July 25, 2020
Day 7 - Cold and soggy in the North-East
Skjöldólfsstaðir to Reyðarfjörður
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Day 7 - Skjöldólfsstaðir to Reyðarfjörður - 52 miles
A shorter-than-normal cycle on the cards today, so I wasn't in a hurry to pack up and leave the campsite. I noticed that there was another bicycle and tent pitched up nearby, but I never saw the owner so didn't get chance to chat.
Straight after leaving the camp, there were a couple of interesting 'attractions' to see. First was Rjúkandi waterfall which was perched right above the road and there was a short walk up to a viewing spot. This entire stretch of valley seemed to have a waterfall cascading off the cliffs about every 500m along, you're completely spoiled for choice. Next was a pair of old protected turfhouses for sheep at Hjarðarhagi farm which I almost missed. Despite their primitive appearance, they were suprisingly warm inside thanks to the brushwood and turf insulation. Apparently there used to be 6 in total but the others were destroyed to make way for the ringroad. It seemed stupid to bulldoze some unique historical buildings when there was so much flat and free land either side, but I assume there must've have been some logistical reason for it.
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A little while later and I spotted a tent in the distance near a river canyon which looked like it had a bike parked up outside too. I'm guessing it was another cycle tourer who had decided to wildcamp instead. Fair play to him for finding somewhere, but the spot wasn't hidden at all. I'm sure no one would disturb him considering these parts of the ringroad are deserted between late afternoon and the following morning, but I'm still wary about camping in plain sight with a sun that doesn't set.
There was a final climb towards the town of Egilsstaðir and I spotted the telltale shape of yet another cyclist on the road ahead of me. They were heading in the same direction and must've passed me while I was having a snack stop. My chainset is pretty good for climbing hills and it didn't take too much time before I caught up. He introduced himself as Jens from Germany, who has been coming to Iceland every year for the past 10 years! It was interesting hearing his anecdotes about what has changed with the tourism levels this year thanks to Covid-19. Turns out he was the other cyclist that had been on the same campsite last night without me realising. I also discovered he was an avid football fan (Bayern Munich, of course!) and we chatted about transfers and the Champions League on the final descent into town. He was intending to go to the tiny regional airport to ask about flights back south to do some hiking off the bike, and I carried on towards the discount supermarket. The prices here in 'Bónus' supermarket chain were even cheaper than the UK with many foods, and it was funny to look at all the imported English products with '£1 value' and '50p offer' printed on their wrappers. I finished off with another Subway for some warmth and free WiFI.
There was a one final pass to get over before the end of the day and it looked to be the final real climb of the trip. The slow grind to the top was easy and the scenery was relatively uninspiring, but as soon as I crested the 'summit', the valley opened out into the fjord below and I was treated with a wonderfully dramatic descent. One huge advantage to travelling with a bicycle as opposed to a car, is that you can stop to take pictures in pretty much any spot, whereas there's no way a vehicle could've pulled over without blocking most of the narrow road.
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Reyðarfjörður was actually more built-up that I was expecting- I assumed it would've just been a tiny cluster of buildings like Varmahlíð but instead had a port area and some building over 2 stories high which was a rarity in rural Iceland! It even had a full-size indoor football dome in a town of 1300, which is something we pretty much only have in England for the huge Premier League teams. This place has better all-weather football facilities than my city in UK, and this is a common theme I've noticed throughout the whole of the trip.
Pulling into the spacious campsite, I couldn't see a single place to pay, so set up in a corner of the grass anyway. Later on, a pair of young girls came around collecting money, so I assume that's the norm. With the gentle soothing patter of rain on the tent roof, I settled down for an early night of reading (Moods of Future Joys by Alastair Humphreys). It didn't take long for a problem to arise though, and water was dripping through a mesh vent in the middle of my tent's inner shell. Rain was somehow seeping through the allegedly waterproof outer layer, and instead of water tension carrying the droplets along the side, they were building up and dropping straight onto my 'do-not-get-wet' down sleeping bag instead. My first solution was to try to tie a waterproof sock to catch the droplets, and then I came up with the easier method of just laying my camping towel over the top of my inner tent. Weirdly the towel didn't get wet at all from this, so I have literally no idea what happened to the leak. It's about time for a new tent anyway- this one is sturdy and spacious, but it's heavy, bulky to pack, and the floor is ridiculously porous to any sort of moisture. My mate had a cheap tent for when we were camping in New Zealand and his stayed permanently dry when mine didn't.
Today's ride: 52 miles (84 km)
Total: 423 miles (681 km)
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