Despite leaving Bjarg somewhere around 8.30am with the intention of flying across the Desert of Misdeeds (the Icelandicy, Ódáðahraun, is fun but the English is just epic), I didn’t actually get out of Mývatn until nearly 10.30. First I had to top up with fuel, since there’s no more until Egilsstaðir, then I wanted to run up and see Grjotagja, a cave flooded with boiling water that I should have done yesterday afternoon. So much better first thing in the morning before anyone else gets there. Then I gave in to the urge to buy a particular t-shirt I’d seen at the Nature Baths – which don’t open until 10. So I meandered my way up Krafla by way of the Mývatn viewpoint, the eternal shower, the Krafla viewpoint and the power station visitor centre (which also doesn’t open until 10).

It was windy. Down by the F88 junction there was a cloud that might have been a dust storm or a steam eruption or even Iceland’s fiercest river being blown into spray. It was dust. I was concerned that it would be dust all across the Desert and that the paint would be stripped off the van but that was the only dust storm. It stayed windy all the way, too windy to open the car doors at times.
According to Google Maps and the distances on signs, it should only take about two hours to get to Egilsstaðir. I made a few stops – got to get photos of The Desert of Misdeeds – and then as I thought I was running down into Egilsstaðir (except it was still 40 miles away), I spied signs for Stuðlagil. I think I’m the last person who’s been to Iceland to visit Stuðlagil. It’s a narrow canyon of basalt columns and the river is blue-green. Very beautiful. What no one ever mentions is that it’s also a 2 to 2.5km hike from the car park. I might have had lunch before I set off if I’d known.
It is indeed beautiful once you get there. There are two car parks, one at each end and on opposite sides and I completely by accident chose the best one. I also completely by accident sat in a puddle to take my mandatory selfies and didn’t realise until I stood up.

40 miles onwards to Egilsstaðir where I stopped to stock up on food and then onwards again to Eskifjörður.
If the last few campsites were anything to go by, and my experience of Egilsstaðir’s campsite two years ago, I’d be parking in another overcrowded car park. Eskifjörður, as its name suggests, is down on the fjord, two villages away from the big town and has a lovely swimming pool which turned out to be easy walking distance from the tiny campsite. Unfortunately, the pool closed 25 minutes after I arrived and won’t even be open for a first-thing swim tomorrow because it appears to be some kind of bank holiday. So another evening in the van.