Diary Entry
We spurn the touristic Blue Lagoon and hike to our own hot springs. They are a bit smaller and not quite as blue, but still beautiful.
In our travel guide we find a route into Reykjadalur, above Hveragerði, which should lead to a “wild” hot spring.
It’s actually not very cold at all, but there is a very strong wind from the ocean that freezes our ears and other things. We can understand that this is just a mild breeze against what can otherwise blow here and understand the danger to the car.
We hike along the barren landscape over streams and slopes. The ground is black with ash and grass grows only sparsely here.
Finally, in the higher areas, we reach the area where it steams from all the pores of the earth. A hot spring from the ground mixes with the icy stream of the summit. We tear our clothes off and jump in. You have to get to the right spot that is not so hot that you cook the sulphurous chicken and is not so cold that you freeze with the ice fish, but exactly the middle in between.
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