Autumn. It was cold in the night. Hornstrandir is packed in clouds, only Einbúi is let out for a moment. I begin with Thoreau's Walden while I wait for the tent to dry a bit.
The plan to camp one more night before Grunnavík is replaced with a plan to return to civilization as soon as possible and to make day tours from there.
Light drizzle, nothing gets any drier. Again the inner tent has to be taken down and packed separately.
Giant mountains by the trail are partly hidden in clouds and make a human seem totally insignificant. Before Grunnavík I meet six hikers who are circling this peninsula here and say that there was nobody in Grunnavík. As long as I know there should be an accommodation with food option so I understand this information my way. But there's really nobody in the village. At all. The house that is supposed to offer services is locked and the other houses have mostly their windows closed. A deserted world. First I intend to squat a balcony but then stay on grass. Sun comes out, there’s one wave on the beach.
The desertedness would not be a problem, only that I'm running out of food. I didn't reckon with leaving the boat so soon and that I can't get even cookies in Grunnavík. Where are now these Icelandic teachers who had too much food? Make food inventory, I will not starve. Besides, a big part of plants here are good for eating.
I sit a bit on the beach then read. A perfect place where to read Walden and Civil Disobedience.
The ferry arrives and brings five hikers. They head towards Höfðaströnd in two groups without coming near the houses. I watch them through binoculars and feel like the village ghost.
A sparrow comes to visit me. Laundry is dry at last.
Light drizzle, nothing gets any drier. Again the inner tent has to be taken down and packed separately.
Giant mountains by the trail are partly hidden in clouds and make a human seem totally insignificant. Before Grunnavík I meet six hikers who are circling this peninsula here and say that there was nobody in Grunnavík. As long as I know there should be an accommodation with food option so I understand this information my way. But there's really nobody in the village. At all. The house that is supposed to offer services is locked and the other houses have mostly their windows closed. A deserted world. First I intend to squat a balcony but then stay on grass. Sun comes out, there’s one wave on the beach.
The desertedness would not be a problem, only that I'm running out of food. I didn't reckon with leaving the boat so soon and that I can't get even cookies in Grunnavík. Where are now these Icelandic teachers who had too much food? Make food inventory, I will not starve. Besides, a big part of plants here are good for eating.
I sit a bit on the beach then read. A perfect place where to read Walden and Civil Disobedience.
The ferry arrives and brings five hikers. They head towards Höfðaströnd in two groups without coming near the houses. I watch them through binoculars and feel like the village ghost.
A sparrow comes to visit me. Laundry is dry at last.
Add a comment