Imechapishwa: 09.08.2020
The laundry is cleaned after the day off, Skat practice deepened, swimming skills honed, and all camping gear dried again. We set off again in passable weather in the mid morning (the kids only need 3 wake-up calls!). The boxes are quickly stuffed again and we are "on the vegur". We drive until the hotly awaited hot spring appears on our right. Two differently heated swimming pools and a natural pool. We are not alone but there is plenty of space and it spreads out. By the way, the car looks like a pig again 2 hours after cleaning the campsite (in almost all areas of Iceland there are places with thick hoses for removing the volcanic crust) - that was really worth it.
In a small village there is a restaurant in grandmother's style right by the sea that we immediately like, because there is an important insight about cocoa on the wall. We immediately order plenty of it.
From a "fish vending machine" by the roadside, which was recommended to us as a secret tip and which we drive to despite the detour, we get super fresh trout. (We still haven't even bathed our blinkers and hooks!) The fisherman, who regularly fills the machine with the current catch, trusts that everyone will put an appropriate amount in a box - flexible currency. Very cool and a nice example of the generally existing basic trust of the people here in the north. On campsites, you are often only asked by a sign to pay your fee responsibly at a certain location. At a supermarket we find outdoor! sockets where we leave our cell phones and charge them while shopping.
We arrive at a campsite relatively early in the evening. It has been raining for days and the place is completely soaked. On a sign it says: "Please pay at the nearest hotel at the reception! If we have to come out, you will pay 50% more" A hint that tourists can't handle freedom after all? Strange.
We still drive to the westernmost point of Iceland. Hundreds of birds are waiting for us on the steep cliffs. According to research, there are supposed to be several hundred thousand! Besides many types of swallows and seagulls, the most famous ones are of course the puffins. There are (too) many souvenir shops that use this bird as a theme and print or embroider anything imaginable with it. They are relatively tame - or accustomed to humans - and let us get close to them. It is extremely windy and the "puffins" stagger through the air. They are not exactly the artists of the air and their landings are more like those of young animals or crash pilots. But it is precisely this perceived clumsiness and of course their unmistakable appearance that gives them their cute charm.
Unfortunately, there is no place to stay for the next 50km, so we drive until late at night. In the middle of nowhere, we discover an old warehouse, climb into an old US airplane torso, and admire other propeller planes, wrecked cars, and even a carriage. Museum or junkyard? We have never seen anything like it. It is almost dark when we arrive at our final overnight camp - the fish is still grilled with dedication - no day should end hungry.