Same But Different: Jokulsarlon to Djupivoger - Lookin For John Fairweather - CycleBlaze

August 12, 2013

Same But Different: Jokulsarlon to Djupivoger

Lately, I've been feeling sluggish; taking all day on a relatively short distance, like seventy-six kilometres on Sunday. Today I wanted to prove that I could still ride one hundred and fifty-plus kilometres; besides, I need to be in Seydisfjordur Thursday morning, to catch the ferry, and I'm one that'll only take a bus if necessary. So, I was riding back the way I'd come. But it was a different day, different weather being warmer and windless, the same scenery, but seen from a different direction.

It was perhaps the best experience beginning the day at the glacier lake, enjoying the view in early morning light. I looked over from my tent and saw lots of other people enjoying the early morning by the lake too. The moraine hills by the café had half a dozen figures silhuoettle against the early morning sun; and when I packed all on the bike and cycled back across the bridge to that side, there were lots of photographers with heavy cameras on tripods.

I got away at eight knowing that it would take around twelve hours to ride the hundred and seventy-two kilometres back to Djupivoger, which I planned on reaching today. Then I could have an easy day tomorrow to Egilsstadir and a rest on Wednesday. I was glad the forecast was for the find weather to last the week out. And, I didn't have to detour into the town of Hofn to shop. I reached the petrol station about five kilometres before Hofn shortly after midday, where I'd a coffee and a bar of chocolate which I don't have the same appetite for than when Is younger. Cake is more substancial but there wasn't any cakes, just the packaged manufactured type which I bough one of for later. I wolfed down the chocolate nevertheles and together with three cups of coffee when I include refills, was an energy bomb and was fine on this occasion, keeping me riding until four o'clock when I had a second, main lunch stop.

I reached the bay Lonsvik for that late lunch. There was a campervan parked at the rest-place where I sat at the picnic table. A short Asian man returned up from the water's edge and talked with his partner, a tall attractive blond woman sitting on the step of the open door, then came over with a thermos and offered me hot water to make tea. I'd just boiled water and made tea so declined. When I wasn't having hot water, the woman stood up and approached and said "you'll have a cookie won't you?" "Oh yes" I replied greedily, and she reached out the pack and deposited one on the table, then another saying "Have two". We talked about the biscuits and snacks generally, and as they'd just arrived in Iceland a fews days earlier, I told them about the Icelandic coffee with as many refills as you like: they were Dutch and so spoke English full of americanisms so I said gas station to say, that's the best place to drink coffee.

There remained over fifty kilometres when I started again at five. But it remained a pleasant ride onwards across the scree sloping into the ocean, and onward on the road I'd ridden Saturday, but I saw everything from the other side, so it was in no way similar. This time, the mountains cast the last two fjords in shade as the sun waned, making it feel cold. Then I reached Djupivogur at half eight, where the grumpy young man from the campsite that went around asking everyone in an accusing voice, "have you paid?" even if he saw a sticker on the tent to say they had paid, was actually talkative this evening, taking an interest and asked me about where I'd been in Iceland. When I mentioned Akureyri, he said that was were he's from, but has relatives in Djupivoger, as that was were his father was from.

View when I opened the tent at quarter past six.
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View from Moraine.
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Ice Sculpture.
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The Ring Road.
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View towards a glacier.
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The Icelandic Sheep stand their ground. A Dutchman told me, one day he was chased by an Icelandic sheep: he ran because he was scared while his wife was in stitches laughing. What harm did he think a sheep would do him. Meanwhile the two Icelandic sheep pictured, seeing me ride pass, got to talking. "Do you think we could go for a bike-ride sweetheart?" says the sheep on the left to the sheep on the right. "Yes we should dear. But first we'd have to throw off the shackles of The Farming Class; and introduce a political system run by us animals" says the sheep on the right. "Have you read, Animal Farm? It didn't go too well there when the animals took over" says the sheep on the left; till which, right replies "Us Icelandic sheep will be just fine, besides there's no pigs in Iceland. We'll soon have a revolution, and we'll be off on our bikes. Mark my words dear. And when we do, I'm going to keep a journal on the host site CRAZY SHEEP ON A BIKE. It'll be great fun with other sheep rating my photos Great Pics. Especially, pictures of me with my sheepy face looking out at other sheep all around the world."
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Ring Road winding its way through lava.
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All Icelandic farms need a huge amount of fodder to see them through a Winter which last until June. So the Summer is a busy time making round bales.
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Colourful Icelandic horses. Like the sheep and the cattle, these animals, without any outside blood being introduced, are the decendants of horses brought to Iceland in the nineth century by the Vikings.
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Tunnel.
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View toward Lonsvik after emerging from the tunnel.
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Lunch.
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Riding towards the scree slope.
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Today's ride: 172 km (107 miles)
Total: 4,298 km (2,669 miles)

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