Reykjavík Grapevine - 29.07.2016, Blaðsíða 56

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ÍSAFJÖRÐUR
ICELAND’S WESTFJORDS
ARE ONLY 40 MINUTES AWAY
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15

Kjölur is a long, dusty trail that
winds its way through the high
plains of Iceland's western high-
lands. It's a swerving route that
carves through vast swathes of
rough, rolling desert. Just ten
minutes after passing Gullfoss,
civilisation already feels far
away—a wide, chilly expanse of
dirt stretches out in all directions,
punctuated with jagged boulders,
gnarled, jutting outcrops and
patches of windblown shrubbery.
As the route slowly ascends
into the highlands, mountains
with irregular stripes of leftover
snow flank the road. To our left,
Langjökull (the "Long Glacier")
fills the horizon, surging gently
northwards, with several wide
glacier tongues spilling over from
from its mountain cradle. They
terminate in the lakes of Hagavatn
and Hvítárvatn, resulting in rivers
of grey-white meltwater that pour
down across the barren plains.
The road is rough, even in a tall
4x4 bus. Soon, the traffic thins to
nothing but the occasional jeep,
each one signalled by a plume of
approaching dust. We pull over to
take in the view, by a wonky wood-
en sign that’s jammed into the
ground. It has no markings on it at
all—either the words were worn
off by the elements, or they were
simply never there. “Welcome to
nowhere,” it seems to say.
Desert oasis
Our destination is Hveravellir,
a geothermal oasis in the des-
ert where boiling water breaks
through the surface, creating a
column of steam that can be seen
for miles around. Apparently, the
famous Icelandic bandit Eyvindur
and his wife Halla once spent the
winter hiding here—the small
cave they lived in sits nearby.
Today, Hveravellir is a campsite
with some lo-fi sleeping dorms
and bedrooms, a cosy café, and a
hot pot in which the boiling geo-
thermal water is mixed with cool
groundwater to create an idyllic
natural bathing pool.
The café has a quiet, domestic
atmosphere. It’s manned by seven
staff who clean, cook, serve food,
and field questions from camp-
ers: “Yes, sure, you can have some
hot water for tea. Sure, we have
a dorm bed available. No, there
aren't cooking facilities for camp-
ers, but you can use the big army
tent if you have a stove. Yes, I can
charge your phone. Yes, there’s a
bus to Reykjavík—it leaves around
midday."
Take thyme
Many of the questions are about
the three main hiking paths in the
area. The first is a short 2.5km stroll
around the geothermal area; the
second a 12km round trip to a large
crater named Strýtur. The third is
one section of a multi-day hike that
passes through Hveravellir.
The shortest route starts from
a walkway over the geothermal
area. There are several bright, al-
most luminous orange and green
fumaroles that pour out steam—
bubbling cauldrons of sapphire
blue water that occasionally erupt
and boil over like a knee-high gey-
ser, or green ponds that leak steam-
ing water down the slope, creating
delicate, layered mineral sculptures
that glitter in the sun. A white min-
eral stack called Öskurhóll vents
with such force that it sounds like a
jet engine. The steam has a pungent
sulphurous smell. I stand down-
wind, and the warm steam envelops
me completely. It feels like nothing
so much as a cleansing ablution for
atheists.
The onward path leads through
colourful rocks and undulating
green fields. I soon find a secluded
field of purple thyme, flowering
around a gently bubbling geother-
mal outlet. I sit down and take in
the sweet scent. The sun breaks
through the clouds, catching and
illuminating the blue-white ice
of Langjökull. The glacier looks
dazzling—brighter than the sky it-
Hveravellir Highlands
Welcome To Nowhere
An escape into the Icelandic highlands
Words & Photos JOHN ROGERS
The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 11 — 2016
56