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The road now ran through the absolutely flat plain resembling more a desert in Mauretania than a part of Iceland. This has nevertheless been a very hostile area and it was only in the seventies of the past century that road construction allowed a halfway reliable passage. A few basic bridges passed the rivers which had been fenced by massive dams in order to get a bit more control over the inevitable next flooding.
It takes about half an hour to drive through Skeidararsandur and – especially with the right lighting – it is an almost hypnotic drive. The dam that builds the road is running straight for endless kilometres with only a handful of bends. On both sides of the dam stretch endless flats of black gravel with barely a plant growing on it, with a couple of river beds crossing it. At the far northern end of the plain the mountain chain with its snow-capped summits and the glaciers is visible during clear weather.
It is a monotonous but meditative drive. Once you reach the bridge across the river at the southern border of the alluvium prepare for a dramatic change of the scenery. The mountain range now follows the coast again and everything is covered with low growing vegetation in a myriad of greenish colours. At the beginning it was mainly grass covering mountain flanks, plains and rocks. But the further south I drove the more moss took over.
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