In which we hike Hveragerði (Iceland part II).

On researching potential excursions before the trip, a friend familiar with the Iceland recommended this hike through the Reykjadalur Valley. Gorgeous landscapes and swimming in a hot river? Uh, yes plz.

After fully surveying our Home on the Dairy in the morning sunshine and cooking up a hearty hikers' breakfast, we hopped in the car and headed back west.

That part of the island is green and mostly treeless, with many horse-filled fields and little blue, snow-capped volcanoes poking above the horizon in the not-too-distant distance. 

As there aren't many roads, it's difficult to get lost and we found the trailhead soon enough. The weather was perfect and brought out all the colors in the hillsides above us. 

For a while the landscape resembled that of green mountainsides of the UK, but then the multicolored, highlighter slime and steam vents reminded me that, no -- don't let the sheep deceive you -- you're not in Wales anymore. But really, check out that geothermal veg!

The trail took us up and up and up, and after a while we had a splendid view of the whole southern part of the island all the way to the sea.

Looking down into the neighboring valley, I took this picture to add to my photo series of "Sheep Grazing in Impractical Places".

The palette of the black volcanic stones against the orange earth, bright green grass and blue sky was quite delightful.

After about an hour of leisurely hiking and giddy photographizing we reached the hot part of the valley. Very hot.

Hot and stinky. Mmmmm, sulphur. So pungently picturesque! 

Once we made it through the fumes and managed not to tumble into the boiling, blubbering hot pots, the hot springs came into view, full of locals as well as selfie-taking tourists. We were tempted, but wanted to keep climbing before our soak, so crossed the little bridge and continued up the mountainside. 

That is where the crowds ceased, and soon it felt like we were the only people on the whole mountain. From there we continued along through the hills, where a soft, grassy plateau dotted with steam opened into a view over the highlands to the north. 

After a Sandwich of Champions (for you, Asaface), we explored the nearby pools of milky blue and green and bubbling mud pots and observed sheep grazing in more impractical places.

It was splendid. Absolutely splendid. 

On the way back we took a different route down that gave way to even more stunning vistas, as well as a rather nerve-wracking section of trail where the narrow footpath ran out and we had to kind of swing ourselves over the cliff face with a rope and iron holds.

By the time we made it back to the hot spring we were more than ready to hop in, and did so. It was like a jacuzzi, but with slimy vegetation, and jets of cold, fresh water mixing with the volcanic hotness. The fresh water cools the spring the further down you go, and we found a nice little lagoon part-way up that was almost but not quite too hot. After several hours of climbing, it felt like hot hot heaven. 

Once dried and clothed again a good while later, we started the trek back down and admired the stinkiest rainbows we had ever seen in the late afternoon sun.

This adventure was off to a glorious start, and we were tired, happy and hungry when we finally arrived back at our cabin in the glowing evening fields. One more wonderful day down and many wonders to go.