Distance: 46.68 miles

Time: 3:54:29

Average Speed: 11.9 mph

Elevation Gain: 886 feet

I was awoken early by commotion from the campsite pitches next to mine. The family who had arrived and set up their campervans while I was in the shower late the previous evening were on their way. After they’d left, I tried to get back to sleep, but my back had seized up during the night and I couldn’t get comfortable.

Luckily as I was in a bustling metropolis of, at least, 150 people, the town had its own municipal outdoor swimming pool, with a 15m pool and two hot tubs.

Stepping into the 40 degree hot tub was absolute bliss, instantly soothing my aching muscles. Better still, the hot tub had outstanding waterfall views, I had the whole place to myself, and there was free coffee on the way out!

After first breakfast in the campsite, I moved on to second breakfast at the petrol station, after too many burgers I opted for that other Icelandic delicacy, Schnitzel.

Rolling out onto the highway, it felt like the wind might actually be on my back for once. The feeling passed quickly, but it was nice while it lasted. The road undulated slightly, a high rocky escarpment providing the backdrop to the left, to the right it was pancake-flat as far as the eye could see.

Stopping at Foss a Sidu, I chatted to an Australian who was also following the Ring Road, but in the opposite direction, and on a long board, with walking poles and a sizeable rucksack. It had taken 30 days for him to get this far, and he expected it to take another 8.

The road swept down past the dramatic basaltic columns of Dverghamrar, followed by the icy thrust of Fossalar, before dropping onto the volcanic plains once more. The rocky escarpment to my left ended abruptly, to be replaced by the outer extremities of the Vatnajokull icecap. The road carved its way through the black desert in front of me, so there was nothing more to do but ride.

After miles and miles across the volcanic wasteland, the road veered left, heading straight for the Skaftafellsjokull glacier which had captured my attention for the last ten kilometres or more. Performing a pronounced u-turn in front of the glacier, the road tracked along the front of it, finally reaching the picturesque little hamlet of Svinafell.

Being only 7 pm, the night was young, but I had a reason to arrive here early. My friend had been in touch to tell me that his friend Dan (who we had previously enjoyed a canoeing trip down the Tweed with), was now living here, under 200 metres from the campsite.

After I’d showered, he popped over and we shared a beer. He’s an outdoor instructor and mountain guide, who has been working here – off and on – for the last 8 years, but living here permanently for 3 years. He was currently teaching groups glacier travel, and back in April had guided a 20 day expedition across the entire icecap. It was great to catch up with him, and such a pleasant surprise to see a familiar face in such an unfamiliar place.

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