Over the course of the next few weeks, I’ll be posting a tastefully-edited version of the journal I kept during the time I spent in Iceland. You can find all the entries and more on the “Iceland Transcribed” page.
Portugal and I left the hostel at about 9am. Since he is very quiet and awkward, and I am very quiet and awkward, not a lot of conversation happened, which is okay.
Sulur is a grueling hike, more so than Esja. It was only five kilometers to the summit, but we had to wade through mud, cross no less than four streams,and walk across patches of snow. As Portugal said at the top, “That was the best and worst five kilometers I have ever done.”
But what a view!
From the summit, we could see all of Akureyri, down to the end of the fjord where the channel met with the Arctic ocean. We could see the southern peak, although we were too tired to make the extra climb. As it was, I fell twice on the way down. No injuries, I was just worn out and off balance, trying to navigate an incline that was much steeper than anything I was used to. Back at the hostel, I checked to see how far we had gone: 10.3 miles, or 18.5 kilometers.
I’m just happy it didn’t rain.
I had planned on showering, eating, and taking a nap, but Toronto, the woman from yesterday, had other ideas. She wanted company as she sorted her receipts, so I joined her at the hostel bar.
As we waited for my burger, she jokingly asked if I wanted to help her. I don’t think either of us expected me to say yes. She bought me a beer during happy hour and I sorted out and added up her receipts. Easiest beer ever.
Toronto is trying to convince me that actual camping is going to save me a lot of money, as well as hitchhiking. She’s right, but… I’m not sure. Although there may be some truth to the camping bit.
She wants to see the fireworks tonight. I’m already about to fall asleep, but I guess there’s no harm in going hard for a day. Besides, I’m still hungry…