Well, the wind and rain continued through the night (earlier the campsite had a nice fire going in a little wooded glade, it was nice – but the wind was whipping the fire up). I woke early, fearing bad weather in which to pack up, ready for the 9:20 bus. With coffee, and filter, supplies running low – I opted for porridge only, banking on coffee in the N1 cafe. Everything was wet, but packed up without too much trouble and in plenty of time. I got to the N1 (and bus stop) an hour early – only to find the cafe didn’t open until 9:00, so a cold wait for 40 minutes. Two ladies were dropped off at the bus stop, which looked promising. I was able to grab a takeaway coffee at 9, and get myself in position at the bus stop (although I proved it is impossible to push a loaded bike, and carry a hot coffee!).

The rugged coach appeared on the horizon a few minutes early, with just a father with two small girls onboard, and a driver who instantly reminded me of the Megabus man. My bike went in the boot (in the side at the back), quite a big space but not enough\n to put the bike in upright or the door wide enough to go in sideways. The bottom sloped, to give ground clearance to the bus, and I had to post the bike in backwards- which was tricky as I’d left the tent on the back. The driver said to pack the panniers under the bike to protect t it from the bumps. During the journey I remembered that I’d put the rear derailleur downwards – and as the route got bumpier I wondered how it would fair. I had to pay 4000 extra for the bike (on top of 9000 for me paid online).

The trip was extraordinary, I was picked up at Varmahlid at 9:20, and we were due into Geysir at 16:30 – 7 hours and well over 200 km, all on unsurfaced roads. The route is the F35, otherwise known as the Kjolur Route – which I think is the oldest, and certainly the easiest route across the Highlands. Nowadays, the N1 ring road is probably twice the distance but much quicker, but before the car this crossing would be much quicker. The six of us settled down for the journey, but it was impossible to ignored the landscape, so the cameras came out. Pictures I took out the side window gradually came more and more blurred, as the window got dirty, and dirty from the mix of dust, rain and spray from puddles and fords.

What was good, and unexpected, was the driver stopped frequently at high points and other points of interest for 5 minute photo stops. This was in addition, to some scheduled longer stops at remote attractions. It was also interesting to see where the refuge points were, and what they would be like. The first was Afangi (50km from the road), which was a collection of huts well back from the F35. There was a well wrapped up person standing at the end of the drive with a wheelbarrow of bags. The bus stopped to pick them up – I think it may have been rubbish.

The first main stop was Hveravellir (a further 40km), a collection of huts, a cafe, a rather scary airstrip and the most amazing boardwalk through a variety of bubbling and steaming geothermal pools and stacks. Incredible in such a remote place. There was enough time for a coffee in the rather nice cafe hut. We picked up quite a few passengers here, who I think had been staying in the huts.

We then took a detour to Kerlingarfjoll, which is a mountain resort. To get there the coach had to cross a rather alarming ford, which was directly upstream of a massive waterfall, we only crossed a side branch – but all the same! Most of the additional passengers got off here, and we picked up a few more.

We retraced our route, the waterfall crossing was no less spectacular in the opposite direction.

There were a few minor stops for photos, or to keep to schedule, but the next big stop was Gullfoss. Gullfoss is an absolutely massive waterfall, over a number of drops – it then disappears into a rock gully crossing the bottom. What was also very impressive, was the shear number of noisy Americans who cannot enjoy this sort of thing without giving everybody a running commentary, and the toilets at 200 ISK entry!

I was quite pleased to get off the bus, although it would be tarmac from now on, as the last of the unsurfaced road was really like washboard. I’d feared it on a bicycle, but it was really bad in the coach with everything vibrating and shaking around. I think it is worse at the south end, due to the increased numbers of tourists here, who realise their vehicles are not up to it and turning back. In general the road was much tougher than I imagined, with some very slow rocky bits and a very few small fords. You certainly couldn’t do it in a normal car. At a few points even the jacked up coach grounded out. Also there was lots of work being done on the track (I don’t think it has been open long this year), where they plane off the top and then lay very fine black sand (dug right near the work), seem to soak it with water and drive over it with caterpillar tracks. On one new section the coach got stuck, and struggled to reverse out, and took two or three goes to clear it – it was hard for him to build enough speed to clear the whole loose section – but it shows what can happen!

We did pass some cyclists, a group of 4 or 5, well wrapped up and pushing up a very steep bit, and a couple on a tandem – the stoker didn’t look like a hardcore adventure cyclist, being a large middle aged Asian lady – they certainly still had a long way to go.

Onto Geysir, and the anticipation of whether my gears were still attached to the bike – they were fine. It was a struggle getting the bike out – in hindsight I should have taken everything off the rack, but it came out eventually.

There was plenty of steaming visible from the geyser area, but I decided to pitch my tent – the campsite is next to the geysers. By the time I walked back the bus was still there on one of its scheduled breaks. I realised I had only eaten a packet of biscuits and a packet of nuts since porridge time so I braved the Geysir food court. Geysir advertises shopping, but only if you are in the business for an expensive jumper! A terrible burger, chips, a yogurt and a beer – 2000isk, but I was hungry.

Then out to see the Geysers – an impressive array of bubbling and steaming pools, but everyone is here to see the two geysers. The main one is Geysir, it’s the biggest at up to 50m, but only goes off around 3 times a day (or maybe not), the other is Strokkur. This goes off every 7 to 12 minutes (if you are to believe the Americans who have to give a loud running commentary), and reaches uptown 20m. It’s impressive, you can see a big bubble coming up just before it goes. I saw, maybe 10 occurrences – some big, others smaller. On one occasion it went 3 times in quick succession, and they were all quite large – so definitely random. I stood by Geysir for a while in hope, but had to give in before the geyser.

I was still hungry, and with no proper shop found myself back in the food court. I was hoping to watch the Iceland Vs Croatia match, but the TV screens resolutely continued to show the (very) basic workings of a geyser. The match was on in the “drivers and guides” room, but I didn’t have the cheek to go in. Anyway I found a plug, a better cold pasta dish and a beer so I was happy.

I really was tired, I think the previous two nights of storms, plus the long bumpy bus journey had worn me out. I had a quick lie down in the tent at 8:30pm, and the next I know it’s 7:00am – I was tired!