I have been feeling a rising inner conflict between investigating and sharing the beauty of the High North, and the toll it takes upon the environment and myself to travel. If it weren’t for a convenient combination of visiting my father and other family, and work, I probably would not have gone to Iceland for this exact reason. How hard to acknowledge that sometimes when you love something, the kindest and most loving thing you can do is to leave it be.

Yet Iceland felt like home, soft, welcoming once I got there. Plants, stones and creatures that feel like friends that I haven’t seen in a while. The smell of birch leaves and arctic thyme will always have a special place in my heart.

I managed to climb three peaks in a week. Perhaps two and a half peak, because my knees starting protesting on the last hike and I wanted to save my energy for an upcoming campaign on Svalbard.