What a wonderful journey...!

There is one special place in this world that has always fascinated me: Iceland! This big Island, created entirely from Volcanoes, shaped by fire and ice (and water of course…) had kept my imagination since my very youth.

Because I had crafted my velomobile for a wide range of terrains and applications, Iceland therefore seemed the obvious choice for the journey my master had set me on. I needed about a week for my preparations, then I set off. My big brother, the gentle oaf, gave me a heartfelt goodbye, and my master said empathetically:

“I believe in you. I know you hate traveling, but you’ll see how your horizon will expand and your personality will grow.”

And then he added: “Every serious journey into the outside world is also an existential journey inwards to your true self.”

He has such a good heart!

Despite that I had a very uneasy feeling before the start, but once I was settled into my seat, it vanished without a trace. It even got replaced with a more and more euphoric feeling, the longer I pedaled and the more distance I put between myself and my home. Yes, I was actually doing it! I traveled the world and didn’t know in the slightest what to expect! Normally that would scare me to death, but now the opposite happened: it excited me! Strange state of mind…

It took me three and a half days to cover the distance of more than 800 miles to Hirtshals in Denmark, where the ferry to Iceland was waiting. Usually I skipped breakfast and made a generous lunch break, where I extended the solar roof, tilted it towards the sun and let the batteries charge. In the evening I plugged the vehicle into a public power outlet. Never once did I sleep in a hotel. Instead, I folded the seats and hung a hammock on the ceiling. Oh, I love hammocks! I’ll never forget this nice and cozy feeling, when I snuggled first into the soft, warm and inviting fabric of my new travel cot!

The ride with my velomobile was so smooth, fast and troubleless, that I decided to name it “Munchie”, shortened from “Mile Munchie”, ‘cause it ate away the miles like nothing. You get it?

The three day journey with the ferry from Denmark to Iceland was nice, but not very thrilling. You have to book a cabin (they wouldn’t let me sleep in my Munchie!) and you have to pay quite a lot for each and every meal. Naturally again I skipped breakfast! The only highlight was the stop at the Faröer Islands, where I could catch a first glimpse at the majestic and magnificent nordic landscape with its empty, barren, grass-covered plains, hills, steep mountains, cliffs and the thundering noise from the north atlantic ocean.

I must admit, they tried to make the trip on the ship as comfortable as possible. Unfortunately my understanding of comfort doesn’t seem to match the common understanding of comfort. I’m happy when I can tend to myself, cook for myself and otherwise mind my own business. Luxury makes me uncomfortable. I don’t need lounges, bars, salons, fancy drinks and exquisite meals. As long as it is vegetarian (with fish as the only exception; I also don't care much for cheese) I’m happy with any kind of food.

Therefore I spent as much time as possible in my cabin (which I had fortunately just for myself), read novel after novel on my ebook reader and listened to good music. However I also loved the sight of the sea, which could sometimes bring me into quite a state of meditative trance. Unfortunately the deck was often too crowded for my liking. It still wasn't the main season, but the number of tourists was already picking up.

We arrived Wednesday morning at Sejðisfjörður, and I got to see the mighty cliffs and the bare, rugged, steep rocks and mountains of eastern Iceland crystal clear in the early rising sun. It was such a magnificent sight! We spent what felt like hours cruising towards and along the coast, before the ship finally turned into the fjord, at the end of which laid our destination. I was finally in the land of my dreams!

Sejðisfjörður is, despite its big harbour, a very small town of just about 600 people, so didn’t bother to stay for long and immediately set off towards the large volcanic regions in southern and southwestern Iceland before the big tourist rush would set in (summer was near!): a journey of a good 300 miles.

I passed Egilsstaðir, where the road took its turn in the right direction and paused for a self-cooked lunch at a still snow-covered mountain pass, where I could try out my additional device for electrical power supply for the first time.

Because, you see, solar panels have a problem in Iceland: there isn’t all too much sun. It’s often cloudy and windy, and the sun is very low because of the high latitude. The only benefit for solar power are the long days from mid-spring to mid-fall.

The second problem is the vastness and emptiness of the land. There are just some flecks of civilization and sometimes hundreds of miles of nothing in between, with no power grid or socket or anything for charging the batteries of my Munchie.

Therefore I had to find a way to harness the power of the nearly constantly blowing wind - and still be able to stay mobile. My solution looked like this:

I connected a kind of parachute from very sturdy, tear-resistant cloth with a long, thin, but very strong rope to a mechanical arm that could swirl it automatically around, till the wind would catch it and pull it upwards. The cable is connected through a pulley to a small generator that feeds the batteries. The whole machine just weighs about 25 pounds and can be folded when being moved. It just needed to be firmly fixed on the ground when set up. I called it my “enerchute” (short for “energy chute”).

I had no way to test it at home with all the roofs, trees, power lines, cables and other obstacles, so here would be its first real trial.

And I must say, it performed magnificently! The solar roof could catch today only here and there some spells of full sun, but the enerchute generated nearly constantly two and a half kilowatts - sufficient to load the batteries full during my lunch break. And it looked really beautiful, when it performed its loops, gently steered from the mechanical arm, like a swallow in the skies.

In the afternoon I managed to pass the rugged eastern coast and reach the glaciers of Vatnajökull, the biggest icefield in Europe. Its glaciers sometimes nearly reached the sea and had dug out beautiful lakes full of icebergs and ice plates which glistened in the afternoon sun like surreal artwork made of gems and diamonds. There was nearly uninterrupted nature, just some sparsely shattered recently built, very modern looking hotels, restaurants and inns along the road I avoided consequently (with the exception of some toilet stops…).

When the sun settled I could nearly see the vast sand planes of the southern coast, so I prepared for the night. It was very windy, so I again set up my enerchute to charge the batteries overnight.

The sun got up early and I followed swiftly. Today I wanted to reach the legendary volcano Katla and try out for the first time the off-road capabilities of my Munchie. It was a beautiful day, the sun shone nearly constantly (good for the solar-roof!), so I reached the road junction towards the volcanic wilderness of Katla around noon.

Till now I had constantly driven on asphalt-roads which guaranteed a smooth and fast drive (remember: Munchie!). It had really been an exhilarating feeling to soar just with pedaling (of course assisted from the hub-motors) more than 60 miles per hour through the beautiful landscape! But from here on the drive turned much more difficult and I switched to offroad-mode. The trip turned really adventurous, when the gravel road for the first time disappeared into a water stream, surfacing again on the other side.The rivers and streams here were really wild, and not all had bridges! To be on the safe side, I tested every such ford with my knee high rubber boots before I set the suspension to maximum height and pedaled very carefully through. Thankfully, everything inside stayed dry and the hub-motors survived their short dip into the water.

But I was glad when I reached the volcano cone of Mælifell in the afternoon, the gigantic icefield of Mýrdalsjökull in plain sight, the white and icy crown of Katla.

It was eerily quiet. The ocean was far away and the wind had quieted down to barely an audible whisper. The sky was deep blue with very sparse clouds, so I extended the solar roof and tilted it towards the sun. I was really tired, so I hung up my hammock and tried to relax a little bit. It wasn't just because of my short sleep the night before or the exhausting off-road drive, but especially because of all the new sights and impressions from this alien and beautiful landscape. It was just so different from the crowded, “civilized” and overcultivated lands of central Europe. Here in Iceland I was first met with the overwhelming beauty of raw, uncultivated land. The magnitude of shapes and forms from the basaltic rock is indescribable, overshadowing every imaginary or fantasy landscape. I wouldn't even have been too surprised to see a dragon or a troll around the corner…

Exhausted, I closed my eyes, dug deeper into my hammock and listened to the silence of the land. Slowly I slipped into a deep and relaxing sleep.