Tag Archives: Iceland

Day 7 – Fossicking

Monday 5th July 2021. We had the luxury of a slightly late start in that we were leaving the hotel as late as 10.30. This gave us the opportunity to have a wander around Akureyri.  We’d been past the botanical garden en route to the hotel yesterday, and thought this might be a decent starting point. And There Was A Church….

Akureyri is the capital town for the region and, like the UK’s capital, has charm in sporadic doses among other, less appealing, aspects.  But there is quirkiness, such as the pavement outside the art museum

and the steps that lead to the college.

There are also fine edifices, such as the college’s main building

and other residences.

The botanical garden, one of the most northerly in the world at only 50km south of the Arctic Circle, was created in 1912 and has extended over the years to form a pleasant oasis, free to enter and walk around.

Worth a visit for all floraphiles, but I won’t bore you with too many photos.  It’s only flowers, after all…

On the way down, we passed the church, which shows some art deco influences

and featured ravens on its spires.

The town has some pleasing buildings among the workmanlike ones.

As we left, Dagur was upbeat about the weather prospects for the day.  Akureyri, however, was pretty much blanketed by fog.

But, as we emerged, blinking, from a tunnel shortly after we hit the road, the weather on the exit side of the hill was completely different

and stayed pretty good for most of the day.

The first two ports of call were waterfalls. (The Icelandic for waterfall, by the way, is “foss”, just in case you were wondering about the title of this post.)

Dagur decided on the hoof to visit the first one, which is called Aldeyjarfoss.  There’s a slightly precarious walk down to it, but it was definitely worth the diversion.

 

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The second styles itself, rather immodestly, as “The Waterfall of the Gods” or Goðafoss. It is an impressive sight, one has to admit.

 

 

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Since the sun was out, rainbows were on offer in the spray.

There was a restaurant by these falls, at which we bought some (sadly not particularly appetising) lunch. But at least they also had beer and Earl Grey tea, so all was not lost.

After lunch we headed for our overnight destination, beside Lake Myvatn. The landscape changed as we approached, from the rolling, farmy sort of countryside to a more austere, rocky appearance, which signified that we were in an area of geothermal activity – hot springs, in other words.  The water can come out of the ground at 100°C (as they discovered the hard way when excavating the tunnel that led us through from Akureyri), and so has obvious uses for heating, such as the Myvatn Nature Baths nearby.

What I couldn’t show in photos was the seething, steaming cauldron nearby with “Danger – 100°C” warning signs on it.

The rest of the day was spent exploring this new, extraordinary – and active – landscape. We stopped first at the Námafjall Geothermal Area. which features smoking fumaroles and boiling mud pots, surrounded by sulphur crystals of many different colours. This sulphur gives the area an overwhelming smell of eggs, and ones that have not been treated well, at that.

It really is an extraordinary landscape

but then almost everything in this area is.  There’s a geothermal energy plant

a volcanic mountain, Kafla, with its very own crater lake

and a huge area called Leirhnjúkur, which is basically a field of lava from eruptions over a period during the 1970s and 1980s.  A walking trail leads across it to the crater of Hófur, and the entire landscape is utterly extraordinary.  I took loads of pics, obvs, and here are some of them.

 

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(Jane has to take the credit for setting up the last shot for me – pointing me in the right direction after I’d been looking in the wrong place.).

We walked the area for about 90 minutes, marvelling all the way at the amazing landscape – just another facet of Iceland’s stupendous geology.

We then went to our hotel, the Fosshotel

which proved to be very good – excellently organised rooms, good food in the restaurant, and it will be our pleasure to stay here two nights.  Mind you, Jane thinks the cocktail barman needs to up his game a bit.  We’ll see how he gets on when asked for a Boulevardier tomorrow evening…..

We have more waterfalls to see tomorrow, among other delights which I shall be sure to report in these here pages.  So do please come back again to catch up with the delights of our next day out.

 

Day 6 – Hallo, Turf*

Sunday 4th July 2021. Happy Independence Day, people in the USA!

The usual obsessing about the weather attended our waking, and actually the day looked to be just, you know, ordinary – no sun, but then again no rain, which put us ahead of the game, in our view. And here’s our view of the hotel, to give you an idea of the weather today.

The day promised to be a mixed bag, with a variety of cultural experiences on the schedule. Our first stop was to gawp at a rock formation near the hotel called Hvitserkur, but described to us as a “drinking dragon”.  It took us a little while to see it….

…but actually, if you think of the left hand end as the head, it becomes clearer.  Jane swears it’s more like a drinking donkey with a load on its back, and I’m remaining neutral on the rock naming issue.  The scenery around this point is quite appealing

but it is clear that we’ve left the Westfjords area with its air of being a rock-and-moss-strewn Wild And Lonely Place.  Generally, this, the northern region, has a much less savage landscape.

Our day would take us over 200km through north-western region and into the north-eastern region, ending up at the regional capital of Akureyri. But we had several aspects of Icelandic culture to experience en route, not the least of which being a record haul of unusual churches, which seem to be a bit of A Thing in Iceland.  We started  this collection at Þingeyrakirkja (pronounced “Thingeyrakirkjya”, but I want you to know that I’ve mastered the knack of getting Icelandic characters into my blog posts).

Construction of the church took 13 years and required transporting stone from Nesbjörg, a scene of historical battles against the Vikings, throughout the winter of 1864-65, by sled over the ice-covered lake Hóp on an 8-km journey. It’s slightly unusual, being a Roman Catholic church in a land whose church is officially Lutheran.  Being Roman Catholic it has, of course, got some fancy artefacts in it.  The church itself was locked, which meant peering through the window into a gloomy church with the interior backlit by the windows opposite.

However, with the combined miracles of modern digital camera sensors and intelligent software, it became clearer what we were looking at.

There was also a gallery visible through a different window.  The processing results were less impressive, but still gave a fair idea of what was inside.

Thank you Nikon and DxO.  Oh, and Jane, for helping me deal with the worst of reflections in the window glass.

A church would be the subject of our next stop, but on the way there we got a reminder that we were in horse country.

Iceland has a unique genetic strain of horses and the authorities go to extreme lengths to keep it pure; Icelandic horses (never “ponies” in polite Icelandic company, despite the fact that they’re all smaller than 15.2 hands) are famous in riding circles for having a unique gait, halfway between walk and trot, called “tölt”.

So: next church: this one is Blönduóskirkja – so-called because it’s in a town called Blönduós  – and features another eccentric design.

Today being Sunday, we thought it might be open.  Like so many churches around the island, it wasn’t.

The next stop was also a church and the start of our brush with Icelandic turf constructions. It is called Víðimýrarkirkja, and is part of the Skagafjörður Heritage Museum (Skagafjörður is the name of the county it’s in). It’s small but beautifully formed.

and the inside is a delight both to look at

and to smell – it has a wonderful, woody, scent.

One of the other parts of the Heritage Museum is at Glaumbær, and also heavily features turf.

It looks like several turf houses

but this is an illusion.  If you step in the main entrance above and explore, it becomes clear that it goes back a long way

and there are different rooms off this passageway, such as this kitchen.

In fact, the whole construction is one house, constructed in sections up to 1879, which would have belonged to a wealthy person (a bishop, actually) and where some 24 people would have lived.  The timbers in the house give away the fact that this was a wealthy man’s house, as timber is a scarce resource in Iceland because the original settlers chopped down all the trees. A more typical example would have much less timber and of much coarser quality.  There are around a dozen turf houses left in Iceland, all examples of dwellings of wealthy people, and some were even inhabited as late as the 1960s.  The buildings look great now, but life in them would not have been too wonderful – two dozen people crammed into such a space would not have been that pleasant, and it’s too easy to romanticise life back then.

I’ve got a load more photos of the other rooms and the outer sections – toolsheds, etc – but don’t want to bore you more than I’m already doing, so I’ll move on, as we in fact did.

Dagur next took us on a tour of his native town, Skagafjörður, before we stopped off at Hofsos, a pretty village with a lovely harbour.

We then spent some time with Dagur’s mother, father, younger brother and niece, who have a summer house nearby; it was a very pleasant interlude, and they are a charming and hospitable family.

Our final brush with Icelandic culture was to visit Siglufjörður, which was a centre of a huge herring processing industry in Iceland, and is now home to the Herring Era Museum.  The town itself is quite handsome.

It would have been even more so had the fog not obscured the mountains, but it’s an appealing place.  To the left in the picture above is the Sigló Hótel, an imposing and attractive building, which is a strong candidate for a stay when we come back to Iceland in the future.

The Herring Museum itself (visible on the far quayside in the picture above) is very interesting as it gives a superb insight into the extraordinary size, scope and complexity of the herring industry which was so important to Iceland (still is, in fact, but it’s much more industrialised now).  Again, I have dozens of photos but will just show you a couple here.

The museum is actually five buildings of which three contain exhibits.  The biggest one is the boathouse.

As well as boats, it has examples of fishing equipment of all sorts, and a couple of idiosyncratic wooden figures of people from that era: a fishwife;

and an old salt, clearly out to try something on with passing people.

The next building is the fish oil factory, which shows the sort of huge machinery used to process herring into oil and fishmeal.

Upstairs is a gallery which gives a lot of information about the history and size of the industry and the importance of its products.

One gets a powerful impression of how tough the life must have been – hard labour in unremittingly unpleasant conditions. The third building covers the salting process and also contains the lodging for the “herring girls” who worked there in the summers.

As Jane pointed out, most ships have a bridge in them, but this is ridiculous.

Shortly after this visit, we arrived in Akureyri and checked into our room, so far towards the furthest reaches of the hotel that the WiFi reached only intermittently), at the Kea Hotel (comfortable enough, but so cramped that if one person is sitting at the desk, another can’t get round to the window) before heading out for a decent meal at a nearby restaurant called Strikið. We’ll explore the town more tomorrow and I’ll report back, so stay tuned for the gen on this, the capital of the northern region, and more waterfalls.

 

*  The title of this post is after an idea proposed by my wife. I just thought you ought to know this.

Day 5 – What the fox that?

Saturday 3rd July, 2021.  One gets to be obsessed with the weather while on holiday in Iceland.  It’s not a conversation-easer like in England; here, it really matters.  The forecast for the day was hopeful.

but the reality was much better.

Ísafjörður looked lovely in the sunshine; and Jane pointed out that it also has an unusual-looking church. It seems to be a thing here.

We set off into the sunshine with a song in our hearts and a long day’s driving ahead.

Then we ran into the fog.

However, Dagur Had A Plan, and so took us up into the hills, where we could get some good views looking down on the clouds, which is always nice.

Today, we learned the proper Icelandic word for the “Valley Fog” that we’d first noticed yesterday. It’s called “dalalæða”; “dala” means valley, if my knowledge of Swedish is anything to go by.  This is a form of sea mist, but it’s pretty much unique to Iceland, as far as I can make out. Every so often for the rest of the day we entered a bank of mist, or it figured as part of the view.  So, for example, we stopped at an outdoor maritime museum at Bolungarvik, and could barely make it out through the mist.

But the mist also provided a lovely backdrop to a photo of Ísafjörður.

Our next stop was at a museum dedicated to the Icelandic Arctic Fox.  Officially, this is the same as arctic foxes found elsewhere; but an interesting information film gave the impression that actually the genetic makeup of most of the Iceland population is diverging from those elsewhere. It’s an appealing place

with coffee and cake if you want it, and several (stuffed) examples of foxes, such as this, which we judged to be the finest specimen on display.

Both Jane and I were under the impression that arctic foxes had a winter (white) coat, which changed into a summer (dark) coat.  It turns out that we were wrong; there are two “morphs”, white and blue, and while their coats may change a little in colour, it’s not the transformation that we’d previously thought.

And outside, in a large caged-off area, they have a real, live, fox.

Arctic fox cub

It’s just a pup; a Bambi fox, because apparently it’s parents were shot. It’s not known what its future holds, but for now, it is supremely cute.

Further cuteness was on display a short while later, as Dagur suddenly braked, turned round and went back along the road we’d come along.  It turned out that he’d spotted a lone seal on a rock, and so stopped and took some photos.

There is an “official” place to view seals a little further around the coast, so we stopped there; but one really needed binoculars to see the seals; my general-purpose lens could barely pick them out.

and my phone couldn’t do the scene justice, either.

(though, once again, this image is a tribute to the imaging power of modern phone cameras.  I could barely distinguish between seals and stones with the naked eye).

Shortly after this, we had a scenery stop at Rjukandi, where there’s a pretty cascade. But this is Iceland, so it’s not a real waterfall.  We did venture off-piste to try for a photo of three others.

I particularly wanted to capture this as a wonderful demonstration, suitable for any geography/geology lesson, of water’s power of erosion.

It was time for lunch, and serendipity stepped in at this point, as we were near a place where we could see a round of Vestfjarðavíkingurinn 2021, the Icelandic Strongest Man competition.

It was slightly surreal to see these large chaps congregating

and I was lucky enough to get a little video footage of a couple of the contestants

after which they came into the restaurant for lunch.

The commentator is a very big name in Iceland – Magnus Ver Magnusson, who won the World’s Strongest Man competition four times.

After this unusual lunch stop, we next visited Saltverk, a small factory producing some of Iceland’s (apparently) famous sea salt in a 100% sustainable fashion, based on a geothermal source at Sudureyri.

This heat is used to evaporate salt water taken from the sea from its normal salinity of around 3.5%, in stages, to around 28%, where the salt starts to separate out in its tanks and sink to the bottom, where it can be collected.

and then put into drying racks before being packaged up.

The salt is mixed with other ingredients such as thyme, or smoked, or sold untouched by further processing.

The rest of the day consisted of simply getting to our hotel, and thus completing a journey of over 350km.  The scarcity of towns and villages as we travelled underlines how isolated these parts of Iceland are, and goes some way to explaining why some places are struggling – the distances are too large for any kind of convenience in living.

We passed a couple of noteworthy buildings on our route to the hotel:  a house that looks more like a small castle (unoccupied definitely, and abandoned, it would seem);

and another for our informal collection of unusual church buildings – this one at Holmavik with rainbow steps.

And so here we are at our hotel, at Laugarbakki – a modern and quite imposing edifice, with, as we’ve now come to expect, very good food in the restaurant.  Jane had a salad which included unusual-coloured pea pods:

She didn’t eat it, of course, as she’s not a Purple Peapod Eater.

So here we are at the end of a varied day. We have a similarly mixed programme of things to look forward to tomorrow, so I’d be very glad if you were to come back and Read All About It then. For now, good night!