The Laugavegur path | Day 0

I woke up in the fog

It is day 0. The path has not yet begun, but I have done it. I woke up at 6:00 am, I left my store at 6:15 and put on an Icelandic morning fog: 51 degrees and misty. A little pain in my knees when I stayed and surprisingly there was no rigidity anywhere else. That’s weird. Normally, pavement walks ruin me. But today? I feel good.

I finished loading my devices, both turned off to load faster, drink coffee and ate Mapo Tofu and tried to pack while running the clock. My bus to Landmannalaugar was set for 7:45 am, I arrived at 7:37 am, thanks to the internal video producer watch that I have never been able to turn off. My backpack was a disaster, but who cares? Today I would be walking with just one backpack. And ending the day at a thermal source.

Mathematics

While breakfast and classified my team, I found myself reflecting on how many Europeans I have met here, and how often I had to turn units only to maintain the conversation. Distance, elevation, temperature … It is a completely different language. So here are my quick and dirty shortcuts for Trail Talk:

• Celsius to Fahrenheit: Double the Celsius and add 30. It is not perfect, but it is close enough for the meteorological chat.

• Kilometers to miles: Divide the number by 10, then again by 2, and add the two results. For example, 100 kilometers are 100/10 = 10 and 100/2 = 50. Then 10 + 50 = approximately 60 miles.

• Meters at the feet: Multiply by 3 for an approximate estimate.

It is not perfect but good enough to defend itself in an international hiking crowd.

The bus trip: fog outside and in

About 45 minutes from Reykjavík, the fog shot so thick that he erased everything outside the bus window. What left me alone with the interior of my head, a place that was suddenly noisy.
What happens if I’m too cold? What happens if I lose the trail in the fog? What happens if my hands freeze? What happens if I was injured?

If your brain also does this, wearing just when you are on the verge of something exciting, you are not alone. That is what fear does … it simply appears in the worst possible time.

But at some point at that misty and frantic moment, my mind returned to a walk that I made with my friend Amanda a couple of months before. Seven miles under torrential rain. It was soak, soft, miserable, and the perfect mental training for what I am doing now. It is curious how the brain buries those moments until you really need them. This is what is about something big: not only team and physical condition, but the quiet work of developing resistance when no one is looking.

Even so, when the miles put on and the fog did not get up, my thoughts deviated to something even heavier.

A year ago, July 2024, I was not leaving or preparing for any great adventure. I was attached to YouTube, videos of long distance paths and running 5k. I felt … stuck. Department. Not like me. And I began to notice a pattern: when I was not walking regularly, my submerged energy. My joy was attenuated. I wasn’t depressed exactly, but something was wrong, and I knew.

I knew I needed something to expect. Something that would push me to life. Something to train, not only physically, but emotionally. But there was a trap: my partner wanted a birthday trip to Japan in 2025. That had always been the great plan. And I supported him completely.

So in silence I put my idea of Iceland in the «someday» file and concentrated on being supportive. About being realistic. But the truth is that I was also silencing something vital in myself. And at that time, I didn’t realize how much it would matter.

Divided between two dreams

By November, he had strategically saved enough money to cover flights to Japan for both of them. I was seriously introducing myself to his plan. But I still felt attracted: for the heaviest lands, by the paths, for the version of myself that I had not seen in a long time. I began to investigate the Japanese Alps, hoping that there may be a way of making both things work: their vision and my need to walk something hard and beautiful.

It almost worked. I thought I had found the perfect commitment. But then the dates changed. First we look at May, then September, then maybe March. All totally understandable: there were many moving parts to juggle with his part. But each change made me harder to maintain the impulse I had built. My anxiety began to rise. I felt that I was going to miss a walk that I knew I needed.

The hiking season of Iceland is brutally short. And every new timeline made him feel that my window was closing. I finally asked if March was the plan, and when she said yes, I made a decision. Walking through the Japanese Alps in March is not an option and I needed something locked up, something that could plan, train and keep my focus. Not to mention that it was February. Then, I booked my Julio trip to Iceland.

That meant letting go to Japan. Let the plan go. And no matter how necessary it felt, it was not easy.

Gratitude and guilt

Now, as the bus rolles towards the highlands, I am flooded with feelings found. I am deeply grateful to be here. This place already feels exactly as I needed. But blame? Yes, that came with me too.

After everything was reserved and the training was underway, my partner decided for Japan in October. It is a beautiful moment to visit, but a difficult season to walk through the Alps. That is me trying to make less loss feel. But it still pikes.

I feel guilty that he is not here.
I will not be there.
Guilty that I needed this so much that I prioritized him over his needs and desires.

Here is the thing: the blame often appears when we are doing something brave and Self-conservation. He likes to confuse both of them. It makes us question whether to honor our own needs means that we are failing another person. But that is rarely the truth.

It is easy to say: «You should never miss in a relationship.» But it is much harder to know when and how to talk about what you need. Maybe that’s just one thing about me.

This trip does not mean that you have stopped supporting it. It means that I also chose to support myself.

And I think it’s fine. Even if the fault still moves sometimes.

The bus keeps rolling forward. The fog is still thick. But I am learning that it is possible to carry conflicting emotions in the same backpack: gratitude and guilt, emotion and sadness, clarity and confusion. You don’t have to classify everything before taking the first step.

Sometimes, you just go anyway.

When the highlands whisen

Something changed at the time we turned off the main road and towards the steep F-Roads of Iceland. The bus crossed the thick fog and passed the irregular lava fields, and with each mile, the grip of guilt began to loosen.

For the first time in a long time, I felt present.

The sun burned the fog and the black and green mountain began to appear and my world was now focused on the beauty of the amazing. Landscape I had never seen before. At that time, the Icelandic highlands whispered stronger than the voices in my head. And finally I allowed myself to listen.

Camp conversation

After establishing the camp in Landmannalaugar and inhale a fast lunch, I met Todd and Katya, an adventurous Toronto couple who got involved in Patagonia in the O Trek (which is my 2027 walk). We quickly went from Trail Talk to Real Talk: Healthcare, Racism, Politics. When I invited them to visit me in the Smokies, they denied politely, at least until our current president is out of office. It was the type of honest and open exchange that reminds him of how different the different and similar lives can be through the borders.

Just a «fast» walk

Later that afternoon, I left for what was supposed to be a soft 4 mile loop, just enough to stretch my legs after the long travel day. I followed the Landmannalaugar path markers, which attended a surreal landscape of smoking, irregular ridges and neon green moss. The land looked like a mixture of Mars and the Middle -earth.

Following the sound

Silence in Iceland is crazy. No errors, without plans and at this time without wind. After a while, I heard it: the unmistakable roar of the glacial runoff resonating through a nearby valley. I trusted my ears, fell in the valley and walked about a mile and a half until I found a perfect place next to the water to take a snack. Only me and the avalanche of frozen water deriving water carving through the stone.

In the fog and fog

On my way back, I saw two hikers and headed towards them, then I noticed a sign that pointed to a mountain path. Naturally, I went up. When I got to the top, the fog closed like a curtain. No visibility. There is no trace in sight. Only white. I paused, insecure from my next movement, until a group of local hikers looked like ghosts outside the fog. They knew the way and they pointed to me in the right direction. With his help, Gaia GPS and a little faith, I found the way down. Five minutes after the descent, the fog cleared as if he had never been there at all.

A longer welcome than expected

The path took me through a lava field, along another glacial river, and finally returned to the camp. What was supposed to be a fast loop became an adventure of 9.5 miles, and the perfect way to meet Iceland in its own wild terms.

Campaign time

Back in the camp, I made a decision: no more socialize tonight. I cooked in the lobby (the boiled water counts as cooking, thank you very much) and ate a quinoa bowl covered with takis creaks and Icelandic chocolate for dessert. No Gourmet, but gave the place.

I let my phone load while writing a little in my diary. I made a sleeping pill, I didn’t alarm and gave myself permission to rest.

Tomorrow is a seven -mile day. I know I can do that. There is no pressure. The sun never gets here, so I will walk when it is ready.

Just where I should be

Today’s walk was longer than planned, but also exactly what he needed. I did not think about work or invoices or anything outside this country of volcanic and mossy wonders. I was here. In my body. In this earth. Advancing.

On the 0 reminded me that the path begins before his first step. He begins in his doubts, his dreams, his bank accounts, his dinner conversations. Start when you say: «I think I want this», and someone replies: «I know you will.»

And now? I’m here. On the edge of a trip I have been building for months. And he feels very, very good.