In the Land of Waterfalls

Dear Diary

The campsite at the foot of Seljalandsfoss is terrific. Three waterfalls line up, one more impressive than the other. We can walk past the first waterfall and let the water flow over our heads.

We fall asleep in our tents with the sound of the waterfalls in our ears. At night, however, the cold creeps mercilessly into tents and sleeping bags and lets us know that on a bare island in the North Atlantic right between the nearby ocean and the snow-capped super volcano Katla, only a little fabric is keeping us alive.

Although it is the end of May and the days are nice and warm – when there is no wind blowing – the nights are tough.

Especially this night I freeze to the last, so I pull out my joker and pull the golden survival blanket out of the first aid case, wrapped with clever care, and wrap myself in it in cozy warmth.

From an Icelander on site, we learn that there is a fourth waterfall in addition to the three waterfalls, hidden behind a few rocks. We should look for him.

We will not be told twice and join in nature’s game of hide and seek – and we will be rewarded.

After a humble breakfast, we make our way to the next epic waterfall, Skógafoss.

Two rainbows shimmer through the sunshine in front of the waterfall.

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