A cold wind cuts across the parking lot at Skaftafell and, a few minutes later, you are bumping along a gravel track in a 4x4 toward the glacier's jagged edge. The vehicle thumps, tires coughing up dust and volcanic gravel, then falls silent as the mass of Vatnajökull fills the horizon. Underfoot the ice is not white but an impossible, deep blue; light filters through compacted layers and the cave ahead seems to glow from within. Your guide checks crampons and harness, then points at a ribbon of crevasses that run like stitches across the ice. You step on, the metal teeth bite in, and the glacier takes you forward.