Sunday 3.8.2014 Dag:574km Total:1773km
A classical saying among bikers (famous last words) is "it didn't look that far on the map" and that is exactly the mistake I do today.
I had looked on the map and booked our next stay at the Fishermans Hotel, Sudureyri in the Westfjords.
I knew I had f**cked up when it took the GPSs what felt like forever to crunch the numbers, I had done a precalculation which came to 180kms which I naively thought might come to twice the distance after route calculation. It didn't. It came back as about 600kms, which would be done mostly on gravel.
To put this in a bit of a perspective the width of the landmass from easternmost to westernmost of the whole island is about 500kms. I'll admit I'm no Einstein when it comes to math but I must have been pretty damn tired to do that mistake.
Now we had a hotel to check in to and had no idea if or when the reception closed so no mucking about today we had some mileage to do!
Not only where the roads magnificent scenically, the surface was pure bliss. They were also a total blast to ride so maintaining a speed of 100-110kms/h weren't are problem I thought.
All throughout the day my trusty travelling companion did not share this info but I have since learned that my less gravel experienced compadre felt that maintaining this speed on gravel was something between continuous crisis management and near death experience. Kudos to him for keeping still keeping up the pace.
Regardless of experience it was a very long day and we were more or less totally beat when we finally got to the hotel.
Hardly had my side stand hit the ground when the manager of the hotel walks up, gives us a warm welcome, compliments the bikes and asks if we're hungry.
Starvation was more like it so when asked if he should tell the restaurant to hold a bit before closing the buffé we readily accepted.
When he then by the reasoning that I'm not going to rent out any more rooms tonight anyway upgrades us free of charge to the largest room he had available he thus upgraded himself from all round good guy to legend.
After stuffing our faces with the buffe and swallowing it all down with the local brew were almost ready to hit the sack.
Now comes the really embarrassing part: after spending god know how long in the bathroom Bear comes back and asks me if I know how to get the frikking water running in the space shuttle they call a shower.
I of course found this absolutely hilarious. Until I stepped up to the launchpad.
I must give a debt of gratitude to the night receptionist that didn't laugh her ass off when a Swedish engineer and an electrician got bested by an Icelandic shower.
I mean we weren't even that drunk.
And I almost forgot: when we arrived at the hotel my right fog light had shook loose during the day and was just hanging by the cable. Lucky I didn't loose it and lesson learned: use threadlocker on things that are going to vibrate consciously for two weeks straight.