He accompanied me several miles on my road, and we chatted away the time very pleasantly.
The distance between Krisuvik and Keblevik is about forty-two miles.

The road lies through a most dreary landscape, among vast desert plains, frequently twenty-five to thirty miles in circumference, entirely divested of all traces of vegetation, and covered throughout their extreme area by masses of lava--gloomy monuments of volcanic agency.

And yet here, at the very heart of the subterranean fire, I saw only a single mountain, the summit of which had fallen in, and presented the appearance of a crater.

The rest were all completely closed, terminating sometimes in a beautiful round top, and sometimes in sharp peaks; in other instances they formed long narrow chains.
Who can tell whence these all-destroying masses of lava have poured forth, or how many hundred years they have lain in these petrified valleys?
Keblevik lies on the sea-coast; but the harbour is insecure, so that ships remain here at anchor only so long as is absolutely necessary; there are frequently only two or three ships in the harbour.
A few wooden houses, two of which belong to Herr Knudson, and some peasants' cottages, are the only buildings in this little village.

I was hospitably received, and rested from the toils of the day at the house of Herr Siverson, Herr Knudson's manager.
On the following day (June 6th) I had a long ride to Reikjavik, thirty-six good miles, mostly through fields of lava.
The whole tract of country from Grundivik almost to Havenfiord is called "The lava-fields of Reikianes." Tired and almost benumbed with cold, I arrived in the evening at Reikjavik, with no other wish than to retire to rest as fast as possible.
In these three days I had ridden 114 miles, besides enduring much from cold, storms, and rain.