The road is beyond bumpy, and the potholes are rocking us back and forth like we're sailing on rough seas. We haven't seen any cars for the last hour, concerning because it is high season and even though we are headed to the remote Highlands, this is a popular route. As we approach our fourth river, I'm reminded of the couple in the Kia Sportage we passed earlier who told us they didn't have the courage to cross, and I'm now wondering if the quintessential tourist white Dacia Duster is big enough. I can't tell if I am scared or excited, likely some potent combination of the two, and my girlfriend is currently wading across the glacial water with her pants rolled up to see if it is too deep. This is the road to Landmannalaugar and we didn't realize that the drive is part of the attraction.
The southern route, which the internet calls the shorter and more exciting of the two, we will learn means more unnerving and therefore, more fun. I'm eager because my first time here, my main goal was to drive around the island on the infamous and well trafficked ring road and didn't feel like a more serious vehicle was necessary. And even though that was a fantastic trip, I was still left with a nagging feeling that I had missed something special. An Icelandic man once said to me, “If you haven't spent time in the highlands, you haven't seen Iceland.”
The following morning, after a cozy night in our pop-up tent above the Duster, we debated between several shorter hikes or one long, more remote, with compelling cases for each. On this day, the weather was perfect, a gift given it can be hit or miss and anything above 59 Fahrenheit is considered a heat wave. After breakfast, coffee, and a late start we decided on a short multihike day, but while standing at the cross trail with arrows pointed in different directions, something told me to go deeper and we headed away from the popular route and into the backcountry. It took us about 6 hours to complete the loop and the huge multi colored and sometimes varied vistas did not disappoint. One thing for sure, the evening soak in the namesake hot river felt well earned.
The highlands base can only be reached by the infamous F-roads of Iceland which are open only in the summer, free of services, and composed mostly of loose dirt and rocks. Landmannalaugar, which translates to “the pools of the people,” is the setting for a camp in Fjallabak Nature Reserve at the edge of a lava flow. One traveller, fresh off a bus, described the ride as harrowing, saying it with a smile.
“If you haven't spent time in the highlands, you haven't seen Iceland.”
My girlfriend, on the ridge above camp
Not only was Landmannalaugar one of the most unbelievable and remote landscapes I had ever seen, but with its expansive and otherworldly surroundings… it was surreal. Whether it was the lake before the reserve entrance perfectly reflecting the beautiful hillside or standing on the ridge line overlooking miles of Tolkienesque nature, this is a place you need to see to believe. I'm here to tell you that some of the fantastical places you might have read about in story books really exist… the Highlands are one of them. That old Icelander was right with one small correction. If you haven't been to the highlands… you haven't felt Iceland.