Under a cloudy sky I walked across marshy land, avoiding a yellow summer house with "private" signs, to follow the path to Veiðileysa where my ferry would hopefully pick me up. Soon I was climbing up a succession of boulder strewn "steps", towards a high pass. On the other side of the pass, a view of Veiðileysufjörður opened out in front of me, an expanse of water enclosed by steep sides of ancient lava flows, stacked on top of each other, shaped into a fjord by some ice age glacier. The path was now indistinct, lost among boulder fields and patches of snow which made for slow progress. Aided by my GPS and stumbling over rocks I recovered the trail on lower ground where three fast flowing streams barred my way. There were stepping stones, many slightly underwater after recent rains and coated with moss, but using my trekking poles for balance and to provide support should my foot slip, I was able to safety cross without slipping or the long and cold performance of removing my boots and trousers and wading through.
Owing to an early start I had five hours to wait for the ferry, some of which I spent looking at the plants and flowers nearby, which included common spotted orchids and some small, delicate ferns. A few eider ducks passed by me on the fjord, otherwise there was little bird life, also surprisingly little flotsam left stranded on the beach, none of the plastic bottles and remains of fishing equipment you see in most places, just a few stranded jelly fish, mounds of seaweed and some scattered mussel shells. The facilities at my pick up point consisted of a latrine and a two signs, one with a picture of a boat. So I completed a few exercises, read my kindle and became increasingly cold. As the ferry time approached I was joined by a few others, reassuring me that I was at the right place.
Our boat ride back to Ísafjörður was rather more comfortable than the trip out, crossing calm waters without too much bouncing. With fewer people on board I was able to sit down in the cabin, watching the boat move across the map on the captain's Raymarine navigation system. We saw the glacier coming from the Drangajökull ice cap at the end of one fjord, the white ice merging with the white sky so parts of the black mountain seemed suspended in space. Now I am comfortably ensconced in my warm hotel after enjoying a hot shower and a dinner of cod and lentils, feeling slightly guilty as others on the boat were heading for a campsite.
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