A trip to Iceland had been on the cards since the beginning of 2020, when our son moved to Reykjavik, and we eventually decided to make the trip in 2024. Four years of research had yet to resolve the nature of the visit – while I was looking at hot springs and northern lights, Martyn seemed to be reading daring-do accounts of gravel roads, fords and headwinds. Although we’ve enjoyed lots of tandem touring over the years, it’s mostly been in France where taking a relaxed attitude to route planning and the next night’s feeding and accommodation offers serendipitous delights, not dicing with hypothermia and starvation.
Nevertheless, the “Iceland bike” – a Thorn Discovery double marathon touring tandem with S&S couplers –somehow joined our fleet, first mysteriously named Bike X, but quickly acquiring the name Pedro (Pedro X – geddit?). Pedro’s first foreign tour was our trip to the Tandem Club International Rally in 2023, when we camped at Scaër and spent another week in southern Brittany before returning to Roscoff. Pedro certainly proved to be a very comfortable and reliable machine on both roads and cycle ways. A new lightweight mattress revolutionised the comfort of nights under canvas, though not my resistance to camping in the rain.
Finally in spring 2024 we committed to a “summer” trip, flying to Iceland with EasyJet from Luton (the only carrier who would take Pedro’s weight) and taking our camping equipment, beefed up for Icelandic July weather. We would have a week in Reykjavik, and then try for a tour in the hinterland. I was still not entirely convinced on the camping or the gravel roads, and looking at the experience of other cyclists we agreed we would need to be flexible and work with the weather.
May and June were spent in a whirlwind of planning, preparation and panic. Lots of sewing, glass fibre/cardboard engineering, weighing and measuring, culminating in a fraught reintroduction to air travel and a final sprint to the gate. Our last flight was in 2005 with two solo bikes and, as we ruefully remembered once on the plane, we vowed then never to do it again.
The week in the capital was dominated by strong and bitter winds, with plenty of rain showers thrown in. Our son and his partner took us on the “Golden Circle” of tourist sites, which includes the Thingvellir National Park, the geysers and the Gullfoss double waterfall, but it was great to also have the tandem as a means of transport. Reykjavik has excellent cycling infrastructure which combined with junctions that give priority to pedestrians and cyclists made cycling in the city and its outskirts relatively safe and easy. However, we did not see many cyclists – the cycle ways seem mostly to be used by electric scooters, either in transit or lying across the path.
Our “cycle-camping tour” is hardly going to make the annals of adventure cycling – a total of about 300km over 6 days – but we did get to ride on a gravel road and finally nailed pitching and striking camp in the rain without misery or complaint.
First stop was the Mosskógar campsite just beyond Mosfellsbaer, which is about 12 km east of Reykjavík. The site was owned by an artist who had lived many years in France, but returned each summer to his smallholding and planted shelter trees. Despite local disbelief, the trees have flourished and make the site an oasis of shelter for campers and for salad crops. Even better, cooking facilities are provided in a large polytunnel, where people also leave unwanted food supplies and gas canisters. As this site is often the last stop for visitors before leaving Iceland the offerings are many and various. Payment is cash only so we rode back to Mosfellsbaer to find a cash machine and supermarket. We returned to the site and enjoyed our supper, enlivened with some eclectic free additions, and had a comfortable night in our little tent. The sky was never dark, but the light didn’t interfere with our sleep and spared us the need for a torch when it came to night manoeuvers.
The next morning was On-Off rain, but we mostly managed to dress and pack up in the “Off”. We continued the climb east on the main road, soon running out of cycle path but having no problems with the general traffic. We then turned north on a road that sweeps down to the Hvalfjörður fjord, continuing around the fjord to the Bjarteyjstdander campsite. Once off the main road the cycling was relaxed, as a road tunnel under the mouth of the fjord now takes the heavy traffic.
This day saw some of the most dramatic weather changes of the trip. We took a break at Hvammsvík Hot Springs shortly after reaching the fjord. It had turned sunny and warm and we were positively basking as we enjoyed a coffee outside. Martyn took the opportunity to spread out the tent to dry the canopy, while I investigated the swimming options. Luckily I baulked at spending over £40 on a brief dip, as by the time I returned to the bike I was needed to help furl the tent in the rising wind. We set off up the fjord into darkening cloud and a strong headwind, which soon included driving rain. After a few miles of pretty unpleasant riding the squalls passed as quickly as they had come, and by the time we arrived at the campsite we were dry-ish and able to pitch in pleasant evening weather.
Bjarteyjstdander campsite is part of a family farm. It too offered indoor cooking facilities, though no free leftovers this time. We had brought our evening meal ingredients and some emergency stores, but we were caught out when we found the nearest place we could buy any more food of any sort was in Akranes, 35km away! So the next morning it was cous-cous with black tea for breakfast and a round trip to the town. Once again the weather was capricious, but this did lead to one of our most treasured memories of the trip. When we emerged from the café after a much needed warm-up, coffee and rhubarb cake, the shop keeper from the adjacent jewellers rushed out with a cloth and dried our saddles, before wishing us a pleasant journey.
The shopping trip gave us a chance to check out the route possibilities for moving further afield. We had to briefly join the “1”, the Iceland ring road, which was taking the tunnel traffic on to the north. We only had to cycle a few hundred metres between junctions, but came perilously close to being taken out by a caravan. Obviously not a good route, except perhaps to travel by night. We also got a look at the gravel road alternative, but it seemed to rise steeply from the tarmacked road and was running mud in the rain.
Back at the campsite we unpacked our stores and made a cup of tea. First taste – what’s this! the milk’s sour! It turned out we had picked up “AB mjólk” – an Icelandic speciality which is essentially runny yogurt. Martyn gamely continued with the tea, while I went for a fresh cup and black. Once that excitement was over, we discussed our plans for the rest of the short time we had available. We were not too sanguine about the options for moving on to the next nearest campsite, and we had now lost a day on the 70-odd km shopping trip, so we settled for staying on at the Bjarteyjstdander campsite.
The following day may have been “static” but proved a real bonus. We found that we could use the family’s hot tub on the shore of the fjord for about a fiver each, and spent several hours enjoying hot water and warm sunshine in outstanding surroundings. I even got a paddle in the fjord, though the tide was too far out for a swim. Not to be too lazy, we then rode back to the gravel road and explored a bit further, eventually completing a loop of about 42 km, taking advantage of the late daylight. Once up the muddy slope the surface was not too bad and Pedro’s 50mm Schwalbe Marathon Mondial EVO tyres coped well – as did I. It would have been a hard ride with full touring luggage, however.
The next morning we returned to Mosskógar by the same route as we had come – but as everyone knows, it looks different in the opposite direction. I had been dreading the ascent back up from the fjord as it had seemed a long way down, but in the event it was a nice steady climb which we rather enjoyed. We stopped briefly to see the Þórufoss waterfall – apparently used as a location for Game of Thrones – before regaining the main road and quickly descending to the campsite.
We felt well worked despite having only 64km on the clock, and we were pleased to find a tub of hot chocolate powder and plenty of salty snacks amongst the donated items in the polytunnel. We feasted well and had a good night’s sleep before returning to Reykjavik and the joys of repacking the tandem and suitcases for a slightly more civilised airport experience and flight back to the UK. A final sting in the tail of the trip was a nightmare drive back to Cornwall and the positive Covid tests the next day.
The final verdict? We got a lot of value out of having the tandem in Iceland, and did and saw things we would have missed otherwise. Food and accommodation prices are high, and camping and cooking ourselves eased the pain somewhat. It may not have been the most hardcore of adventures, but not too bad an achievement (and a lot of fun, Type 2 or otherwise) for a couple of septuagenarians. We clearly spent a lot more time, effort and angst on travel and preparation than could really be justified, and we’d know better how to do it next time. But, as far as flying is concerned … Never Again!