Feature: Disco days in Iceland

The river is frozen - how solid, we have yet to find out. We've been out and surveyed the scene while various ropes and winches are connected, but it's a little, shall we say, fresh out there, with winds blowing in excess of 50mph contributing to temperatures of between -30 and -40 degrees. When you leave the car, the expression on your face is generally the one that stays with you until you return to remould.

It's not just the surface layer of snow that whips around you, it's the black volcanic ash that slowly corrodes the top layer of skin: it would sting if you had any feeling, but I have little skin on show.

It rather begs the question, what am I doing here, in deepest Iceland? Could I not have taken one along a few green lanes in soggy Sussex?

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