faster than him even with 25 kg on y back! However that guy is a warrior : he hasn't eaten anything for 2 days, but he decided to walk to Landmannalaugar. Nico 2, the come back. Should I admire him or fear him? Not knowing, I feel both.

In the hut where I have lunch with him, we chit-chat a long time with Inga, the warden of the hut. Looks like she's bored to death and she tells us how lonely she is since nobody pays attention to here. She was quite cold at the begining, but when I told her about my trip :

"And why do you do this? Why across the desert?

— I don't know... I've always been attracted by deserts. There's something special about it." ,which had to be the magic trick because then she couldn't stop talking. We find out she's fond of adventure and Nature. An extremist. She spent 6 weeks alone in the Sprengisandur!!

"Sometimes I had to stay in the tent 2 or 3 days, because of the weather. I felt I was going crazy. But I can't help it. Every year, in winter, when I'm back on the coast, I hear the Highlands calling me : ' Inga! Come! We're waiting for you! ' And every summer I come back." Before leaving she offers me a cup of Earl Grey, and ask me to say hi from her to the wardens of Nyidalur, where I should arrive in a week.

Next landscapes reminds me of Bolivia once again, but a lot greened, and with fumaroles. It's insane. I walk into the French couple who tourist. I'm moving fast : it took me 3h to walk 4h. Then, above the valley of Landmannalaugar, the path overlooks a vast lava flow : "Ladies and Gentlemen, here is the biggest dung ever! Who do you thank for that?" It's a mass of rocks piled on one another, partly covered with moss. There are caves everywhere : "I'm expecting a dwarf to burst out any minute now... wait... Alright, it's not coming out, let's go I'm tired of it all."

A film crew goes the other way. For the first time, my mind sets off. I dream we meet in the hut, and they want to interview me :

"And you're French?

— Indeed I am.

— But your accent...

— Iz it béteur laïque zat?

— Much better!"

Finally I can relax in the hot spring, where I lounge about an hour while the sun goes down. Classy.

I can feel I reached the Highlands, it's colder (10°C). I spilled soup in the tent, and I noticed I have a hole at the back of my waterproof pants. Less classy.

Tomorrow I'll have a shower!

Cold, got to sleep.

And over congrats because I'm not in such a bad shape even if it was really hard!

D-5 Resting in Landmannalaugar

Bloody blister. The one on the heel still hurts. Wearing two socks proved useless. Moderate wind and rain squalls. I spent most of the day sleeping inside the tent. I had a shower and washed my clothes, but I'm struggling to dry them off. I'm thinking a lot about the desert that awaits me (Sprengisandur). I must admit I'm scared of the weather : I've been told awful stories. Looks like sand infiltrates everywhere and sometimes the wind is strong enough to carry pebble away. Apparently, some Germans had their car completly wrecked during one of those storms. I can't imagine on foot... That being said, weather forecast is good for tomorrow : the wind should turn to South-West (currently North-East, meaning straight in my face). I'll try to cover as much distance as possible before setting up the tent. In 4 days I should be in Nyidalur. I need. Actually I'm doing that trip to enjoy and appreciate the unique beauty of Iceland's landscapes. So if it becomes too hard, I should stop. But I know deep inside me that I would regret it if it had to happen.

Fun fact : I've been offered some food, or asked why I can't buy "real" food , like pastas and not noodles. I can't! I have to eat my food to lighten my backpack, and also I have to use my stove to calculate how many lunches I can heat with one gas cylinder. If I can avoid being short of gas, it'd be great... That being said, I'm still using the first one, so it looks like I have enough gas until the end.

F*** the blister : I can't even go to the hot spring or else my plaster will come off. And I limp like a miserable piece of nothing.

I can't decide whether I should buy tape from the bus-shop of the camp site or not, the only place where I can buy supplies of the trip, to repair my waterproof trousers. I decide not to buy anything. Will I regret it? Probably, but never mind. I'll have plenty of time to mourn later.

And what if I can't set the tent up in the storm? I'm scared of staying outside. Scared of the flying rocks and of the thin sand. My gosh! I'm quite scared!

Ah, and I'm bored too. Accelerate healing process! NEED MANA! [magical force]

Johnson (the tent) seems to hold despite the weather, but the wind comes in and it's becoming cold inside.

I thought of a solution if I can't set the tent up in the Sprengisandur because of the wind : I sit behind my backpack, its rain cover on me to protect from the rain and the sand, and I wait. My backpack is big enough to hide behind it.

It has only been 3 days... F***! It seems like it has already been much longer. I'm so demotivated. I have to set short priorities, the first one being reaching the barn in Versalir, and then Nyidalur. Or better Nyidalur hut via the barn. And then we'll see. At last I'll have crossed that Sprengisandur, and listening to what they say about it, it will have to be some kind of an achievement!

I've taken the picture to make a parody of 66°North ads : "This is Laugavur. We're in August, and it's 6°C. Summer, just the way I like it. Welcome to Iceland."

It's a downpour outside. I hope it'll get better.

Next

400km Alone Across Iceland - Travel Log

Travel Log

This travel log has been written day after day, while I was crossing Iceland on foot. Pictures are here to show the landscapes. Films, to analyse my behaviour while facing difficulties in order to learn from those experiences. And this travel log was made to share my day to day life during these 17 days alone.

However the typical day of a man crossing a desert alone isn't made of reality, but of thoughts and dreams. This travel log doesn't list facts. It is meant to be an open door on my (imaginative) mind.

Therefore, most of what you are about to read never existed.

To make it easier to understand, bold text refers to facts and real discussions. On the contrary, text in standard font refers to my thoughts.

Finally, I hope you will forgive me for having written some rude words. Originally, there were two types : in english, and in french. All of them have been censored (rude words are rude!), but those written in english will be between brackets [...] because they meant I wasn't really upset (I wasn't upset enough to think of them in french).

From Skogar (D-1) to Landmannalaugar (D-5)

From Landmannalaugar (D-6) to Nyidalur (D-9)

From Nyidalur (D-10) to Dreki (D-14)

From Dreki (D-15) to Myvatn (D-18)