“it’s little pats were wonderfully friendly”

One drizzly February, I travelled 1222.3 miles north from Brighton, UK to Reykjavik, Iceland. I spent one month exploring, meeting fellow travellers and locals, trying to gain an understanding of the true soul of the country. The most poignant days of the trip were spent snowed into a tiny hostel not far from Hvolsvöllur, where I was able to truly reflect on the previous days and experience the incredible calm of the expanse of a country so sparsely populated. I arrived back in England, fat with experience and love for the island that had challenged me beyond my expectations and welcomed me unconditionally.

Beautiful and fierce, Iceland is a country not to be reckoned with; but in between the terrifying blows its little pats were wonderfully friendly