On Wednesday I left surprisingly early. The road out of Reydarfjördur had mysteriously turned into several kilometres of gravel road in twenty-four hours and once I was past there, my car suddenly demanded that I check the oil now. As I was going through Egilsstadir, I popped into the airport where I hired the car to seek their advice. No one there. There are three sets of in/out flights a day and not a soul around in between. But Hertz do have a phone that connects directly to Hertz in town (not that they exist on any map). They asked if a number matched a number on the inside of the windscreen. I had no numbers at all so I pulled out the dipstick and made faces at it and apparently that pleased the car, because the warning promptly disappeared. The man on the phone said it’s just a reminder, which the mechanics must have forgotten to reset. Anyone know anything about Golfs have any opinions on that?
Off I went to Borgarfjördur Eystri, supposedly a highlight of the area. Four stretches of gravel road, including one over corkscrew mountain roads and the “loose cliffs” just outside the village are a massive landslide waiting to happen. It dwarfs the potential landslip at Dinah’s Hollow. When these cliffs go – and I’m pretty sure they will – it’ll be colossal. You don’t hesitate on that bit of road. Pretend it’s a rally, hope there’s nothing coming the other way and run for it.
Borgarfjördur – or Bakkagerdi, a village far too small for two large names – sits prettily by the sea between rhyolite mountains but there’s nothing there. The drive is nice enough but the village is just a teeny-tiny fishing village.
I came back to Egilsstadir, checked the oil properly because the car was complaining again and then went to wander around the rocks next to the pool.