In spite of an old fisherman's warnings, we got over the high col to reach the Hornstrandir peninsula in full winter season, or "storm season". The cold and gail skies did truly transform into an arctic tempest : howling and freezing winds with a raging sea, pounding rain and hailstones falling horizontaly. The smallest streams transformed themselves into violent torrents and everything became nothing more than pure pandemonium, as any progression quickly became impossible...