Winter camping in Iceland!

So...thinking the trip was done, huh? Nope! Just a little 24-hour layover in our hometown, a chance to sleep in our own bed, and we are off again! Turns out, after we booked our 2 weeks in Guadeloupe, I found out that we could stay away for a third, but it was too late for an extension. After a little research, and previous encounters with such a beautiful location, I found dirt-cheap tickets to another island, albeit a little colder. After a Quebecois inspired-dinner at Archibald's(gastronomical poutine and pâté chinois!) and great conversation with an older couple at the neighboring table, we head to gate 64 and board a flight to Iceland. I hate to say it, but we are heading there to get away from the Canadian cold: In comparison to our -16 degrees C, Reykjavik is enjoying a balmy +5! Onwards!

We land at an ungodly 4:20 am, collect our campervan(that's right, we're camping, too) and make our way to the Blue Lagoon. Though a little expensive, Mario and I find that it is the best way to get over the early morning combined with the jetlag. Plus, with a reservation first thing in the morning, combined with ability to change quickly, means that we are the first people wading out way into the lusciously warm water at 8 am. It's such a wonderful feeling, bathing in the mineral-rich thermal waters - plus, with the one-free-drink included, we wake ourselves up with the "Green is Good" smoothie, heavy on the ginger.

Our goal for this first day, weather permitting, is to make the 5-hour drive to Skaftafell, an excellent campground in the Vatnajokull National Park. We loved it there this past summer, it has excellent facilities, and is one of the few places open in the winter for camping. Now, I say weather permitting because THIS is Iceland, and weather can change at a moment's notice, so we never know when we might run into gale-force winds, or a freak snowstorm. All attention on the road now.

We make only stops along the way: One is at the black beach of Reynisfjara, which you might recognize from a certain Liberté Skyr yogurt ad. The waves are wicked here, pounding the beach with crazy force, mists whipping up into the air. People try to run in for photo of the nearby rock formations, but you can get sucked into the ocean here, swept away by the water. People have died here, and still, crazy tourists will attempt anything for a photo. We watch one woman fall over and roll in in the surf, soaked from her experience with Reynisfara. We stand back and shake our heads. Our second stop is just around the bend in Vik, at the IceWear factory, because we love us some woolen goods. Blankets, socks, sweaters - we fill our bags with toasty warmth.

The sun sets somewhere around 4:30, but twilight lingers long in Iceland, so when we pull into the campground at Skaftafell, the sky is still tinted with blue. Later, a nice cover of clouds ensures that any chance we might've had at seeing the Northern Lights is gone. That's ok - we're tired after such a long drive. A nice warm shower, a hearty meal of Shakshuka(eggs poached in a spicy tomato sauce), and we tuck ourselves into the back of our campervan, snuggled deep into puffy layers of sleeping bag. It's a good thing the air outside is still a balmy 2 degrees - our heater doesn't work.