Stage 1: Among Green Giants and First Icelandic Encounters

After the first night camping, our real journey begins. The day starts with a descent that immediately cancels the elevation gained the night before, bringing us back to the main road. Here, still immersed in “civilization,” the trail follows asphalt, but already in the first hours the Icelandic valleys open up before us: green mountains rise imposingly on every side, creating a grand and slightly surreal landscape.

Along the road, small villages appear, their low, square houses giving an almost “western” feel, interrupted only by huge farms. The cows, curious and calm, watch us and often follow us for a stretch, walking along the fences as if we were something entirely new. The locals are no less charming: their gaze is often surprised, but never without a warm greeting, usually paired with a smile or a “good luck!” Always remember to return the gesture—kindness in Iceland is a universal language.

As we approach our destination, the valley narrows, the houses become rarer, leaving space for isolated farms and cultivated fields. Just before the goal, a small local airport appears, signaling that we are leaving behind the more urbanized sections. After a few kilometers, on the right, the day’s landmark finally appears: the Sundry Museum, a small museum serving as an ideal endpoint for the stage, though it offers no accommodation or services.

It’s worth remembering that camping rules in Iceland are strict: tents can only be pitched away from existing accommodations, never on cultivated land, and always with the landowner’s consent, taking care not to leave any trace. In our case, we chose a spot near the river: slightly damp, but fully compliant with the rules, allowing us to end the day authentically, immersed in Icelandic nature.

Stage 2: Farewell Asphalt, Welcome Pastures

After a whole day on asphalt, the landscape and terrain finally change. We leave the main road and hit the dirt track, saying goodbye to the last villages along the way. The valley seems to close in around us, and the environment becomes more rural and authentic: farms grow larger, immersed in green and populated by hundreds of animals.

The cows, calm and curious, often approach in groups, almost as if welcoming us, while the sheep, more cautious, quickly retreat at our sight, disappearing among the fields and slopes. Cars become increasingly rare: silence and nature take over, giving us the feeling of truly leaving civilization behind.

By evening, under the soft colors of the Icelandic light, the day’s destination comes into view. The stage ends in a wide sheep pasture: a simple yet uniquely charming place, where we decide to pitch our tents. Despite our somewhat intrusive presence, the sheep surprisingly leave us alone, grazing nearby but never coming too close. It’s a basic setup, yes, but surrounded by the peacefulness that only the Icelandic countryside can offer.

Stage 3: Towards the Highlands, from Green to Lunar Desert

The valley narrows further and the climb begins to be felt. Just when it seems the gorge is ending, we discover that it extends further east, winding beyond expectations. The effort is rewarded by the scenery: the steep, green slopes occasionally remind us of the Dolomites, while a freezing stream runs to our left, guiding us like a constant thread along the trail. From time to time, an off-road vehicle appears—proof that this place is not entirely isolated.

After a few hours and a steeper ascent, the landscape suddenly changes. Behind us, the green Icelandic coasts fade, and before us stretches the vast Highlands: a barren, almost lunar environment of dark sand and volcanic rocks. It’s no surprise that NASA trained Neil Armstrong and other astronauts here in the 1960s: the arid terrain, extreme conditions, and young geology made it a perfect lunar simulation.

Reaching the summit, we are about halfway through the stage. Hours of walking still await us in this silent desert. Between chats and excitement over the unique surroundings, the kilometers pass until, just before the finish, a detail catches our eye: an isolated hill on the left topped with a cross—a rare sight in Iceland. Driven by curiosity (and the hope of finding signal), I deviate to reach the top while my partner continues on the path. From above, the view is incredible, and I take a long photo break before moving on.

The final kilometers bring us to a glacial lake, nestled in this desolate landscape. A striking, austere place where we set up our tent to shelter from the wind. The cold never leaves us, a constant reminder that here nature always sets the rules.

Stage 4: Laugafell Hot Spring and the Glacial Desert

The day begins with a quick breakfast, immersed in the typical cold and damp of the Highlands. The lake next to our campsite remains almost invisible, hidden by the thick fog that we’ll soon realize is a recurring presence in these areas. Guided by Hofsjökull on the horizon, we walk for a couple of hours until descending into a valley that leads to the first sign of civilization and green after a day of desert: the Laugafell hut.

Here awaits a mirage-like surprise: the hut’s thermal pool. After days without washing, the excitement is indescribable. Without thinking twice, we dive into the hot water, happy like children, until the hut manager calls us to order: entrance is fee-based (1000 ISK, about €7). A cost we gladly pay, as it also includes the use of toilets and showers. The hut also offers beds for those wishing to stay overnight.

Laugafell is a popular meeting point for off-road enthusiasts. During our visit, on a Sunday at noon, we encounter a group of Icelanders grilling meat—a scent irresistible to our stomachs accustomed only to freeze-dried food. Lunch in the warm water becomes an unforgettable moment, a mix of relaxation and socializing.

We set off again in the afternoon. After a small ford just below the hut, we leave behind the green valley of Laugafell and return to the desert landscape. Ahead, however, the desert meets glaciers, creating spectacular scenery: large valleys, grassy plains, and massive rivers. This grand landscape accompanies us to the day’s final stage.

Stage 5: Tungnafellsjökull Fords and Arrival at Nýidalur Hut

We start again with the goal of reaching the last hut we’ll encounter for several days. Today’s stage is mainly a connection: we leave the F821 (which from Laugafell becomes F752) to reach the legendary F26, one of Iceland’s wildest and most famous tracks, which we cross mid-day.

The hut manager had warned us: two challenging river crossings await. The first comes almost immediately near our campsite. The water is shallow, but the width of the river makes it physically demanding. The second, about 5 km north of Nýidalur hut (here), is the hardest of the entire trek: water comes directly from the nearby Tungnafellsjökull glacier-volcano, and its flow varies greatly depending on conditions (temperature, time of day, melting). Even though the river is narrow, the current is strong and the depth reaches above the knee, almost to the groin for my partner (I’m 1.92 m, he’s 1.85 m). This crossing requires attention and caution. (See this section for more details on fords and how to tackle them).

After the ford, the last kilometers pass more smoothly. We enter Vatnajökulsþjóðgarður (Vatnajökull National Park), where the landscape becomes greener and more welcoming, while Tungnafellsjökull’s massif occasionally peeks from the clouds to our left. The trail leads us to Nýidalur hut, situated on a small promontory above another river—this time shallow and easy to cross.

The hut manager welcomes us, explaining the rules and available services. We choose to pitch our tent outside but decide to use the communal kitchen (around €5 per person). Inside, there’s a large pot always boiling, where we can get hot water for our freeze-dried meals. The dining hall is the heart of the hut: a small board updates the weather forecast for the next two days, shelves are stocked with maps and guides, and a tiny shop offers snacks and drinks at sky-high prices (about €35 for chips, cookies, a can, and juice), justified by the fact that supplies arrive only by 4×4 after many kilometers.

We spend the evening in the warmth of the common room, checking the weather and planning the upcoming river crossings with the hut manager. Then, after using the outdoor toilets, we retreat to our tent to rest.

Stage 6: Between Sand and Glaciers – The Wild Heart of the Highlands

Still fueled by the little “caloric boost” from the previous evening, we set off for the sixth stage, carrying a tinge of frustration: until the tenth day, no food other than our usual freeze-dried rations would be available.

The landscape changes again. We leave behind the gray, solitary desert of the past days to enter a different environment, sandy in color. Hofsjökull reveals its full grandeur: massive rivers flow down its sides, running parallel to our route southward, while huge lakes appear on the horizon like mirages.

The day unfolds walking over sandy dunes in the heart of the Highlands. We are in an extraordinary position: moving between Iceland’s two largest glaciers (and Europe’s), although from here only Hofsjökull is clearly visible.

After many hours, we reach the highest point of the stage: a sort of natural rooftop overlooking the surrounding landscape. From up here, the view stretches uninterrupted, offering a breathtaking panorama. Just beyond, still enjoying the evening sun, we pitch our tent and end the day immersed in absolute nature.

Stage 7: Hofsjökull as Travel Companion and Icelandic Horses

Our trek continues through the heart of Icelandic Highlands. The landscape remains largely the same—dominated by sand and arid plains—but along the rivers, patches of green appear, bringing life and contrast to this harsh environment. Hofsjökull, now a faithful travel companion, grows ever more impressive, offering spectacular views that accompany us step by step.

Time passes between chatter and daydreams: inevitably, our minds wander to what we’d like to eat once back home. Meanwhile, the dirt road climbs a beautiful ridge, giving us once again wide and emotional views, before slowly descending toward our destination.

The last kilometers are tough, but the scenery changes again: ahead appears a pony farm, built next to a wide, fast-flowing river. Luckily, there’s no need to ford it: a solid bridge allows a safe crossing.

We decide to pitch the tent nearby, on a grassy plain by the road, just a few hundred meters before the farm. A simple but welcoming setup concludes the day with a touch of green finally more present.

Tappa 8: L’inferno dei moscerini e la visione del Þórisvatn

The longest and most challenging day of the trek begins in the worst possible way. Near the farm, the ground turns marshy, and as if that weren’t enough, we are immersed in a true natural nightmare. It’s the only morning without wind on the entire trip: the worst possible combination, as we are immediately assaulted by a massive swarm of mývatn midges.

These are not ordinary annoying insects, but a living, pulsating mass clinging to us, thirsty, as if our skin were their only food source. Hat, glasses, neck gaiter—nothing works. They manage to slip through every gap, targeting eyes, nose, ears, mouth. There’s no escape. Every breath risks bringing some inside, every step accompanied by a constant, suffocating buzz.

For over two and a half hours, we march with this black cloud above us, reduced to puppets moving out of desperation rather than strength. Our minds falter, spirits sink: it truly feels like a torment designed to break the hiker. The only trick giving brief relief is turning our faces against the occasional breeze: for a few seconds, the midges are forced to take shelter, but the moment the wind dies, the swarm attacks again with the same ferocity.

When we finally leave the marshy area, we can hardly believe it: the sudden silence, the absence of that cursed cloud, restore a little clarity. We continue through the desert, stopping for lunch beside a beautiful gorge, gradually regaining rhythm and breath.

The afternoon is less cruel: a long, straight path guides us like a thread through the vastness of the Highlands, with off-road vehicles in the distance kicking up clouds of dust like wild horses in a western. The gorge on our right turns into a river, accompanying us to the final ascent.

Here, after a steep effort, Þórisvatn opens before us—the largest artificial lake in Iceland. A muted green, immense, created by glacial melt and a dam that expanded its volume. Its 88 km² surface and 109-meter depth appear like a solid mirage, a natural monument redeeming the day’s harshness.

Exhausted, we choose a sheltered spot just before the lake and pitch the tent, feeling we’ve crossed a small hell to deserve this view.

Stage 9: Between Glacial Reservoirs and Ancient Riverbeds

We set off later than usual, still exhausted from the previous stage. Packing up the tent is complicated by the few midges clinging to our skin and clothes from the day before—a small, unwanted reminder of the past hell. The morning opens with strong wind and fine rain, a relief that allows us to move more easily over the wet terrain.

Shortly after, on our left, appears Krókslón (Sigöldulón), the artificial reservoir supplying the Sigalda hydroelectric plant. Thanks to the dam, we can spend most of the morning walking on purpose-built asphalt, risk-free. Unfortunately, Sigöldugljúfur canyon remains out of reach, closed due to ongoing works, so we content ourselves with observing it from the road above the adjacent mountain.

Reaching the top, the panorama leaves us speechless. On one side, the brilliant, calm blue water of Krókslón stretches out, while just a few steps away, the old bed of the Tungnaá River tells a different story. Its dark tuff walls and rocks shaped by millennia of water reflect the raw power of untamed nature; the once-tumultuous waterfalls now flow as trickles through dry gorges and banks. Here, the contrast between human water management and the memory of a free river creates an almost surreal landscape, where lichens and mosses colonize the shores and small animals find shelter among the rocks. It’s a place that invites reflection on human-nature coexistence, where the strength of the landscape remains intact even under human control.

We continue along the F208, walking over rocks that were once the riverbed, now thin black sand rising with every step—a silent witness to centuries of erosion and the region’s geological history. After resupplying near the old river crossing, we pick a nearby spot to camp. The day closes immersed in this extraordinary landscape, among glacial reservoirs, ancient riverbeds, and the wind accompanying our rest.

Stage 10: Arrival at Landmannalaugar – Iceland’s Most Famous Hut

Despite accumulated fatigue and a continuous caloric deficit, we set off energized, knowing we’ll soon reach Landmannalaugar, one of Iceland’s most famous huts, where we can finally soak in hot springs and eat something other than freeze-dried meals.

The walk continues over black sand, made even more challenging by the growing wind, strong enough to push us despite our weight and backpacks. We cover our noses and mouths, as passing vehicles raise clouds of dust that mix with the wind, creating swirling wings of sand in the sky: a powerful and almost hypnotic spectacle.

Between one kilometer and the next, we catch glimpses of Frostastaðavatn Lake, walk beside the Stùtur crater, and climb the trail leading to the hut, which offers a spectacular view over the entire valley. Finally, the desert is behind us.

Upon arrival, the crowd is surprising: more people than we had ever encountered in all of Iceland, with even 4×4 buses transporting curious visitors. We quickly set up our tent and head to the mini-market, made of old converted buses—charming, though not exactly cheap.

The hut offers numerous services: dormitories for those preferring indoor accommodation, a reception providing trekking and weather information, large bathrooms with showers and drying spaces (to be cleared the night before morning cleaning), a communal tent for cooking with your own supplies, and the “mountain mall,” three converted buses selling snacks, hot dogs, and hot drinks.

The real gem is the hot spring, one of the hottest we’ve ever experienced. After ten days of walking, soaking in that water is priceless: the body relaxes, muscles loosen, and fatigue slowly gives way to deep satisfaction.

Stage 11: From the Lands of Fire to the Green Lakes

Departing from Landmannalaugar marks the beginning of the Laugavegur, one of Iceland’s most famous stretches. The trail immediately climbs towards Hrafntinnusker, a volcanic plateau covered in black obsidian and crossed by fumaroles, often still patchy with snow even in midsummer. The scene is surreal: a lunar landscape dotted with solfataras and steam rising from the ground.

Once past this first section, the view opens onto wide, colorful valleys, with contrasts ranging from the yellow of sulfur to the bright green of mosses. The descent towards Álftavatn offers spectacular panoramas: alpine lakes and distant glaciers are visible in the background. The stage ends on the shores of Álftavatn Lake, a quiet and evocative spot inviting rest after a long and demanding day.

Stage 12: Crossing Rivers and Ash Deserts

This day is defined by river crossings: the trail skirts wide, fast-flowing rivers, often requiring boots to be removed and careful wading. After leaving the meadows of Álftavatn, we enter an increasingly barren environment: a black desert of volcanic sand, interrupted only by glacial rivers and deep canyons.

Along the way, we encounter the Emstrur hut, a strategic stop with breathtaking views of the Mýrdalsjökull glacier. Continuing, the valley narrows dramatically, with ravines and gorges carved by glaciers. Finally, we enter Þórsmörk, the “Forest of Thor”: a green oasis enclosed between three glaciers, where dwarf birches, willows, and colorful flowers create a landscape in sharp contrast to the desolation of the previous days.

Stage 13: Between Glaciers and Waterfalls to the Ocean

The final stage is one of the most spectacular and challenging. From the heart of Þórsmörk, the trail climbs towards the Fimmvörðuháls pass, situated between two massive glaciers: Eyjafjallajökull and Mýrdalsjökull. The ascent is long and demanding but offers incredible views of glaciers and lava fields formed during the 2010 eruption.

Once on the plateau, the scenery opens to a world of snow, steaming lava, and boundless vistas. From here begins a long descent towards the coast: the trail follows the Skógá River, offering an almost uninterrupted sequence of waterfalls—more than twenty—each unique. Arrival in Skógar is marked by the majestic Skógafoss waterfall, one of Iceland’s most iconic, symbolically signaling the end of the traverse, with the ocean just beyond.