All good things...

So, a quarter of a year has flown by and I have officially left the Iceland bubble! Apologies in advance for the more serious tone of this post, it's a time for reflection and all...

Those final weeks were a little scary, as the end was in sight and the real world, along with all of its decisions, choices and responsibilities, was looming ever closer. We all had something to face up to, whether it was job hunting, going to university, or moving to a new city. Conveniently, or not depending on how you look at it, our penultimate week was spent in Skaftafell, where we had internet access again after almost a month of blissful ignorance in remote locations such as Thorsmork, Landmannalaugar and Nyidalur. I must admit that I found it hard at times to cope with working out in the national park all day, pulling up lupin and fixing blocked drains, and then coming back to the hut in the evenings to emails from friends making arrangements to meet up once I got home. It was like trying to exist in two universes at once. My head didn't know where it wanted to be and so I was glad to escape to Eldgja for the final week.

We had a wonderful time in Eldgja (a massive fissure that was formed in AD934, in the highlands between Landmannalaugar and Laki) working with two rangers, building wooden steps in glorious weather. We also did a lot of hiking and spent a night at a fishing hut in the middle of nowhere. It was really quite special and I think that Eldgja and the surrounding area is one of Iceland's hidden gems. Countless people stop for an hour on the bus to Landmannalaugar and take a walk to the waterfall Ofaerufoss, which is beautiful, but then they miss out on experiences such as the views from the top of Gjatindur or Sveinstindur, both short climbs that we did after work. We had a clear sky on both evenings and could see an incredible distance, as far as Myrdallsjokull to the south, Laki to the east, Vatnajokull to the north-east, Hofsjokull to the north and Hekla to the west. That's a pretty huge chunk of Iceland. I remember Carmel sitting on one of the summits and saying something along the lines of, "whenever I feel stressed during the coming weeks back home, I will close my eyes and try and come back to this place." I do find it comforting to know that Iceland, and those special places, will always be there to escape to, now that I know they are there.

Eldgja

Arriving back in London, the first thing I noticed was how well dressed people were. I found myself strangely attached to my hiking boots and fleeces. A week later I am still trying to wean myself back into trainers (my poor ankles are unsupported and have a mind of their own!) and you can forget about high heels. My make up bag sits there untouched and I have thrown away or donated countless possessions that I didn't miss and don't need. And having got used to only spending money at a petrol station shop once a week, I haven't been tempted to buy things just for the sake of buying them, which is so easy to do at home with online shopping and 24 hour supermarkets and 'convenience stores' everywhere. Convenient for whom? I have definitely come back with a fresh perspective on what is really important in life and I hope it stays with me as I venture back out into the big wide world.

A final thought: I am so proud to have been a part of the Wilderness Management team - it was a privilege to have spent time with such an easygoing, mature group of people who were unfailingly tolerant and respectful of each others' likes, dislikes, moods and habits. Holiday week, when nine of us hired a van and hit the road with only a vague plan of where to go, was a case in point: there was no tension, no arguments over what to do and when, just a couple of guidebooks and a relaxed attitude. When we were hungry, we stopped to eat, when we were tired, we found a place to camp, taking a vote on whether to wild camp or find a campsite. Sometimes we did group walks, sometimes people went off on their own, no problem. Some drove, some navigated, some sorted out hostels, some cooked, some washed up. It sounds so simple, and for once it actually was. So, thanks to all of you, and to everyone else I worked with, for such a great summer. See you all again next year...?

ICV life part three: Work

Ah yes, after sleeping and food comes work. The reason why we are here.

We normally work 9 to 5, Monday to Friday, with a hour for lunch (5 minutes lunch, 55 minutes nap) and two tea breaks during the day. This includes walking to the worksite, usually around a half hour walk, but I think the record this year was 13km! We carry our tools in with us and often hide them near the worksite, bringing them back on the Friday. Each team also has a leader with them, often a different person for each project. Leaders are experienced volunteers who can teach the appropriate skills and are briefed on the work that needs doing.

The work we do is extremely varied and generally requested by a local park ranger. Chas, the volunteer coordinator/big boss, will visit the site to assess the work and in some of our more regular haunts such as Skaftafell, Landmannalaugar and Mývatn, the jobs are planned out before the volunteer season begins. In other cases, a ranger may simply call Chas and request some extra pairs of hands for the following week. Other work is reactive - a boardwalk breaks, or a path floods and requires urgent repair. Some common projects:

Step building

Steep sections of hiking trails are prone to erosion over time. They can become dangerous to walk on, and tourists will avoid tricky sections by going around them, damaging vegetation and creating visible 'desire lines' that others will then follow. A good solution is to dig steps into the slope, using rocks or timber, depending on the location and what can be found nearby. The steps should be comfortable to walk on - not too steep or shallow, close together or far apart. Most importantly of all, they should be stable!

Rustic timber steps in Thórsmörk - before and after

Landscaping/pitching

Sometimes paths become unclear and people start walking all over the place. All you need is a few big tour groups and suddenly it all looks very messy. In wooded areas, this can be rectified by weaving (literally threading long branches through sticks hammered into the ground) to cover up the areas you want to protect, and making the correct route more user friendly by adding the odd step, removing trip hazards and so on. In rocky areas, this involves taking any nasty looking or loose stones off the path and digging lots of ugly, pointy ones in everywhere else. Some people will still be determined to walk on them of course, but most will look for the easiest route.

A newly landscaped path - a sight to behold

Drainage

Hiking trails cannot survive without adequate drainage dug alongside and across them. I haven't built any drains myself, but I'm told that a good stone drain is an intricate job that can take several days' work to get right.

Boardwalks and bridges

The best way to keep people from sinking into marshy ground, or falling into streams.

General trail maintenance

Blocking off desire lines, chopping back overgrowing vegetation, clearing blocked drains, widening/narrowing the path, removing trip hazards and so on.

The key to all trail work, I think, is to make it look as natural as possible. It should blend in with the surrounding landscape (no metal staircases and guardrails please!) Wherever we can, which is most places, we use natural building materials - stones for steps and drains dug up from 50m away, timber for steps and small boardwalks felled from the surrounding forest that same morning. How satisfying!

Waymarking

A fun job - hike a trail, usually to somewhere pretty, and hammer in sticks along the way so that others can find it after you, and don't go wandering off trampling on the moss.

Waymarking - a grand day out

Lupinating

The technical term for killing lupin in places where it is not wanted.

A day in the life of a ranger

In some locations, the local ranger/s will take you out with them in their car to help out with tasks that need some extra manpower. Four of us recently spent a great week in Nyídalur, in the remote highlands, with two rangers. We spent a lot of time raking over tyre tracks left by off-road drivers, which would have been a huge job for just the two of them, as well as waymarking roads and trails, and diverting the flow of streams that had flooded the road.

Damn off-road drivers - takes seconds to damage, days to repair

It's always great to spend time with Icelanders, and the park rangers tend to be a pretty special bunch who are extremely passionate about their work. It is always a worry with volunteer work that you are creating projects for the sake of keeping busy or in order to be seen to be doing something, so it's really encouraging to hear the rangers talk about the importance of the work we do and to know that we are genuinely helping them out and making a lasting impact.

ICV life part two: Food

One of the biggest surprises of the summer for me has definitely been the quality and quantity of the food provided - and the delicious meals we have managed to scrape together from basic ingredients! I have learned so many new recipes, have cooked for large groups of people for the first time, and generally eat far better than I do at home.

Typically, when a team moves to a new project site, they take a pre-packed set of 'dry' food boxes with them to last the week, and enough fresh food for a few days. The fresh is usually resupplied at some point during the week, either driven in by a member of the support team, or sent up on a public bus. A basic set of boxes for a week would look something like this:

Pasta
Rice
Lentils
Kidney beans
Chick peas
Tinned tomatos
Tinned fruit
Tinned fish
Various herbs, spices, condiments
Muesli/cereal
Porridge oats
Flour
Sugar
Biscuits and cakes (14 packets to be precise)
Dried fruit
Crackers
Peanut butter
Honey
Jam
Chocolate spread
Bread, wraps, pita
Skyr (an Icelandic speciality - like a delicious creamy yoghurt)
Cheese
Cream cheese
Sandwich meat
Eggs
Butter
Fruit and veg
Milk
Juice
Tea and coffee
Hot chocolate
Some fresh meat/fish

...plus any extras thrown in by the nice person doing the shop. I will never forget the week we got six grapefruits, four types of brie and two aubergines. Thank you Phil :) Oh, and occasionally someone shows up with a leg of lamb and a bag of charcoal and everyone rejoices.

Pilar in the food store in Reykjavík

Cooking and washing up duties are shared amongst the team members, with some unlucky soul getting up early each day to make porridge/wallpaper paste and coffee. We are seriously thinking of compiling a recipe book of the tasty dishes we have come up with using limited ingredients and equipment. It's amazing what you can do with two gas burners and some tinned tomatoes. 'Experimental' might be the right word. Favourites include:

Rustic mash

Boiled potatoes with skins on, mashed a bit, with butter, garlic and rosemary. Yum.

Weird vegetable shit with egg

Occasionally we get sent a packet of what were once frozen vegetable patties, but have inevitiably disintegrated into a crumbly mess in transit. Simply fry it all up with an egg or two cracked in and serve as a side dish - or in a sandwich.

Kedgeree

Fry whatever veggies you can find, add rice and egg. Fish optional.

Spanish omelette

Potatoes, onions and leftover veg. Surprisingly filling, as are savoury pancakes...

Generic red shit

Take some canned tomatoes, add onion, garlic and whatever else is lying around (sausages are popular). Add to pasta, rice, couscous, potatoes... or throw in chickpeas and lentils and make it into a big old stew.

Generic white shit

Butter, flour and milk = white sauce. Add cheese to make a cheesy white sauce. Add a packet of dried soup powder and veggie stock to make generic cheesy white shit pasta sauce.

Consu's salad wraps

Why use bread for sandwiches when you could simply take two large lettuce leaves and add the filling of your choice?

Crumble

If you have access to an oven, this is by far the best way to use up tinned fruit.

Dessert sandwiches

Take two wholemeal milkykex biscuits, and stick together with the help of peanut butter and chocolate spread. Mmm.

The Skyr aisle

Also, as a vegetarian, I have an advantage, as we rarely have the facilities to store fresh meat for long. Most of our meals are therefore meat free. And the frozen veggie sausages and burgers in Iceland are surprisingly good!

ICV life part one: Accommodation

So, enough of all the wonderful nature and scenery for now - what is life actually like as an Iceland Conservation Volunteer?

Well, firstly, where you eat and sleep is pretty important. Home and its comforts can take many forms...

Five *****

Your own hut, complete with bunkbeds and cooking facilities. If said hut also has electricity and/or hot water, consider yourself very fortunate indeed. The ultmate luxury? A washing machine, closely followed by wi-fi.

Four ****

Your own sleeping space, but in a shared hut - expect a large bus load of french tourists to arrive just as you are about to start cooking dinner.

Nyídalur - 4 ****

Three ***

Camping outside, but with access to cooking facilities and toilets in a shared hut.

Básar at Thórsmörk - 3 *** (almost gets an extra star for having a garlic crusher in the kitchen)

Two **

Camping outside, with a mess tent to cook and socialise in. Access to toilets and sinks at the campsite.

Hólar - 2 **

One *

Camping, a mess tent, a stream, and a selection of bushes.

We have experienced all of the above over the summer, and it is funny how electricity and hot running water feel a bit excessive these days - there is something quite wonderful about collecting water from a stream, and huddling together in a mess tent in the evenings, playing cards and telling stories to pass the time, enjoying each others' company away from all the distractions of the modern world. And believe it or not, after a week in a hut, however cosy it may be, you start to miss your tent. Really.