Atlantica No. 4, 2010, July-August - Iceland Review

Design aTrekking is by far the best way to explore the Icelandicwilderness. Robin Vaughan-Williams writes abouthis trek to Innstidalur valley in the Hengillmountain range.The first time I came across Innstidalurvalley, it took my breath away. Nestledhigh up in the mountains, I felt like I’ddiscovered a hidden valley. Its broad, flat bottomwas carpeted in swathes of long grass, cut acrossby the loops of an interminably meanderingstream. It looked like the kind of place picnicswere made for.I’d been driving around for ages in search ofthe starting point for a walk that would take meup to Vörduskeggi, a summit over 800 m highin the Hengill mountain range, but had beenthrown off the scent by a large constructionsite and triangular warning signs right whereI’d been planning to go. Instead, I took a steeptrack up the side of a hill, which led to yet moredodgy tracks winding their way into a ruggedand altogether barren landscape.I had no idea where I was and had given uphope of finding my way to Vörduskeggi. Theseroads weren’t even on the map! There werelarge pipes running alongside the road, andevery now and then I’d pass a cluster of multifacetedpods that looked like nothing so much aslunar landing modules. As so often happens outin the Icelandic wilderness, I began to get thefeeling I was perhaps not on the same planet asthe one I had woken up on.Finally, the road came to an end at another ofthose lunar pods, surrounded by what seemedlike a vast empty car park, which had been mysteriouslysituated on top of a mountain. I walkedover to the edge and there it was laid out belowme—Innstidalur, my route to Vörduskeggi. Myonly problem was how to get down there; I wasstanding on top of a cliff.Vörduskeggi turned out to be the mostspectacular walk I have done within reachof Reykjavík. Because of its height, the sum-atlantica 59