The boys and I woke up early under pleasant sunshine to prepare for our bus ride from Hella into the highlands of Iceland, where we would spend one night in our tents to explore the picturesque Landmannalaugar mountains, which over-saturated Instagram posts had made it the top location on my hiking list. We packed all of our sleeping bags into our trusted Ikea bag, stashed the food into my brown squared luggage and were ready for adventure. Much to our surprise, the Germans aboard the "Rollende Hotel" had already embarked on theirs, as only large tire marks from the iconic red bulky bus were still visible in the grass of where it once rested with marvelous grace.
After some of us foolishly attempted to sleep through the excessively bumpy ride along the dark lava fields neighboring the F208, only to be repeatedly woken up by the unnerving sensation of temporarily no longer feeling the bus seats beneath our butts, we eventually reached the camping ground of Landmannalaugar - materializing as a vast collection of colorful tents in the midst of vibrant mountain ranges, volcanic rock fields and long rivers flowing into hidden hot springs only discernible by the abandoned backpacks and clothes of the travelers who took refuge from the cold sharp winds in its warm waters.
We proceeded to find a cozy and comfortable patch of gravel and stones to build our two tents on, tying each end to a pile of rocks and replacing our now useless pegs with other rocks. Once we had convinced ourselves those rocks would do a solid job at keeping our tents from flying into the dramatic backdrop offered by the brightly-painted Laugahraun mountain, we prepared a bunch of sandwiches for the upcoming hike - one of our least favorite group activities, initially often tainted by disagreements over lacking or excessive Philadelphia cream cheese usage (which eventually resulted in my demotion to the packaging station), and only topped in misery by the daily consumption of said sandwiches.
The following 15km hike from Landmannalaugar's base-camp through the volcanic highlands of Skalli and Vörduhnúkur ranged from steep rocky ascents into its diversely colored mountains, to endlessly deserted and partially snow-covered plains, constantly surrounded by sporadically overgrown valleys and hills emerging in the distance, ultimately cumulating in one of the most unique and breath-taking landscapes I've ever experienced.
