Prior to arriving in Iceland I had talked to a few people who had already been. The most common responses was that the weather and landscape was always changing. Day one didn’t disappoint in that respect. I was also told that the environment can seem somewhat alien, as in you’re on another planet, not alien as in you’ve lived all your life in a big city and suddenly find yourself in a rural setting.

I’d have to say that aside from the lava-fields everything felt a little familiar. For quite a bit of this day the scenery reminded me of places I had visited in Britain – the moors and Scottish highlands mostly. Even the distinct absence of trees couldn’t shake this notion and although excited to be here I wasn’t too impressed with Iceland thus far.

The day started very grey, wet and windy but the sun soon broke through the clouds to give us blue skies and rainbows. I was taking in the scenery much of the day rather than seeking something good to photograph and was happy enough to go for a walk every now and then. Highlights were the sulphur springs for their pungent eggy smell and a waterfall simply because it is a waterfall.

Although seemingly uneventful, day one helped ease us in to our journey. It is not often you get to see a rainbow or a waterfall and the hot water in Iceland has the same eggy smell of the geothermal sulphur springs. Little did I know at the end of day one that these would be regular features for the days to follow.

Hot showers in the morning meant waking up to the smell of rotten eggs. It’s actually not that bad once you get used to it. However, experiencing it for the first time means you are either shocked into full consciousness or end up fainting. Wide awake then we set off on what was to be a spectacular day.

Sun and blue skies throughout helped us get over the patchy weather yesterday. It wasn’t this that made the day special. We covered a lot of ground and at every turn we saw some breathtaking scenery. Today was definitely picture postcard day. We got to see waterfalls, rainbows, mirror lakes, snow covered mountains with glaciers and waves crashing against ice on an ashen beach.

Pick of the day for me was a lighthouse on-top a cliff edge at Dyrhólaey. We were there initially to visit a natural arch in the rocks but ended up the wrong side of it for the time of day seeing it only as a silhouette against the bright morning sun. The light was magnificent though and turned the dead grass around a wonderful golden brown. The lighthouse, and a smattering of outhouses, with nothing else in sight for miles gave me a sense of remoteness and planted a seed in my mind that would inform the rest of this photographic journey.

Day three saw us drive round to the far side of Iceland through the eastern coastal fjords. Much of the day was grey with only intermittent glimpses of blue peeking through clouds threatening to burst but never doing so.

Throughout, the landscape seemed sparse and barren with long stretches of straight empty road reinforcing the sense of solitude and isolation I had started to feel yesterday. Nick had burnt a CD to play in the car that had Sigur Rós’s Takk album on. The atmospheric harmonies was the perfect soundtrack and one could instantly tell that their music was heavily inspired by their native land.

Driving through miles upon miles of similar terrain meant there was a certain languid monotony about the day. However, both Jeff and Nick had the good sense to swap their wide-angle lens for some macro and telephoto opportunities that arose. Being the only non-driver of the group, I was content to enjoy the ride to soak in the scenery and music, letting any creative juices flow through my mind rather than my camera. It was almost hypnotic.

I only really woke up, in the visual sense, as we started to leave the coast and drive up a snow covered mountain. The view from the top looking down into the valley was breathtaking. Snowball throwing aside, we took a quality moment to enjoy the panorama.

Toward the end of the day we reached another waterfall at Hengifoss. It was a fair steep climb and we were rapidly losing light so we had to make haste. Alas my lungs packed-in halfway up, the path was starting to get narrow and precipitous and there was a high wind blowing. Only Jeff made it to the top. Whilst waiting for him to return, I sat there alone to watch the sun set and contemplate the vast open land below.

Yesterday my mind was filled with images of rocky barren landscape. Even though we had a taste of snow traversing a mountain range, the other side of which remained snow-free and would not prepare us for what lay ahead.

Heading out of the valley and lowlands again into another mountainous area we soon came across more snow. Slowly but surely as we kept on climbing higher everything around turned to white. Here came that feeling of isolation again, only magnified to an extreme.

The air was clear and crisp. Freshly fallen snow a few days before remained pristine. Two to three feet deep in places the only traces of high winds today were those impressed upon the snow forming sweeping channels between the rocky surface underneath. At Dettifoss the snow was left untouched by wind or man and was so deep and smooth it looked like someone had poured cream over it. None more so than at this point did I sense the remote solitude of this island. You can’t but help to sit and admire the view nature laid out before us.

We would not have witnessed the magnificent waterfall at Dettifoss had it not been for some skillful driving by Jeff. One family we helped lay victim to deep snow and we were almost stranded ourselves at one point. Thankfully, Jeff managed to coax our four-wheel drive into pressing on.

Well past the midpoint of our journey we set off once more to discover what else this incredible country had to offer. It was too much to ask to better the serene yet awe inspiring expanse of snow the day before. Regrettably it proved to be so. Just like the two perfectly still mirror lakes we passed, today was a reflection of the past two days. Although it provided a different kind of calm and tranquility it paled in comparison making the landscape look almost ordinary.

Save for a few Icelandic ponies not even a lengthy detour round the mountains to follow the coastal road would lift the level of excitement and adventure we experienced yesterday. There were of course some wonderful things to see. It’s hard not to in a country as varied as this. Perhaps tired eyes played a part too, but the day as a whole could not top the previous day. But that was fine, we have had a fantastic journey thus far and there was always tomorrow.

A pattern had been forming where one day was relatively unremarkable followed by a day of excitement and wonder. Yesterday came across as one of those uneventful days so today should have been quite exciting. It was not, with rain and mist affecting the mood. Having said that, mist added an enigmatic and ethereal air to the landscape and proved an interesting photographic challenge.

Just as on day one when we were eased into our journey so it was on our last day here. Soothing scenes and a short journey back to Reykjavik ensured a leisurely pace to ease us out again.

Throughout our trip we had passed through towns, villages and farmhouses. However, it wasn’t until we reached the waterfall at Gullfoss, teeming with coach loads of tourists, that I came back to earth to once again acknowledge civilisation. Iceland is roughly the size of Scotland and Wales put together but with a population of only 300,000. During this off-peak season the majority of the time we had only ourselves and the amazing open landscape for company. Nearing the end of a long and sometimes arduous journey I was ready to relinquish the sensation of seclusion I had been harbouring.

The whole tour had been a mind-blowing experience. I think my only regret was that we never managed to see the aurora.