Day 3 - In the shadow of Eyjafjallajökull

 I woke up to an unusual sound... quiet... no wind... ok... don't mention it , don't even think it or the cycling gods will change their mind.

Finish my blog... pack up quick... don't waste the good weather.

The sun was already out and almost as soon as I got on the road I had to stop and remove layers. Today was about mileage.. and getting to the jump off point for the turn North if I could, if the wind stayed away and the cycling gods allowed.

Today I was first heading to Selfoss and then picking up the 'dreaded' route 1, the ring road, apparently full of traffic and whilst todays ride may not be the most scenic, it was like a transition day on the Tour De France... get this bit done before the interesting days ahead. Although I doubted I'd be able to sprint for the finish at the end!

Shortly after I had left the campsite, I saw an entrance down to the beach... a black sand one. I pushed my bike through the sand (which was hard work) and stood for a while watching the not insignificant waves break over the shore. I could see some birds bobbing in the water and I stood there watching for a short while... it was a nice little interlude for the morning. But back on the bike, my arse complaining somewhat, and back on the peddling. 

The landscape became even greener as I turned away from the coastline and I began to see more horses and sheep dotted around. Even the odd tree which I have missed over the past few days. The sun was shining, the birds were singing and for the first time since I'd set foot in Iceland, I started to see what the fuss was about. Up till now, the stark and lifeless landscape had not struck any cords with my soul... I hadn't felt the country yet. To be fair, I had been in a fair amount of discomfort as well. Here also, I bumped into the first cyclist I had seen. He was heading back to the airport but had been cycling here for 5 weeks. It was nice to finally see another mad fool! 

I wasn't exactly pain free this morning. My arse was better than yesterday, possibly because I had scenery to stare at today which served to distract from the biting pain and then the numbness that thankfully followed. My right knee was twinging as protest for the hard work put in so far and my hands were already feeling the effects of the handlebars... but... I felt better today, more optimistic, more at peace. Probably because the wind had dropped, my mood is often weather dependant!

My fears about lack of water, streams, rivers was disappearing fast for they were popping up with more frequency reassuring me that I would be able to find water... sounds silly... but the first 2 days the lanscape had been devoid of running water.

The road to Selfoss was pretty quiet and in the calm conditions I was up to 12mph at least... over twice that of the previous few days which gives some indication of the damage inflicted by the headwind. Because of that I reached Selfoss pretty quickly and gave myself the luxury of sitting and eating lunch... it's a positive feedback mechanism... the faster you go, the quicker you get to places, the more time to stop and fuel yourself, the faster you go. I sat on a nice bench, in the sunshine and watched the world go by for a bit.

The only problem with stopping, is that when I got back on my bike, my arse threw a temper tantrum and the pain was excruiciating for the next few minutes until I found that sweet spot of manageable uncomfortableness.

Then a right ish turn onto route 1...

Nice shoulder to cycle on, smooth ish road and only slightly more traffic... where was the chaos, the danger of route 1. Clearly whoever labelled this has never cycled the A4 in England! This route 1 had less traffic than the A4 on a good day.

And so onwards to Hella, my next aiming point. If I was knackered when I got there, I could go to their campsite, however I wanted to end up a little further down the road at the point I would launch into the Highlands

Here I passed another female cyclist, we shared a wave, and then past 3 other cyclists, all who waved as well. Cameraderie of the road in action. It would have been nice to stop and chat but the traffic at that point made it hard to cross the road, but even those waves provide a boost to the legs.

As I peddled onwards, to my left were the highlands into which I would be heading. Getting imperceptibly closer and I could start to hear them call out to me, challenging me to enter and play.

I reached Hella in good time, my intention was to find a cafe or something and grab a coffee.... signs left and right but then 1 caught my attention and I swung in. The Caves of Hella Cafe. Intruigued I went in...

I ordered some soup (why not) and waited for the girl to try and heat it up as the pot was broken. I googled the caves and discovered them to be man made. I asked how much to see them and then converted the kroner... not bad. A tour left at 4pm so I had time to sit for a bit, time to do the tour and then get another 8 miles down the road to Hvollsvoller, my final destination for the day.

Decision made, I sat and ate my (still cold) soup which still tasted pretty good and waited for the tour. The guide when he arrived fortunately spoke good english and incidently looked a bit like you would imagine a viking to look like.

The caves were interesting... no one really knew when they were made but as he explained, they might show that icelanders are descended from the Irish as well as the danes and norwegians as popular history would have you think. The Irish seemingly arrived to Iceland before the 'vikings' and the caves could be 800 to 1000 years old.

I also saw within the cave, the only railway in Iceland! Essentially the guy who helped build a small railway line in Reykavik, borrowed some of the rails and put them in the cave, to pull hay up for the sheep he kept in there! Last thing I would expect to find.

Tour over and it was back on the road. I met my last cyclist of the day, an Italian lad, who had cycled through the highlands and was on his way back to the airport. He provided some good info about the state of the roads and more importantly his enthusaiasm for the highlands made me less nervous and more excited for the days to come.

As I rode the last few miles, I got a closer look at  Eyjafjallajökul, the volcano that disrupted all the air traffic in 2010. To be fair tomorrow I would be cycling much closer to it but it appeared quite imposing even from a distance. Hvollsvoller approached and the campsite was at the start of the town. I pulked in and pitched my tent, pleased with the days progress.

The next few hours were spent studying the route for the next few days and calculating time, distance, food supplies and plan B if it all went wrong. It is getting cold so I am now snuggled in my sleeping bag writing this.

From tomorrow I may not be able to post the blogs and photos daily as there probably won't be a good signal at all times in the highlands. I will post when I can and SPOT will be on and pinging out often. 

Nite all