In the summer of 2014, I spent a few weeks in the Westfjords of Iceland before travelling and hitch-hiking around the island from north to south. My time in the Westfjords was the first real taste of isolation in my travels, and I fell in love with that quiet peacefulness.
I stayed with a family in what was once a booming fisherman's village perched by a large fjord. Now, the village was dilapidated and forgotten. Access to the village was at the end of an extremely rough gravel track which could turn your car on it's side at any moment. During my time in the village, I helped the family renovate weather-torn buildings, then burn down the buildings beyond repair (that was the fun part!).
At the end of our long days in the Westfjords, we would find ourselves driving 10 miles down the treacherous dirt track, to a naturally heated geothermal swimming pool on the beach. It was the perfect way to end every day of hard work, watching the sun skirt the horizon while relaxing in the pool.