Weekend in Westfjords – part 1


Reykjavik – Ísafjörður

I woke up at 5 am, I was too excited to sleep. And after a final touch to my backpack, I took the first bus outside the city. Few minutes before 8 am I was on route 1, hoping someone will stop and take me to my destination. Or as close to that as possible. 6 cars and 8 hours later, there I was. But let me tell you how it all started.

For everyone who knows me at least a bit, might not be a surprise: I don’t know to make a decision. I’m either rushing into it, not thinking enough about consequences or not taking it at all. I changed my mind 4 times before going on the trip, but eventually I decided to go. The plan was to hitchhike my way there and back for four days and three nights. Camping, of course or if I was lucky, sleep one night in a hostel.

Started my trip with me buying a cheap tent and because the seller was the most annoying person I met in a long while, I left as soon as possible without buying a mattress as well. And I didn’t make enough time to go somewhere else. Lesson learned. Because, oh boy, I learned so many things this weekend.

And now let’s move along to the part of my being on the side of the road trying to catch a ride. I had my signs prepared: one part was written Westfjords, the other one Reykjavik. Well, that’s another mistake. But I’ll tell you more about that when the time comes.

I wasn’t there not even for 10 minutes and the first car stops. An Icelandic man, in his late forties, tells me he won’t take me that far away, but still a bit longer. Of course I agreed, and there I was. My first car. He drove me outside the tunnel, before reaching Borgarnes. He told me so many things I could visit and hike and do in Wesfjords… because he was actually born and raised there. I forgot the name of the city, but that was a nice coincidence.

Second car came with another Icelandic man as a driver, somewhere in his sixties. He’s a retired fisherman from Dalvik and he told me everything about the Fish Festival they were having the same weekend. Almost made me change my mind and go there, but I didn’t. I loved hearing interesting stories from people I met and hitchhiking was all about that. He showed me on the map how should I continue with my route just before dropping me off at the intersection of route 1 and route 60.

The wind wasn’t that bad, the sun was shining and here I was. Alone walking downhill until the next car will take me. I was so happy, so smiley, didn’t care at all about anything really. And so the next car came around 30 minutes later. This time an Austrian couple. They were visiting Iceland for the last two weeks and they were heading to Snæfellsnes.

I was trying to remember the view from last year, in December when we went to Grundarfjordur. But of course, nothing was the same. And so talking with the couple, times passed by and they dropped me off at another intersection. This time the wind wasn’t that friendly. But it didn’t matter… I kept going. But as soon as I was approaching Wesfjords I realized how stupid is my sign and useless. And 10 minutes later, I was again in another car, this time with a French family. They had such a small car, and they were 4 already. I still can’t believe it they took me with them. The father was the only one who was able to speak English, but again… so, so nice of them.

And then the couple from Switzerland saved me and they drove me up until the next point (I can’t remember which one was it).. And the last piece of my puzzle was a Swiss father with his two boys. And they took me all the way to Ísafjörður. It was a long drive, we had few stops we talked a lot about so many things. He was my favourite for sure.

But the awesomeness that was happening before my eyes was simply stunning and made me speechless. I can assure you that none of my photos can make justice to all the places I’ve seen, and my words are not strong enough to describe it. But believe me when I tell you, I sure understand why so many people say this is the most beautiful part of Iceland.

Around 4 pm I was at my destination. I went to pitch my tent, slept for two hours, walked around the city for 3 more and then I was ready to call it a night. Little I knew I wasn’t prepared for the cold night (remember the part of me not buying a mattress) and so I could actually barley sleep. Up until the sun came around and warm my poor tent. And so I woke up at 9:30 am. And then things got a bit more worse than that…

– to be continued –

P.S. I will only post photos on Fb and IG.


8 hours, 6 cars




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