📍 ///enclosures.denture.bathwater
The night was incredibly clear: a sky dotted with stars, with no light pollution for miles around. If I'd had a little more energy, I could have enjoyed it more. In any case, it promised to be a beautiful day.
In the morning, tent folded, we begin the ascent of Bláhnúkur, the "black mountain." A peak with a breathtaking panorama... especially towards the southeast where, as the ranger had warned: "Rain is coming." Three days of rain are forecast for the region and the south. Not ideal when you have to cross a dozen rivers. The prospect of getting stuck or hiking in torrential rain makes us cut short. Brennisteinsalda, the "colorful mountain," will be for another time.
Despite everything, we indulge in our daily Icelandic ritual: an hour in the hot river. This time, the water is so scalding hot that we have to take refuge under the brand new pontoon to find a bearable temperature.
Before the rain, I want to check two more things:
1️⃣ The little refuge we found in 2016 – faithful to the post.
2️⃣ The F235, a track leading to a lake lost in the heart of the mountains. But then, rain and fog set in. It's impossible to see anything, and the rivers are starting to swell. We turn around and leave the reserve via the F208 south.
The track is hell: gaping holes, repeated bumps, each pothole avoided immediately replaced by another, more violent one. Eventually, you feel as if your wheel is going to go through the hood. Your nerves are put to the test.
Finally, we reach Kirkjubæjarklaustur. The campsite is soaked, and our spirits are a bit low. We finish the day with freeze-dried gratin dauphinois (not exactly a morale booster, but it fills you up) and blueberry soup (surprising, but not unpleasant). Let's just say it does the job. Tomorrow will be another day.
Kirkjubæjarklaustur, despite its unpronounceable name, is an important place in Icelandic history. Its name means "the convent of the church farm": it was indeed a 12th-century Benedictine abbey. The site is surrounded by legends: it is said that a nun was condemned there for misconduct, and that after her repentance, miraculous footprints were left engraved in the rock. The present-day village is also sadly known for having been the refuge of survivors during the eruption of Laki in 1783, a volcanic disaster that shocked all of Europe.
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