It’s the last day. The universe understands how I am feeling, thinks it’s sad, and wraps us in a deep fog to match my mood this morning. The guides explain the schedule to me: jeep, walk, separation, walk, jeep, separation. Alain and Claude, the remaining clients, have another two weeks of trek remaining. Two weeks! At this precise moment, I’d give anything to go on with them…
In the jeep, they put on some Brel, but the combination of foggy landscape, gloominess, melancholy and Brel’s Vieux Amants is too much for a sensitive Owl, and when I hear the introductory notes of Ne me quitte pas, I ask with misty eyes if it’s possible to listen to something else, on account of imminent danger of pathetic sobs in the back of the jeep. Anything, says I. Maybe some Abba, that would be quite safe.
They swiftly change the music to something neutral, my eyes dry themselves, everything is fine, drama narrowly averted.
Owl, says I, really, you shouldn’t traumatize those poor guides who are so nice with you! Keep yourself together for once!!
But don’t worry, dear reader, my usual euphoric joy came back quickly when we started walking. I love mist so much, its mystery, the vague shapes appearing in the distance or looming at any turn, the muffled silence surrounding us… After a long climb where névés were standing out in the soft greyness of the fog as if they were big white ghosts on the black ground, Yoan stops, waits for us, and declares: “Here is one of my favorite views of all Iceland.”
We laugh. The fog is so dense that we barely see each other, and I hadn’t even noticed that we were on the top of something!
We go on. The fog lifts with the advancing morning, and at lunch time it’s raining and we eat under the shelter of a rock.
Not under a névé, it’s very dangerous !
Yoan takes us to a natural hot spring, so out of the way that only guides and locals know about it.
The guys jump into it. Without me, I don’t have the heart to remove my clothes and put on my wet swimsuit… And you may have noticed on the pictures of this trip, it’s quite difficult to find a place to hide and change when you are a shy Owl… you have to walk miles and miles!!! Anyway, I know I must go in one hour, so it seems a lot of effort to go into something so weird.
Oh yes, there is also the fact that the spring looks like that….
Spooky!
Already the time to say goodbye to Yoan, Guillaume, Alain and Claude is there, and the long journey back begins, accompanied by Ben the Belgian.
The fog has completely dissolved by now, the heavy rain clouds had drifted far away, and the sun is shining: the view Yoan talked about in the misty morning appears in all its glory.
No picture can do it justice…
Inexorably, we go on. Here is the jeep, and Quentin who brings us back to camp, but already, I have to say goodbye to Quentin, Viktor, the jeep, the camp, and to go into the bus to Reykjavik.
Ben (the Belgian) stays with me, and he’s nice, he shows me a place where Walter Mitty has been filmed, and offers me a weird-tasting Icelandic beverage, but before I know how, I am at my hotel and I have to say goodbye to Ben, the Belgian.
In my hotel room, it’s time to remove my magical gaiters: the adventure is at its end. I have to change back into everyday Owl. And to do that, I’ll need a good long shower…
Next day, it breaks my heart and tears my soul to fly away from the island, without visiting any more of it: after all I came, I saw the Door of Hell, checked if it was closed, and left…