It was around 1pm when the bus dropped us back at Skaftafell, and we started hiking. The 6.5-hour-hike around the mountains and glaciers was more strenuous than I expected but I was fully rewarded with the spectacular view. The glacier was massive. The one I saw in New Zealand was a baby (or a fetus) compared to this guy. It was making many streams under the mountain, and the look of those was quite sinister due to their milky color (or cement color, more like) and surrounding black sand.
When we reached the ground level again, my face was frozen and my legs were in pain. But we had to figure out how to reach Littla-Hof from there. We tried hitching, but there weren’t much traffic, so the chances of getting a lift seemed very slim. We ended up walking about 5km to a diner in a town nearby. (My legs were going to ache for the next 3 days from that roadside walk.)
We couldn’t walk anymore when we got into that diner, and I asked a waitress whether we could get a ride from anyone. She said many truckers stopped by to eat and they might give us a ride. We ate dinner there, and she explained our situation to every person stepping in, and around 11pm, she finally got us 2 truckers who were to pass Littla-Hof. The size of the truck, boy, I gotta tell you, was massive. I think it had at least 16 wheels, and there were 4 high steps to reach the passenger seat. Yet, the truckers weren’t squeamish about narrow bridges or speeding. We finally got to Hof, thanked them profusely, walked through the town in pitch-blackness, got to the Littla-Hof part of Hof, found the cabin, and got in.
We were supposed to do Jokulsarlon-hiking combo the following day, after we changed our lodging to Skaftafell. But what can you do. We didn’t book hostels in advance. The driver didn’t show up. We didn’t arrange the transportation to Littla-Hof.
Oh, did I mention it was raining?
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