Iceland Trip 2009

Iceland - 30 July to 21 August 2009
Better Prepared Vehicles - TJ & Katy Nicolson - Land Rover 130

In October 2008 we took our first overland trip in our Defender 90, to Morocco, with Trailmasters.
The whole experience was fantastic, and it really gave us the bug for overland travel. We made
some really good friends while travelling, and very shortly after our return to the UK in November we were starting to think about the next trip. It had been an ambition for some while to visit Iceland, if only for a long weekend, and the Morocco experience gave us the confidence to organise a trip by ourselves - Iceland it was to be! Planning began in earnest, and a meeting at the Indoor 4x4 show at Driffield had the 6 of us poring over maps and planning routes. Dates were set for August 2009, but of course we were hostage to the vagaries of the Smyrnil Line ferry schedule. Unfortunately the route from Scrabster in the north of Scotland has been terminated, which means all travellers need to get to northern Denmark to board a ferry via the Faroe Islands, a 48hr crossing.

We wanted to spend as much time as possible in Iceland, and we agreed to spend 3 weeks - adding in travel time, it amounted to about 5 weeks off work! Our wives all have full-time jobs, and 5 weeks off was going to be a challenge for the, so we agreed that the boys would all drive up to Denmark and take the ferry, and the girls would fly out a week later to Reykjavik, take an internal flight to Egilsstadir and we'd meet them there. The plan was set - a yellow 130, a green 110 and a silver Discovery 2 were going to Iceland!

Once we were all together, we headed straight towards the fabulous Vatnajokull Glacier. Our first view of Iceland's glorious landscapes didn't disappoint, despite the low clouds and drizzle. We stopped at Snaefell mountain hut for lunch, to warm up and find out how to get to the glacier, and boy were we glad of the warm and toasty little hut tucked into the mountainside! Having established which direction to take, we headed out to Vatnajokull, which is completely awesome in its size. You really can't appreciate how big it is, even when you're standing right on the edge of it.


Returning to the hut at Snaefell for the night, I must admit we had rather failed to take into account the fact that sleeping at the foot of a glacier, even in August, isn't the warmest place in the world to be!

The following day, we were up and ready to leave shortly after 9am, with a view to taking the F909 and F910 to Adalbol and Bru, then down to the Ice Caves at Kverkfjoll. Unfortunately we turned south far too early, but it cut off about 3hrs of very hard driving, and we ended up crossing the north of Lake Halslon at the new dam. Turning north again, we rattled through some astonishing landscapes until the 130 started making some very odd noises. A quick inspection underneath revealed that the exhaust had sheared off just in front of the rear box, and we had nothing to hand that could fix it. A team discussion finally agreed that Katy and I would head north again to try and find some help, while the others would head southwest towards the ice caves.


Luck was on our side. We pitched up at Modrudalur, a tiny little hamlet which is apparently the
highest situated and still inhabited farm in Iceland. Vast swathes of land belong to the farm, and it lies in the rain shadow of the glacier, so is (apparently) a little drier than other areas. Stopping for coffee at the roadside cafe, I established that the farmer (who also owns the campsite and cafe) had a welder, and would probably be willing to help us out when he returned later in the day. True to his word, later that evening we were all fixed up, and we decided to stay the night as it was a beautiful evening, and by now far too late to try to get to Kverkfjoll.



The following morning, up bright and early to catch up with the others at Askja. Chuntering across corrugations needs to be done at 40mph or thereabouts, but it's impeded by the fact that you do have to slow down for bends and corners, otherwise the rough, loose surface will sling you off into a hillside. We finally made it to Askja at about noon, where we had a quick bite to eat at the mountain hut, then headed to the car park at the edge of the caldera. This was some truly epic scenery nothing but piles of vicious black lava, bullied into a vague road form by JCB's and diggers, and hardly impacted by the thousands of vehicles that travel up and down each year. Low cloud and rain again, four of us decided we would walk to the edge, while two of the girls sensibly stayed put in thecars with a book and a heated seat. I'm sure Askja is spectacular - we just couldn't see it! Onwards, via F910 again, to Tungnafellsjokull.

Good god, what a drive. We left Askja at 3pm, and got to Tungnafell at around 11pm!
Approximately 125km, but took 90 minutes to do the first 12km! More epic scenery, this time
including a black sand desert that stretched for about 15 miles, pinpricked occasionally by people
pushing bikes, or hiking.


Very late arrival at the campsite, but fortunately people were still up and about and there was enough light still to pitch camp. I think everyone slept soundly - it's a lovely setting, right by a river. I think the only reason that we pressed on for so long was that there was still some light, even at 11pm; we'd have been fools to do that drive in the dark, and we'd have had to pitch camp in the wilderness somewhere.

On to Landmannlaugar, but not before the Asher & Orit in the Discovery hit a rock at speed. There's nothing unusual in that, most of the roads in the interior are unsurfaced, corrugated and covered in loose rocks and stones. However, because of the rough surface they didn't realise that they'd punctured the tyre and badly dented the alloy wheel. Eventually the smell of burning rubber had them come, slowly, to a stop -and thank goodness they did, because the rear right tyre was completely shredded, with a fist-sized dent in the alloy. We were able to change wheels on the side of the road, and headed to the nearest petrol station to recover and inspect any further damage. It transpired that the front right was also dented, but the tyre was in reasonable shape, so we changed the second spare and headed down to Landmannlaugar. The plan was for him to go to Reykjavik the following day and try to get the wheel repaired or replaced.

Heading into Landmannlaugar, we were again amazed by the scenery - suddenly it started to get
green, and the rocky landscape was beginning to be replaced by grass and scrubland. We'd heard
that the campsite was "interesting" and it definitely was! The site circles a small hot spring, when we arrived it was packed to bursting with tourists, all tripping back and forth in their swimsuits - some blue with cold, others pink from the spring! Setting up camp that afternoon, we found ourselves the centre of attention - it seems a rooftent is a rare thing in Iceland. I guess it must be the high winds and 'variable' climate, but for most of the trip, ours were the only rooftents to be seen anywhere.
Lots of interest in the vehicles, people had heard about the three English Landrovers, and it's difficult to be inconspicuous in a bright yellow 130!



The following day was an easy drive on tarmac, after 380 miles "off-road" it was bliss to be on the black stuff again. The plan was to do the Golden Route next, so we visited the Gulfoss waterfall first, which was very impressive. What was really weird was the total lack of Health and Safety involvement, save for a couple of handrails near some steep steps. If you really wanted to walk into the waterfall, you could. This was the first experience we had of the 'grown up' treatment of H&S in Iceland and it never failed to amuse us. After Gulfoss, we headed to Geysir, to see the geysers! The Great Geysir itself, the one from which all others took their name, has been dormant since 1916, but Strokkur (the Churn), another geyser 100 metres south of the Great Geysir, erupts at regular intervals every 10 minutes or so and its white column of boiling water can reach as high as 20-30 metres. We were fortunate to catch a 'lively' period, with eruptions every 6-7 minutes. Again, just a small rope at knee height separates you from the boiling water spouting out of the ground...



From here, the Discovery2 headed directly to Reyjkjavik to try and sort out the tyres, while the
remaining four of us headed for Faxi, our next campsite next to a beautiful waterfall. 5 minutes out of Geysir, though, all the smoke suddenly fell out of the wiring on Colin and Sue's 110. Two fire extinguishers were unloaded into the cab. There was only a small fire behind the fuse box, but bad enough to cause quite a bit of damage. It seems there was a short somewhere which obviously now needed to be found and fixed! We headed straight for the campsite to try and sort the problem, which turned out to be a chafed wire in the rear tail light loom.

It was incredibly windy - at around 1am, we had to move both cars and turn them into the wind, as the roof-tents were getting such a side-on battering from what felt like 90mph winds. Nobody slept much that night.

Thingvellir, while very pretty and showing off some spectacular landscape, was rather lost on us. It's incredibly important to Icelanders, because in 930AD it was the seat of the world's first parliament, the Althing. Thingvellir National Park remains the ultimate symbol of Iceland’s independence and unity, a landscape inseparable from the national soul. Here, you can stand on a bluff and see the Mid-Atlantic ridge as it carves its way North and East into the island’s interior.

From Thingvellir into Reykjavik, an unscheduled hotel stop due to the Discovery's problems. We
found a hotel right under the fabulous cathedral Hallgrimskjirka, which was one of my wife's key
'must-see' places on the trip. Unfortunately, with the entire edifice covered in scaffolding, with
builders, hammer drills, skips and lorries back and forth all day, it was something of a
disappointment! I took the 130 to the local Land Rover garage for some running repairs - big thanks to Dassi at Eðalbílar Ehf.

We were now heading north, towards the Western Fjords. The road to Stykkisholmur was supposed to be terrible - in fact, it was one of the best roads we'd driven so far, and it took only 2hrs instead of the 4-5 we'd expected, which left us with plenty of time to explore the little town, and to get the ferry
to Flokalundur at 3.30pm. The Western Fjords are beautiful. We visited the cliffs at Bjarg-Tangar to see the puffins before they departed to spend 8 months bobbing around in the north Atlantic. Again,it was astonishing to be able to get right to the edge of the cliff and peer over to see these amazing birds - thousands of photographs were taken, Colin perching precariously on the cliff edge. The little folk museum at Hnjotur is worth a visit, if only for their fabulous waffles!

We took an amazing drive to Dynandji waterfall, which is unique in its formation, wider at the bottom than it is at the top. Stupendous views rewarded those who made it to the top, which was a fairly hard-going hike, even for the fitter ones of our group.

From Dynandji, we headed to Laugar for the night, yet more astonishing scenery. Every time you round a corner, there's another jaw-dropping view.

The following day saw us leaving Laugar, round the Vatnsnes peninsula, down through the Vansdalur Valley and on to Blonduos. I inadvertently backed the 130 into a small unit at the campsite, which turned out to be a bigger offence than I'd thought - upon returning from the car wash 15 minutes later, the police arrived and asked me to explain myself. It's an offence not to report ANY accident in Iceland, regardless of who/what was involved. You must call the police and wait for them to arrive.
All that being said, they were incredibly nice, and my punishment was only to repair what I'd broken.
We've heard some horror stories since about the Icelandic police, so I think I got off quite lightly.



We left Blonduos and headed to Akureryi, passing en route a collection of abandoned cars on the
edge of a farm in one of the most isolated spots we'd seen. We did go and have a little look round,
there seemed to be a couple of old Series an Austin Gypsy or two,and a pair of Simcas rotting gently into the soil.

A rest day in Akureyri enabled us to do some running repairs and oil changes on the cars, prior to heading on up to Husavik for the much-anticipated whale watching trip, which started off well enough on a flat calm, clear morning. The minke whales duly did their bit, but they're terribly hard to photograph, by the time you've spotted them, they're almost submerged again! Unfortunately the weather turned and the rain started driving in, so we were glad to head back to the harbour for a very welcome warming cup of coffee, followed by a quick visit to the Penis Museum (you HAVE to seeit to believe it).

From Husavik, we headed to Myvatyn for two nights, stopping en route at Kettilfjall, an astonishing hot springs area currently relatively untouched by industry, though there are signs that this beginning. There was nobody there, the silence only broken by the occasional "blurp" from the boiling mud, and hisses from the steam escaping the ground. The truly astonishing stench ensured that we didn't stay for as long as the photographers would like!


A tour around lake Myvatn took in Hverfjall (we didn't climb it) and Ludent (we drove up it) craters, the lava formations at Dimmuborgir and the hot springs and thermo-electirc plant at
Krafla.

Myvatn is easy enough to navigate in a day, but there are plenty of places to keep you occupied for longer. 11pm that night saw us in the public hot springs watching the sun almost set, a beautiful way to end the day.

By now we were on the home straight, with only the very north-easterly point to reach before
heading south and catching the ferry. We trundled up from Myvatn to Raufarhofn, stopping first at the Hverir hot springs, and then on to Europe's largest waterfall,
Dettifoss. We'd been told early in the trip that the Dettifoss road was one of the worst in the country

-much to the dismay of the locals, who find it amazing that a route to such an amazing landmark is so completely awful. They weren't exaggerating, this was nearly 25km of constant corrugations.
Being such an important site, many tourists try to make the trip in regular hire cars, and honestly i
have no clue how most of them made it. It's a road really only drivable in a 4x4 and it nearly finished us off!!
That said, Dettifoss was well worth the trip - it's a tough walk down and back but well worth it to
stand right on the very edge & get your toes wet, with millions of gallons of water thundering past just inches away.


Continuing up the 864 past Asbyrgi, we stopped for lunch at by the sea and again at Nupskatia, a
beautiful, isolated farmstead right at the north of the peninsula. Suddenly the sky got very big, no longer being surrounded by fjords, mountains or glaciers. We stopped again at Hraunhafnartangi, the most northerly point of our whole trip, with a brief photo stop once the GPS devices indicated we'd passed 66 degrees north. At only 3km from the Arctic Circle, the weather was the mildest it had been for the whole trip!



Our final 'must see' destination was the lighthouse at the end of the Langanes peninsula. It looks a simple enough drive, on the map, but looks can be deceptive, and it took us at least 2hrs to get
there. Having battered our way across some of the most dreadful roads so far, we finally arrived at the lighthouse, in a barren spot about 40km from the nearest fisherman's hut - only to find a couple of hikers camping on the top of the hill. It really seemed, at that point, that there was no place you could go, without bumping into someone else, even somewhere as desolate as Langanes!


Our last couple of days were spent heading back to Modrudalur, where the weather couldn't have been more different than the last time, and re-tracing our steps back to Bru and the Adalbjol valley. it was very strange to be back on roads that we had considered to be very challenging, but actually finding them very straightforward. Our perceptions of 'difficult' offroad driving had been radically adjusted in three weeks!

The very last night was spent at Seydisfjordur, before an early start the next day to queue up and board the ferry for the 2-day return journey to Denmark.



In summary, Iceland is a completely epic place to visit in a 4x4. They are, rightly, very precious
about driving off-road, but in truth, there's no need to even try. The F-roads across the interior are difficult enough, so there's no need to wander off the road! We probably didn't need three weeks. If you're organised, and have a good route worked out in advance, two weeks should be plenty. There are areas we missed that we'd like to try in the future. Handy hint - get yourself a Camping Card, available on the inbound ferry. For €90, this gets you free access to a growing number of campsites across the country. These paid for themselves in no time, though it must be said that camping prices aren't nearly as expensive in Iceland as they are in Europe - on average i think the fees were about ISK500-1000 per person, per night (£2.50 - £5.00 at August rates)