All morning we drove through relatively tame terrain, rolling hills of green pastures and fields, the mountains in the background less steep than normal, without snow on the tops and even some swatches of green climbing the slopes. Since around noon, the surrounding landscape has gotten increasingly wild, the pastures giving way to yellowish moss, a few crags and small waterfalls here and there. Then the crags started increasing in number, sprouting large cliffs of stones-like pillars on both sides and the ground becoming covered in brown shrubs with shifting green leaves. We finally started climbing along the edge of a fjord, getting glimpses of multiple islands off to our right and have just come round a bend heading towards the bottom of the fjord. Here the slopes are steeper but still green, coming down to the low tide wetlands of the bay and up the other side, and at the top of the slope the mountains rise like sheer walls of jagged dark grey rock, a knife edge line etched against a milky sky. I fear I write too much about this landscape but I simply cannot get enough of this barren beauty.