Iceland was like nothing else, the hardest but also most fulfilling and challenging thing I have ever done, and I could bore you for hours with a day by day account of what I did thought and ate (actually that wouldn't take long - we ate bread), but I reckon I'll keep it short(ish).
Day one:
Since I was going on my own, rocking up to the airport, rucksack on the back was a nerve wracking enough experience, but the sea of green Macmillan t-shirts and friendly faces put me at ease. As nervous introductions and those awkward, tentative jokes began we headed for the plane (stopping en route at Duty Free for a little tipple, to keep us warm at night of course).
My first impressions of Iceland were beautiful - an eery landscape, almost moonlike in quality, with white fishing huts dotted around the hills. Heading into Rekyjavik we did spot a few Taco Bells, Subways and of course Ikea, but the city still maintained a quaint, old fashioned air. After meeting our new room/tent mates for the week (hello Lizzie B!) and a briefing we headed off for our final sleep in a decent bed.
Day Two:
The first of many early starts to come and we headed off to the hills for our first walk up an active volcano, Hekla. In the first five minutes was a ridiculously steep vertical climb and I think everyone started to think, oh god, what have we done? but after a while, with the sun shining and a lot of chatter with everyone on route, it started to get rather pleasant- this was going to be easy! Ah false sense of security, within 5 minutes of reaching the campsite (and if you ever want to see disappointment in its purest form, watch the faces of Icelandic families seeking solitude in the wilderness when they see a team of 60 people with 30 tents turn up to ruin the peace at their campsite) the heavens opened... and didn't really close again for the next week. Yes, as I'm sure you've all heard from me by now, the defining point of this trip was the weather... pelting rain, 45mph winds and a cold dampness that invaded every bone. The beautiful sun of the first few days was replaced by these delights until we were forced down from the mountain on the fourth day because of storms.
Day three-
After a first night in the tents (a stint
at Glastonbury this year did little to prepare me for the freezing cold night and a less than adequate sleeping bag... reminder to pay far more attention to the kit list in the future) we set off for a 7 hour trek through some beautiful mountains, past vast lakes and with the sun breaking through for much of the day. Although challenging, the hike was really fun, and everyone had the chance to chat and get to know each other along the way.
With aching feet we approached our second campsite, where, -in rain again- we pitched tents and soaked our sore muscles in the natural hot springs until the wee small hours.
Day four-
The longest day of the trek was also by far the hardest, with ten grueling hours of hiking/scrambling 1100 metres up on mountain ridges, complete with snow, sleet, 45mph winds and a severe lack of waterproofs (again, note to self, obey the kit list.)
Now perhaps the day is over I can look back on it more fondly, and I can say that it was the hardest day of my life physically with the cold, mud and wet, but the sense of getting through it, of helping others clamber up the rocks and of finally completing the day, actually made it worth it. After all, we weren't in Iceland for a holiday - it was meant to be a challenge. The team were incredible, running up and down the hills to help people get through and keeping everyone's spirits up. That night, camping on sodden mossy ground in wet tents and wet clothes, I think everyone felt that we were really earning that sponsorship money.
Day five and six-
As the rain and winds hadn't subsided and storm warnings were being sent out across the mountain range the decision was wisely made by the team to leave the area and find a safer place to trek. As luck would have it Tiny managed to find a ski hut in the Blue Mountains that had dorm rooms to stay out of the rain and dry our clothes for the first time in four days... still no shower but I can tell you that feeling warm and sleeping on a mattress (even with 30 snoring people around you) was utter bliss. Everyone was able to relax a little and enjoy a drink and dinner together.
Unfortunately the weather thwarted our attempts to trek the next day too... with thick fog making it impossible to see our hand in front of our faces (honestly the weather is normally beautiful in Iceland at this time, we were just unlucky!) so we visited the Blue Lagoon instead, and prepared ourselves for a final day of trekking the next day.
Day 7-
The final day of trekking saw us heading up a volcano in that ever present rain and wind again in what was perhaps the hardest climb of the trip. In my usual clumsy way I managed to fall at least five times and rip my new waterproof trousers (purchased a little too late for the earlier part of the trip) but it was great to finish on a hike and a high. With warm soup in our bellies and stinky trekking boots firmly encased in plastic sacks to be disposed of, we headed back to Reykjavik fora celebratory dinner (puffin and shark anyone?)
The meal itself was rather poignant actually, as we all realised that the trek was almost over and much of the talk focused on what we had been through and why we were taking part. When Tiny handed out T-shirts and we all clapped and cheered the amazing crew I'm not sure there was a dry eye in the house. After that it was on to celebrate even harder, hitting the incredible bars that Reykjavik has to offer until the sun came up.
Day 8-
Our final day in Reykjavik was spent snooping around the city (Gay Pride happened to be on, which made it all the more colourful and vibrant) and lots of souvenirs were bought before crawling out of bed at 4am the next morning for the flight home.
My trip to Iceland may have been one of the toughest challenges I've put myself through (anyone who's seen me glare at colleagues for daring to open the window on a cool day will know how cold I get from just the slightest breeze), so gale force winds and drenched clothes were never going to be easy. But I can honestly say it was also incredibly moving, uplifting and actually really, really fun! The people that I met out there pulled you through the bad days, the scenery and walking were breath-taking and the totals that were raised (currently £124,000 for Macmillan) have made it all totally worth it.
You can see lots more photos here: http://www.flickr.com/groups/iceland2009
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