The Great Outdoors - UK (2021-08)

the freezing water seepingin. But there

was a simple pleasure in being entirely

self-sufficient.

Our route took us across a vast wild

landscape. We’ddecided on a circular walk

that would take fivedays and cover upto

20km (12 miles) each daywith 1000m

(3280 feet) of ascent. Each of us would be

carrying a 15-20kg pack and we would

have to interpret tide timetables – some

areas were uncrossable at high tide. e

trek included bagging the famous ‘Horn’,

the most northerly point in Iceland.

at would be followed by a hike from

Hornvik to Fljotavatn and over to our

most westerly point, Latravig.

Was the highlightskirting past the

Hornbjarg cliff, where thousands of sea

birds were circling above us? Or was it the

novelty of walking back fromthe beach to

the latrines installed in ‘campsites’across

the peninsula, each triangular structure

standing proudly in a meadow offlowers?

Perhaps it was watching the sun very

slightly dipping in the sky at midnight on

our final evening in Latravik? Or maybe

it was the magic of being present in this

wonderfully otherworldly place, while

several ofour group wentexcitedly off to

uncover the abandonedradar station built

in 1953 by the American army on the top

of Straumnesall?ese were all fleeting

moments – some captured, some stored

in our minds – but each was as vivid as the

flora blooming at our feet.

CAUGHT ON CAMERA

Lying back against the sand dunes atthe end

of the trip, fatigue settling in, wewatchedas

half-formedwispy clouds danced across the

tops of the hills, moving too quickly to be

distinguishableas anything in particular.

I felt that familiar urge todocumentthe

moment, but caught myself.

Iceland had been every bit as

photogenic as I’dfeared. Twoweeks

had filled two memory cards atan

alarming rate with huge RAWfile

photographs. e first week had oen

involved photographing places that

were part of every visitor’s‘tick list’of

natural landmarks, oen popularised

by Instagram, fantasy TVshows and

American popstars.

ese places felt crowded with

fellow tourists and the photographs

we took – simply to prove we had been

to them – seemed devoid ofemotion

and uniqueness. But on backpacking

expeditions like this one, I reflected,

contentment is about much more than

the instant, dopamine-fuelled pleasure

of postingpictures online. It’saboutthe

enjoyment ofa life stripped back, eating

outdoors, spending time with friends

everyday and taking the time to really

revel in the vast, natural landscape. Taking

in views of hundred-foot cliffs and rare

nesting sea birds circling above arctic

meadow flowers in bloom, we were oen

reminded ofour remote location.

On those dunes at the end of the

trip,I fully appreciated the triumph

of completing of our expedition. We

had walked every day fortwo weeks,

cramming nearly 200km (124 miles) into

multi-day expeditions through a post-

volcanic landscape, viewing mountains

and coastal landscapes only visible to

those travelling onfoot.

Wewatched as tiny, dark-haired fox

cubs trotted round the nearbycampsite

and saw aseal perched on a rounded rock.

anks to backpacking, I was learning

to find a formof contentment that relied

simply onexperiencing the wonders of

Iceland first-hand. Mycamera stayed in

the bag.

Crossing a snowy patch

with the fjords and mountains

rising from the sea

“We could count on our hands

the number of people we had

bumped into. This felt like a

precious landscape, relatively

untrodden and a far cry from the

honeypots of south Iceland.”

64 The Great OutdoorsAugust 2021