Volcanoes

I have been camping solo in Iceand for the last six days! I have been moving up the west coast to find someone they call the Snaefellsnes wool woman. It has taken me longer than I thought to find her, but  am finally camped near her farm, next to a horse barn that has internet.

These five days have been the most intense camping I think I have ever done. It took me a while in Reykjavik to make sure I had all the right gear for the wind. I have been ‘wildcamping,’ which allows me total freedom choosing where to sleep, which I love.

I came expecting natural beauty, but what I have seen, and spent the night with, is unike anything I have ever seen before. It is a raw, prehistoric beauty that humbles me to the very core. I can’t try to relate to it, but rather feel like the respect I pay it is in my effort to take care of myself alone in it. Somehow that creates a kind of stubborn comradery between us.

It was a surprising relief when I arrived at the sheep and horse barns, since the presense of animals, on the edge of shockingy steep mountains, softens me again. Today I helped brush the horses and bring them to their respective fields, and learned that these are a few domestic horses out of hundreds of wild horses in the mountains I am camped on. I like knowing they are there.

I am tired from walking and feel extremely isolated, but also feel that some balance in me is deepy right.

I havn’t had to use my headlamp all week, and can set up my tent at two in the morning; It is the blue hour for twelve hours straight; Apparently I am near where Journey to the Center of the Earth begins. I love that

more to come! With shock and deep admiration,

Annie

me wrestling with my tent

People traveling by took this picture of me