I doubled down on the hot tub today. Is sitting in a mouldy cooking pot all day a good idea? Don’t know, don’t care. The important thing is that as long as I’m in the pot, I don’t have to think about the horrible climb back out of this place.
I meet a hitchiker from China. He is studying Polish for fun, and is in Iceland because when your study course in Poland cancels on you, a remote hot tub on a desolate wasteland of a country is the next best thing.
I also meet an American who let’s me in on odd bargain in Iceland; Red Bull. I make a note to buy some. I tell him my little shopping pro-tip; Pringles. The extra big cans only cost $2 AUD and I buy them whenever I can even though they don’t fit inside my panniers. I lash them to the top of the panniers instead and pretend my bike is a Calliope (look it up), ready to launch delicious salty treats upon the many sheep I pass.
Eventually it gets kind of dark so I drag my pruned and well cooked body out of the tub and get ready to leave.
The hill back up isn’t so bad, maybe a good cooking helps the muscles? Part way up the American drives past and laughs when he realises I was serious about the Pringles.
No reindeer on the way back, and with no wind to speak of I charge through the highlands and back down to civilization. Just past Hengifoss there is an alternate path back to Egilsstaðir. It is gravel, but gives me some new sights to see. The forest on the other side of the lake was old and felt natural, here I felt like I was riding through a plantation. After sighting egilsstaðir on the other side of the lake I call it a night and fall asleep amongst 2 metre high pines.
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