Distance: 48.08 miles

Time: 4:27:06

Average Speed: 10.8 mph

Elevation Gain: 1,301

As I went for my shower at 10 o’clock this morning, I noted the fact that it hadn’t been any darker when I’d cooked my dinner at midnight the night before. It was a fairly grey day. Following the shower, I spotted a pop-up cafe in an old school bus just beside the site, so went to check it out. Their sole food provision consisted of bagels, so one peanut butter and Nutella bagel it was, and a latte, then I headed back to the tent for some porridge.

Vik had seemed like a nice little town when I’d swept down into it the night before, so I decided to have a look around before moving on. I struggled up the hill to the quaint church, a great viewpoint for the area, before heading down to Reynisfjara black sand beach, where a group were horse riding across the sand. The horses they were riding were Icelandic horses, apparently the purest breed in the world as they were brought by the Vikings in the 9th century, and no other horses have been imported since.

After a third breakfast – of a giant pastry from the shop – I finally felt ready for today’s proceedings, it was 4 pm. Nothing else for it, it’d be a late one again. As I pedalled off, I lamented the lateness of the hour, but at least I wasn’t the only one travelling around late in the day. At half past 7 the previous evening – at the Skogafoss Hotel – I’d overheard an American couple discussing how far they still had to drive to make their accommodation for the night; 3 and a half hours… It felt like a lot of the other road users were also struggling to keep up with hire car itinerary mileages of up to 300 km a day. Now that sounded like a feat of endurance!

I knew that there wouldn’t be much in the way of facilities for the next 45 miles, but there wasn’t much of anything else either. It was 45 miles of long straight roads across different textures of lava fields. After 16 miles I was excited because someone had been generous enough to put in a picnic bench sheltered by some bushes, and after 27 miles I was even more excited that they’d provided a toilet facility in the middle of a volcanic desert.

As I pushed on for the last 15 miles, it started to drizzle, and a bleak day became yet more bleak. Arriving in the pleasant little hamlet of Kirkjubaejarklaustur, at half past 9 in the evening, I concluded that much as the map suggested, it really was two nice little places with nothing much inbetween. But, I’m fast approaching the Eastern fjordlands so the road may not stay flat for long…

Distance: 63.61

Time: 5:31:38

Average Speed: 11.5 mph

Elevation Gain: 1,290 feet

Yesterday had been tough, in the post-match analysis, I knew I hadn’t eaten enough, some porridge, soup and an apple tart was unlikely to fully recuperate the 5,500 calories I’d been expending. I’d been caught out thinking that the pleasant amble in the sunshine would continue and when the bitterly-cold energy-sapping headwind came along, I was ill prepared. I knew that Iceland had some lengthy stretches without facilities, I would have to start carrying more food. But not food that required cooking, I don’t remember ever having the patience to whip out my stove to help me deal with a challenging last 20 miles of the day when the weather has turned bad.

It took me a long time to get going this morning. I was awake, but still recovering some energy for the day ahead. I was focussed on making improvements to my setup that would help the cycling part of each day go more smoothly. Most important in that was sorting out my bike position, I’d ridden the last 30 miles of the previous day on the handlebar drops – because the other positions were too high – so I flipped the stem so that it angled downwards and lowered the handlebars as far as they’d go, definite improvement.

I stopped by the supermarket for some supplies, then, as it was now so long since I’d had breakfast, I popped back into Grill 66 for another burger. In my defense, there wasn’t really anywhere else…

Leaving Hella around 2, I knew that I needed to get my head down, but I was comfortable with that. Up until now the cycling had felt more like an impediment to my sight-seeing, as opposed to my reason for being here. The cloud was down and visibility was poor, but the road was pan flat and I soon covered the 8 miles to Hvolsvollur. It had been my intended campsite for the previous night, so I was glad to see that it had even fewer facilities than Hella, It had been a good decision to finish when I did.

Stopping only briefly to sort my saddle position to match my handlebars, I kept pushing on, reaching Seljalandsfoss, I was tempted to pedal on past to save the short detour, but it was one of the very few sights I was actually aware of in Iceland, ‘the waterfall you can walk behind’. Already cold and wet from wearing too many layers to counter the chilling wind and moist air, I opted to change into some dry clothes, instead of creating new wet ones by running under a waterfall, but it did make a great spectacle.

Visibility was poor – as I was enveloped by cloud – but I could feel that the landscape around me was becoming more interesting, with large rock formations dotting the landscape, the backdrop had become more rugged. Mercifully the road continued unchallenged below, straight and flat and true.

Next on the tourist trail was Skogafoss waterfall, after 40 miles, and once again it was a short distance off the road but its quality looked sufficient to warrant a stop. As usual, I elicited surprised reactions from the powered vehicle travellers – because I’d shown up on a bike – and this time even more so as some of them had just seen me at the previous waterfall. I know I’m doing well when I’m ticking off tourist attractions as quickly as those driving!

Although it was now almost 8 o’clock and I still had 18 miles to go, I was determined not to repeat the previous night’s mistakes, so I opted for a proper meal at the Skogafoss hotel. Keen to avoid another burger, I ordered Vegetable Lasagna. It had run out and the other prices were eye-watering, one lamb burger please…

Leaving Skogafoss at half 8, conditions were bleak and the landscape matched, but then at 55 miles and approaching 10 o’clock, the road – which had only just reached the south coast – was turning inland and climbing over the coastal range. A hill, this would be interesting, the road had been pan flat all day.

Luckily the gradient was kind and I relished the challenge, cresting the top to find a glorious 10 percent descent down into the valley on the other side. Scanning the path of the road across the valley floor, it looked like the road forced its way upwards using a giant switchback at the far side. Surely not… But, sure enough. As I passed the 12 percent for 1 km sign, I scoped out the very steep section of road, and cursed my luck at encountering it at 10’clock at night. Then, upwards I went, and conserving as much energy as I could, I kept an eye on other road users approaching – so that I could zig-zag my way up the steep gradients.

Over the top, I was now on a high plateau, gradually climbing higher towards a col on the horizon that would lead me to a steep descent into Vik, and with mountains all around, and clear bright skies, it was then that I really began to enjoy cycling in Iceland.

Distance: 65.74

Time: 5:43:47

Average Speed: 11.5 mph

Elevation Gain: 1,928 feet

So it’s pretty hot in Iceland, which pretty much renders half a pannier of my stuff redundant, but I guess that may change down the road! It certainly makes packing in the morning painful, but I did try and leave the campsite a little earlier. Rolling out of the gate at 9:40, I made it 100 yards before I had my first stop of the day; to see the geyser at Geysir, and not Geysir as you’d expect, but Stokkur, as it’s much more tourist friendly. Conveniently erupting every five minutes, almost frequently enough for the endless stream of tourists.

Breaking one of my golden rules of cycle touring, I took a 12 mile out and back detour to see Gullfoss waterfall, I think it was probably worth it, but I’ll let you judge for yourselves…

Quickly wolving down an excellent piece of toffee and apple tart, I turned back in the direction of Geysir once more, being dismayed that the onwards junction was another 3 miles further still. Setting off along a pan flat valley, on the bearing I’d be headed for the next 30 miles, I was mightily disheartened to encounter a stiff headwind, it was bound to disrupt proceedings…

Reaching the Fludir turn off, I carried on into Reykholt instead as I’d been recommended Fridheimar, an organic farm shop for a farm that grew tomatoes, and that’s what they sold. My lunch consisted of tomato soup with a herb ciabatta, tomato cheesecake, and an iced tomato latte. It was all good but the tomato cheesecake was amazing, the tomato element being a compote on the top.

Backtracking slightly and making for Fludir, I couldn’t resist the temptation to hunt for the secret lagoon while I was there. Having found it, I spent a blissful 45 minutes in the naturally heated water, a boiling spring cascading into the pool at the far side.

With over 30 miles to go, I clearly wasn’t too worried about time at this point, and for the first 5 miles I enjoyed the pleasant valley views.

But, the chilling headwind sapped my strength and I started to flag in the early evening gloom. After 20 long miles, I finally reaching the junction with route 1 (I was officially joining the ring road, it was now one road all the way to Reykjavik). I was dismayed to see that it was still 12 miles to Hella where I hoped to get some dinner. Powering on as best I could with dwindling energy levels, I finally saw the tell-tale neon sign of a petrol station shining like a beacon in the distance. I hadn’t reached Hella yet, but it would have to do!

Deciding to make for the campsite at Hella, I arrived at the location the entrance appeared to be on Google Maps, but if it had been a campsite, it wasn’t any more. Now 9 o’clock, I resigned myself to having to cover the 8 miles to Hvolsvollur before I would find home for the night. But, having stopped by the Hella petrol station – hoping another Countryman burger would start to close down the day’s calorie deficit – I started to make my way out of town and quickly found a sign to the campsite, I’d be staying in Hella after all.. And, as I pedalled the last stretch towards the row of campers on the horizon, I was extremely relieved to be done for the day.

Distance: 63.33 miles

Time: 5:48

Average Speed: 11.5 mph

Elevation Gain: 2,481 feet

Campsite Etiquette; not something I’ve considered much in all my years of camping – other than don’t pinch other people’s stuff and say hello as you walk past people in the site – but yesterday I found I was wrong, there are plenty of unwritten rules I try and follow and now I know what some of those are!

The key ones are: 1) in a large scarcely populated campsite, don’t pitch your tent within a metre of someone else, so close that you hit their tent with your poles when dismantling; and, 2) if someone has positioned their tent beside a picnic bench which they intend on using, don’t move said picnic bench over beside your own tent and leave all your possessions all over it!

I would add: if you’re a large group in a large empty campsite planning to build a large party tent and stay up half the night, try not to camp next to other tents, but that’s more of a guideline! Of course, I’m probably just being unreasonable…

Unfortunately, this morning I was delayed in starting as I didn’t have a picnic bench beside my tent to cook my breakfast and pack my kit on. So, it was half past 12 before I finally got my act together and pedalled out of the site. The route followed some quiet roads, my loaded touring bike feeling like home as I hit an excellent network of cycle paths to head out of the city.

Starting to feel peckish – as it’d been a long time since breakfast – I came across a Grill 66 burger bar at a petrol station. I had high hopes for the petrol station restaurants as I’d read good things!

Opting for their Countryman burger I was pleasantly shocked! It was probably one of the best flavour combinations I’d ever had on a burger, so I tracked down the ingredient list as a reference!

I soon turned onto highway 36 and started the golden circle proper. A two-lane road with a good surface, it rose gradually beside a mountainous backdrop. Soon the landscape opened out and the endless horizons reminded me of those I’d encountered in the far north of Scotland on LEJOG.

Suddenly I encountered loose stones on the road, lots of loose stones, and I was to encounter long stretches like that for much of the ride. Slightly concerning when I opted for road tyres for this route, if stretches like this continue I’ll be getting punctures in my brand new tyres in under a week!

After miles of gently rolling hills over a vast plateau, I started to drop down towards Lake Thingvellir, then suddenly emerged at Pingvellir. Walking up to an obvious viewpoint and not too sure what to expect, Lake Thingvellir provided a stunning backdrop to the obvious centrepiece, a huge plate rift just below and stretching as far as the eye could see. Just as I was heading back down the ramp, 5 coaches arrived in convoy, a Viking tour group, I made a beeline for the cafe before they arrived.

I was only just half way, but with the long stretch round to the the side of the lake out of the way, the road flattened and I started to put in some miles. Making a brief stop at another petrol station shop later, I had 20 miles to go, then I really got my head down.
I’d been estimating that it might be 9 before I made camp for the evening, but then, at 20:15, I saw a sign reading 5 km to Geysir. 20 minutes to run it I thought, but I’m not that much quicker cycling. I was very pleasantly surprised when the campsite came into view and being only half past 8, it felt like I’d gained some of my evening back!