Blönduós is the place where the Kjölur finally lets you go. After a hundred and fifty kilometres or more of gravel, glaciers and nothing, the road drops into the green valley of the Blanda river, and the first farms and the first tarmac feel like a small miracle. The town sits at the river mouth, on the north coast of the Húnaflói bay, with a population of under a thousand and a quiet, tidy air, and it is a good place to recover.
The ride into town is a gentle one, with long, easy bends along the river and the surface improving with every kilometre, until you meet the Ring Road. The river is glacier-fed and silvery grey, and the valley is full of sheep, horses and old farms. Be careful of livestock on the road, and look out for the single-lane bridges. The wind off the bay can be brisk, and in early summer the fog sometimes sits on the coast.
The river divides the town in two, and the buildings reflect different eras. On one side are the older wooden houses, some of them from the early twentieth century, and on the other the more modern district, with a distinctive church designed in the shape of a crystal or a rock formation, a bold concrete structure that looks like nothing else in the country. The town also has a textile museum, with an exhibition of Icelandic handicraft, and a heritage centre with the history of the district's people.
Nature is characteristic of the north. The river is a famous salmon river, and anglers come here in summer, and the coast is rich in seabirds. Seals bask on the skerries, and the air smells of salt and wet grass. The light in the evening, with the sun sinking behind the bay, is soft and gold.
Blönduós has the services you would expect of a small town, with a shop, a petrol station, cafes and places to stay. Sauðárkrókur, farther along the coast, is another town for supplies. After the Kjölur, a hot meal and a clean bed are treats.