In the Fjord, Out the Fjord. Repeat.

The night was cold and wet, and the morning much of the same - we hosted a baby goat in our tent vestibule overnight. Chilled to the bone, we moved slower than normal, hunched over hot coffee and oatmeal in the sunken turf roof kitchen, pouring over our map and guidebook. Given the weather, we opted for a travel day - more driving, but more time to relax in the warmth of Duster, charge our devices, with hopes of finding the sun somewhere on the east coast, hiding between the fjords.

It wasn't long before we reached Egilsstadir, stopping for an Icelandic lunch at the N1 gas station. Since distances between towns can be vast and empty, these service stations are the place for travelers to stock up. They supply fuel and car supplies, basic foodstuffs and camping gear, super-clean washrooms and phenomenal restaurant service. This is not your average snack bar fare - no, the food is remarkably high quality, with a full kitchen staff churning out dishes like Icelandic lamb stew, and a fish gratin called plokkfiskur, with fresh bread and butter. In the comfortable dining area, even in the middle of nowhere, we could enjoy a delicious meal while enjoying the view of the nearby mountains.

Following lunch we began chasing waterfalls, part two. After all, in a country covered in ice, being melted by so many underground volcanoes, the waterfalls are practically being thrown at us as we drive down the highway. More so heading east, where there is a significant drop in elevations from the highlands to the coast. As we descend into another fjord, heading for the picturesque town of Seydisfjordur, we are weaving back and forth over glacial run-off, with each drop producing another spectacular view and breath-taking waterfall. It's almost too much.


A moment to geek out: as we walk around the pretty little fjord-side town, we discover apples and oranges discarded in a large planter in the park(likely left behind by one of the patrons of the large cruise ship parked in the harbour). We come to the realization that we have been travelling through a real-life version of Legend of Zelda - Breath of the Wild. Wild horses grazing in fields, waiting to be mounted and tamed? Check. Tall craggy volcanoes, indicative of Death Mountain, and home of the Gorons? Check. Ice covered cliffs and cold temperatures of Hebra? Check. Rolling verdant hills of Hyrule to the west? Check. And now we are discovering fruit in hidden locations? I just wish we had already found the old man in the cave, because getting down from some of these mountain climbs would be so much easier with a handglider!


After climbing back out from Seydisfjordur, and contouring a whole bunch more, such as Fáskrúðsfjörður, Stöðvarfjörður, Breiðdalsvík, Berufjörður, and experiencing a small hiccup with the Duster(a useless sensor tripped - we called the rental company and it's a common fault for this make of car, so nothing to be worried about), we decided Höfn was as good a place as any to call it a night.

How wrong we were...