Bíldudalur – Reykjavik
It’s time to finish this story…
As I was saying last time, I was dropped off at the intersection of route 60 with 63. And to my surprise, there were some cars actually going my way but none of them picked me up. And then nothing.. for like 15 minutes no cars. And so I was walking by the side of the road, laughing again like a crazy person.. and trying to see if I could actually pitch my tent somewhere if in one hour nobody will pick me up.
And as I was keeping my mind busy with figuring out what should be my backup plan, my hero stopped. With a 4X4 kind of car, you know.. the one that has wheels as big as I am. No joke. And he was going in the same city I was trying to get to. We started talking and he told me he was born and raised in that city. He told me about his childhood, about the rough winters, how now that he lives in the South of Iceland he misses the mountains. We talked, and talked, and talked.. and while the road was crazy dangerous, being high up or just few centimeters close to the edge of a the cliffs,he was perfectly calm being used with the road. Around the sunset time we got to the city.
I walked a bit to find my hostel, and after some misunderstanding and waiting, I finally got into my room. I was shivering, even after I took a cold shower. Boy, was I happy I didn’t stayed in a tent that night! I ate really quickly and fell asleep earlier than 10 pm.
Next day I woke up around 7. Around 8 I was ready to leave. Didn’t want to stay any longer because I assumed it’s gonna be a long way until I get to Reykjavik. Little I knew that on a Saturday morning nobody would be awake. So I started walking… and no cars, zero, nada, niente.. nothing was driving my way. Or any way for that matter. It was just me and some birds. Birds that actually attacked me. In a flashback I was reminded about my first horror movie I ever watched when I was still a kid: The Birds (1963). It wasn’t quite like that, but still.. good thing I’m short. One of them came three times really close to my head. That was a good scare, I have to admit.
And so I walked for like one hour and half.. thinking that if I get to the airport I might take the plane.. That was me giving up. Because it’s one thing when cars don’t pick me up, but as long as they are keep on coming I still have a chance. So no car was really not a good sign. I was already too far away to go back but I regretted my stupid idea of starting it so early in the morning. I knew there was a natural spring somewhere, but I didn’t know how much I actually walked so if I was any way close to it.
Just about when I was planning to have a break and stop for a while, a car came. I was saved.. not. It didn’t stop. I mean, come on! I blame the movies for this. I would have imagined the first car will see me and take me with them. Didn’t even care where at that point. I think I walked probably more than 5 km.
And then the second car came, and they stopped. An Icelander and a French girl. They drove me all the way to Flókalundur from where she was going to take a ferryboat. Uhm, it costs around 5000 ISK (38 Euro) and from there I should have still hitchhiked my way to Reykjavik. So I said, no.. and continued my way on route 60. I think I walked around 5 km more.. being harassed by flies and the burning sun. One million cars passed and nobody would pick me up. But since the weather was good, I was back at being in a good mood. Also, I was in no hurry since it was a little after 11:00.
And finally a car stopped. An Icelander couple, a little over their 40s. They were going all the way to Reykjavik but they would stop along the way to one of their friends. Didn’t matter for me. It was a good break.. to rest my legs. So half an hour later I was again alone on the road. And so I started walking, but 30 minutes later they picked me up again. This time, destination Reykjavik. We made one stop in Búðardalur where we had ice-cream. And I actually napped at some point in the car. Since the sky was clear and the sun was shining we actually saw the glacier from Snæfellsness. Lovely view, my camera was still dead, so no photos of that. And the entire time the fjords were incredible, just stunningly beautiful something I don’t even know how to describe.
And so around 4 or 5 pm I was in Reykjavik. Back to the windy and nasty weather. Even with my pain in the legs, nose burnt and basically being exhausted.. I was happy. Because that’s what traveling does to you, helps your soul to settle and to stopped struggling.
To sum up my weekend in Westfjords: 1000 km, 3 days, 14 cars, 2 new bruises, one pair of shoes completely destroyed, a new one gotten for free and a life lesson to keep it with me forever.
P.S. Hopefully later this week I will start writing about my trip to the North.