Day 21. Seyðisfjörður - Hirtshals

At five o'clock I wake up. It's quiet, no raindrops drumming on the tent. Well, finally. I wanted to get up in time, but five o'clock is not necessary.

When I wake up again at 6:30 a.m., the quiet drizzle of raindrops is back. Great. Why should it end differently than it started. Following the call of nature, I get up and open the tent. Dieter is already awake and sitting in front of his tent. 'Who said it would be dry today?'

That was the result of several weather apps. Failure on all counts.

Activities slowly begin at the campsite, everywhere things are packed up, tents are rolled up, and cars are loaded. I had already stored most things yesterday. Hanging the sleeping bag out to air out is out of the question today. As a last action, I try to pack my tent into the stuff sack with as little water as possible. I dismiss the thought of collecting the water, bottling it, and selling it as real Icelandic rain. I'm sure an Icelander has already come up with that.

I have already put all the things I think I will need on the ferry in my backpack. Now I try to sit on Suzi. The already difficult task of getting on over the side cases and with the two luggage rolls becomes even more difficult with the backpack on my back. It doesn't look elegant. The 500 meters to the ferry are quickly rolled. The check-in procedure proceeds as usual.

The attendants obviously try to get as many vehicles as possible side by side. A motorcyclist from France stops next to me. The attendant jumps up, gesticulating wildly. 'Closer, closer,' he calls to the Frenchman. The Frenchman shakes his head and tries to explain that he wouldn't be able to get out between the machines. That doesn't seem to impress the attendant. 'Closer, closer!' he shouts even more loudly.

The Frenchman loses his temper. Even with almost no knowledge of French, I can understand what he thinks of the attendant and what he wishes for him, or what he should do. There is still 20 centimeters of space between our side cases. Since the attendant has just turned away again and is reprimanding other motorcyclists, I tip Suzi out of the side stand position into the vertical and reduce the distance between our side cases to a few centimeters. Then I tap the French colleague on the shoulder. 'Is this close enough?' He grins. The attendant comes by again, takes a look at the motorcycles, and continues on silently. I put Suzi back on the side stand and everyone is satisfied.

For the return trip, I have a berth in a nine-man cabin again. I also spread out my sleeping bag in bed C, knowing that I won't be using it tonight either. On deck, I take a few more photos of the departure.

The tortuously long 50-hour ferry ride now begins. I'm excited. The weather on the Atlantic is not really good, it's very windy, it's raining, and the waves are accordingly rough.

With two beers, it's happy hour .... take two, pay one, I rock into the evening.