Waking to the continuing sound of rain hitting the window and gusts of wind outside, shaking the lamp posts, I contemplated what to do. The weather forecast had an "orange" warning of heavy rain with risk of landslides and overwhelmed drainage systems, one grade short of "red". This was in addition to a "yellow" warning of winds up to gale force with strong gusts around mountains. Given the weather delay to the ferry until at least tomorrow I considered over breakfast what to do. In my planning my fallback had been a walk over the mountains to a town up the coast. There was fresh snow on the upper parts of the mountain slopes and the tops were in cloud. Given the conditions I felt it could not attempt this without spare clothing, trekking poles and the like, which would mean using my rucksack, which would get very wet. There was also a high probability that the gusts of wind would force me back. I decided on a modest, low level walk up the fjord to the campsite of Tunguskogur, where I had considered staying and where a long waterfall was in full flow down the hillside. Well made footpaths formed the trail, which followed and crossed man made embankments designed to contain or deflect avalanches from areas of housing. The pine trees in places possibly also helped to retain the snow. On a fine day there would be good views back to Ísafjörður, but today the rain, and my rain drop splattered glasses, helped obscure the town. The campsite, when I reached it, was partly cut off by flood damage to bridges across what would normally be a stream but was now much more powerful flow. For this reason, and a blocked toilet and occasional gusts of very strong winds that may have damaged my tent, I was glad I had not camped here. I was also glad I had not tried a more ambitious walk as the relentless wind driven rain was penetrating gaps in my waterproof armour and making my next layer distinctly damp.
After returning to Ísafjörður, after a coffee and pastry at what I had been told was Iceland's best bakery, I visited Borea Adventures again. There were concerns about rock falls on the trails on Hornstrandir following the heavy rain. I was to check in the morning to see when the ferry was going. It was suggested I might like to try the local swimming pool. Swimming pools, hot tubs and hot springs seem to be very much part of Icelandic life so I took up the suggestion. On removing my boots at the door and handing over my money I was reminded that a thorough shower in the nude was required before putting on my trunks and entering the pool. I completed twenty lengths of the 16 metre pool and then sat for a while in the hot tub watching people enjoy themselves.
Two restaurants I tried were fully booked so I settled for a burger joint. Not sure why there are so many people in town.
No comments:
Post a Comment