Eyjafjallajökull the word was on everyone's lips in the spring of 2010 - well actually it wasn't as it as it is almost impossible for non-Icelandic speakers to say. It was fun watching the various newsreaders try to pronounce it as they explained why a relatively small volcanic eruption in far off Iceland managed to ground planes all over Europe for a week. Back then, living in Prague, it just meant that we got to see more of Steve as he couldn't fly out for work. Fast forward 8 years, literally a whole world's journey away for us, and the four of us are sweating our way upwards towards the crater site. 

I longed to do a long multiday hike in Iceland but two and a half people carrying everything that is needed for four, is hard work. Plus we'd seen the hiking huts, one long platform with mattresses in a row, the children's song "There were ten in the bed and the little one rolled over" came to mind. The final straw when we found out the cost £60 each, "We could stay in a five star hotel for £240!" spluttered Steve. Instead he came with the ingenious idea to walk half of the Fimmvörduháls trek, stop for lunch at the world's newest mountains created by the 2010 eruption, then return to the truck for a cosy night in our own beds. We would then drive around to Skógafoss, the other end of the walk, and hike up to where we stopped the preceding day. It was so genius, that I had to refrain from teasing him on how soft he had become. The kids could easily manage the 50km over a couple of days, especially if there was chocolate involved. 

The road in to the northern part was another F - road. Our guidebook gave dire warnings that it was only for large, amphibious 4x4 with experienced drivers, so we proceeded very cautiously. We needn't have worried, the scaremongering was just to deter the rented tiny Suzuki Jimmy drivers. The river crossings were fun but not at all taxing for Truckie. Of course we found that out only once I had done the right thing and waded across to check the river's depth. Sometimes being the navigator sucks - that glacial melt water was very cold! 

  The trek turned out to be a stunner too. Up through the birch "forest", prompting the girls to tell us their only Icelandic joke several times each ("What should you do if you are lost in an Icelandic forest?" - "Stand up") to alpine meadows where we could see part of the massive Vatnajökull ice cap. As we continued forever upwards, the scenery become starker as we crunched our way through black and red larval fields. Further up still, the sun reflected blindingly off the snowy slopes as we trekked between two glaciers. The two newest mountains in Europe turned out to be black larva cones, a perfect place for a picnic.

The following day, after an hours drive, we started the other end of the walk -completely confusing the hikers we had met the preceding day. Twenty six or so waterfalls, we lost count, fall in the canyon below the path. It was lush, green and far less steep that the preceding day. The views were perfect as distant glaciers glinted in the blue sky. Each of the waterfalls would have been amazing in its own right but so many in one canyon was awe inspiring. The girls had to be lured up the last couple of slopes with the promise of lunch, only to find dark grey clouds whipping in at speed carrying a deluge. You have to be prepared for "four seasons in one day" in Iceland, so out came the full gear as we raced back down the mountain. Soggy sandwiches were had eventually, when it had slackened to just a downpour.

Iceland is very much on the global tourist horizons. The numbers of visitors has grown exponentially over the last 8 years. In a country of just 330,000 people, over 2 million visitors a year is an awful lot of people. Tourists are drawn to its unique and pristine environment causing a lot of strain. Because of this in 2015, wild camping was banned. Something we can understand, as so many people hire tiny campers with no toilets and facilities are few and far between. We even saw signs on the driveways to farms, asking people not to poo there, it must have gotten very bad. So now the campsites are absolutely bursting at the seams and the facilities unable to cope with the numbers. Lots of people camp because the country is so expensive, although it was also the most expensive country in the world we've been to for camping and you had to pay even more for a shower. As we sat dry and cosy in Truckie, I was so pleased we were not in a tent. It would be a beautiful country to wild camp, for those of us who can "leave no trace" but it has always been our policy to abide by the rules of the country, so we didn't. Along Route 1, especially in the south-east the crowds could only be escaped by hiking off up into the interior. However, the place is absolutely unique and special so the hoards didn't detract from the wonder. Part of our problem I feel, is that the four years on the road has spoilt us. We've seen the most amazing places on all seven continents, often we've had the place virtually to ourselves. 

One of the most otherworldly sights came on our last day on our clockwise circumnavigation of the island, the sapphire blue icebergs marooned on the black volcanic sand at Jökuksárlon. Huge chunks of ice has made their way over a thousand years to the bottom of one of the offshoots of the Vatnajökull icecap, where they break off into a lagoon. The lake is littered with icebergs of amazing shape sculpted by the elements and every colour between ice white to deep blue and every turquoise. Some have striped layers of ash, from ancient volcanic eruptions and a couple were completely black. The icebergs can bob around for several years in the lagoon before breaking free in the rushing waters of the shortest river in Iceland, which takes them a few hundred metres to the ocean. The tides then maroon them along the black beach, so you can get close to marvel at their ethereal beauty.

From there it was just a few hundred kilometres back to meet the ferry at Seydisfjörddur for the 3 day journey at sea to Denmark. A sunny afternoons stop in Torshavn, the capital of the Faroe Islands, gave us a chance to explore its tiny historic centre, something we'd saved for the way back. Then it was just 2 more days drive home.