Advertisement
Published: November 20th 2022
Dear All
I write up this blog entry from my time in the amazing Westfjords of Iceland. I certainly had a unique time there, and it was very much off-the-beaten tourist track, which I always like. The Lonely Planet says that only around 10% of visitors to Iceland make it to this part of the country, and it is well off the beaten Ring Road circuit. It was wet, windy, rugged and wild, and I had a highly enjoyable three days there. This is the part of Iceland which looks like someone has added an octopus or a squid to its north-western edge, with tentacle-like peninsulas running off in all sorts of directions. It looks amazing on a map, and I was intrigued to visit. I was not disappointed - the area was separate and seemingly quite different from the rest of Iceland. It is rather cut-off and relatively isolated, with long roads wrapping around its endless coastline, created by dozens of fjords cutting into the whole peninsula, and in turn creating numerous mini-peninsulas sticking out into the ocean, all mountainous and rugged. With only one tunnel, the roads generally follow the coastline, and simply go up and down fjord
Ísafjörður
Westfjordsafter fjord. I imagine the total coastline length of the Westfjords to be huge compared to its land size, but I never did find this out. Due to the circuitous road routes, communication by land is difficult, and alternative ways of entering and leaving the region are by flights direct from Reykjavik to its largest settlement in the north, Ísafjörður, or by ferry to its southern shoreline near the town of Flókalundur. Although I hear it's not always like this, my time there was indeed wet, wild and very windy, with the wind whistling past the windows of my accommodation at night, and the rain driving down. With temperatures down to 3 degrees, which is just amazing in a European August, my face felt like a block of ice numerous times. I was glad I packed my thermals, jumper, hat, scarf and gloves! I had a unique and different time there, and seriously enjoyed it.
Last time I wrote I was leaving my converted cowshed near Akureryi, which was incidentally much more comfortable and cosy than it sounds. In the Westfjords, I also stayed in a wonderful Icelandic country house, this time very elegant, with really very classic and
Icelandic Sheep-Sorting Pen
Drive from Akureyri to Hólmavík swish decor. It seemed Parisian in style, and the bathroom even had a bidet, which although tempted, I didn't use. The journey there was a long four-hour drive, which included a 26-mile stint along gravel roads, which weren't my favourite. As mentioned in an earlier blog, there are three types of roads in Iceland: tarmac, gravel, or "F-Roads". I was allowed to drive my rental car on the former two, though I've been avoiding the gravel as these are dusty, pot-holed, and very gravelly. I did not find them nice to drive on, and I worried about damaging my rental car. "F-Roads" are only for 4WD, and are mainly in the Icelandic interior, or highlands - I'd not even thought about touching those. My Icelandic road map from 2016 showed three final sections of my route to the Westfjords were of the gravel kind, but I was hoping, just hoping, that they'd have been tarmacced at some point within the last six years - no such luck there though! The 26 miles of these bumpy dirt tracks, travelling along them at 30mph while others were going up to 60mph to overtake me (really?!) felt like a very long time, but
Me on Dagur
Horse-riding in the Westfjords of course I made it in the end, and very much hoped the car was alright.
Along the way, I passed the intriguing peninsula of Vatnsnes, which I would love to have visited, but its gravel roads are supposed to be treacherous for 2WD cars, so I didn't. It was intriguing for me as it is the setting for the true story behind a recent novel called "Burial Rites", soon to be made into a film apparently starring Jennifer Lawrence, and based on the story of Iceland's last public execution, of Agnes Magnúsdóttir and Friðrik Sigurðsson. They were convicted of the murder of two men in the peninsula's town of Illugastaðir, supposedly a tale of love and jealousy. While I wasn't able to visit this intriguing place, I do look forward to seeing the film when it comes out. I also managed to stop off at one of those large circular sheep-sorting pens I've seen a few times in travel programmes on Iceland. These are the locations for communal events, where all the farmers in a region come together and bring down their sheep from the mountains at the end of the summer, to keep them warmer and more
A Gravel Road
Drive from Akureyri to Hólmavík sheltered in the winter. In order to sort out which sheep belongs to which farmer, they are put in a central holding area in the middle of a large circular pen, and each person in the community sorts them out into various off-shooting pens, depending on the number they have on their ear tags. It's always been amazing to watch this event on TV, and although I was disappointed not to be able to see this spectacle for myself, I was more-than-excited to just see one and walk around it for a bit!
Finally, I arrived in the small village of Hólmavík, at the base and entrance to the Westfjords peninsula, stocked up on food and petrol in the only local, and extremely expensive supermarket, where a loaf of tiger bread cost £6 (!!), and then checked into the grand dame of an Air BnB cottage just outside the town. I really liked the owner, he was cool, calm and reserved, and had a quiet air of fame about him - I had the feeling he was a famous Icelandic rock star in his time, though he seemed to be quite humble and hushed about it. He told me
Sheep on a Gravel Road
Drive from Akureyri to Hólmavík his daughter was actually a famous radio presenter in Iceland, and I was sure her father was famous too. I was initially unable to ask for his surname, it didn't seem quite right when you've just met someone, so I couldn't Google him to start with I'm afraid - I made it my mission at some point to find out his surname, and more about him, before I left. I checked into a wonderful room, with classic furniture, and as mentioned, a French feel, and loved being warm and cosy in there after the long day of driving.
Wow - my first full day in the Westfjords was a wet and wild one, and was also another day of long driving, but it was seriously worth it! The plan was to drive along the winding fjordside road to the Westfjord capital of Ísafjörður and back. The road was dramatic and amazing, first of all heading up and over a highland area for a bit, then up and down four fjord coastlines in total. The town is only 40 miles away from Hólmavík as the crow flies, but turned out to be 140 miles away by road - nearly three
Lonely Icelandic Church
Drive from Akureyri to Hólmavík hours one way. I drove there and back in one day, stopping off at various points of interest, and found it to be a fantastic road trip, added to greatly by the grimness of the weather, and the sheer beauty alongside desolation of the amazing landscape of the Westfjords. The East Fjords of Iceland seemed more developed, with villages and industry, but this place was pure rural beauty and wilderness - it was lovely!
I first stopped off at a seal watching point on the way there, at the head of a peninsula between the Skötufjörður and Hestfjörður fjords, but the rain was too heavy when I got there, so I left hoping that it would be drier upon my return journey. Next up, I stopped at the Arctic Fox Centre, near the village of Súðavík on the Álftafjörður fjord. This was a quaint little museum on the beautiful Arctic Fox, which after watching numerous nature programmes on, I would have loved to have seen. But unfortunately I wasn't able to, as the very wise foxes that live in the centre were of course avoiding the wind and rain in their shed of a den, both on my outward
My Cosy Room
My Hólmavík Accommodation and return journeys, and I couldn't at all blame them considering the nasty weather. I did get to see quite a few stuffed specimens in the small museum though, and learned a lot about their history, nature and habitat. For example, I learned that they aren't always white, and change their fur according to the seasons to blend in with their surroundings - thus in the winter their fur is white to blend in with the snow, but in the warmer Arctic regions their fur turns grey to blend in with the rock. I found this fascinating!
From there, I drove on to my endpoint for the day's journey, the stunningly situated town of Ísafjörður, population 2,736, on a peninsula of flat land jutting right out into the middle of its very own fjord, also called Ísafjörður, or "Ice Fjord". The little town is surrounded on three sides by the fjord, which itself is also surrounded on three sides by high, snow-capped mountains. Needless to say, being right out there in the middle of the fjord, it was particularly wet and windy there, and my hour's walk around the charming town was an epic adventure ending with frozen fingers
Icelandic Country House
My Hólmavík Accommodation in the Westfjords and rosy cheeks - it was wild! There were lots of cute and colourful little Icelandic houses in town, mostly made of corrugated iron, yet still very attractive. Two cruise ships were also docked there, but I didn't see many of its passengers around, and I imagine they were keeping warm and cosy on this day back in their cabins. I spent a happy time in the town's Culture House, which was also a library, a local art exhibition centre, and a museum of old medical artefacts, given that the building was once home to the town's hospital. I spoke with the friendly guy on reception there, and could actually have listened to him all day - he spoke English with the most amazing Icelandic accent in which he pronounced every single syllable and delightfully rolled every "r", and I told him that too - I think he was flattered. I'm not quite sure what he was saying, something about the history of the building, but I just loved listening to him! I also met with a very friendly local artist who had just finished putting up her artwork for display and sale, and was captivated by a particular piece
Arctic Fox Enclosure
Arctic Fox Centre, Westfjords showing the typical Icelandic landscape, with deep blues, greens and greys. I enjoyed my time in Ísafjörður very much.
For the long, winding journey back through the rain, I stopped off again at the Arctic Fox Centre, but as mentioned the cute little guys were still in their den, and although a little disappointing, I still thought good for them - why come out and get cold and wet for a silly little tourist like me! Back at the seal watching point, the rain had cleared, and I did manage to spot a few seals relaxing on the rocks in the very distance - nice! After this, I took some photos at a cute little house called Litlibær, a delightful traditional turf-roofed house that reminded me of every other building I'd seen back on the Faroe Islands. It was originally built in the late 19th century for a farming and fishing family, and was now operating as a cosy cafe. Finally, I stopped at an amazing geothermal pool in the tiny settlement of Reykjanes - this place was amazing! The hotel it was attached to was dark and desolate, and seemed like something straight out of a Soviet Union
health spa - there seemed to be no guests there, making it even more atmospheric in this crazily remote location. The pool was the shape and size of a swimming pool, so really quite big, and was filled with lovely hot water, with amazing views over the ocean at one end. The wind just added to the atmosphere and appreciation of the heated water, although the walk to and from the changing rooms around 20 metres away was icy! After getting all warm and fuzzy in the hot pool, I drove back to my accommodation, and settled in to a wonderful cosy evening. Having already had a very wild and windy day, it was so atmospheric listening to the howling wind outside my windows and watching the grass and trees blowing mightily in it, as I drifted off to sleep.
My second full day in the Westfjords involved quite a bit less driving, but was certainly no less fun. I first drove half-an-hour to some amazing oceanside hot tubs in the tiny village of Drangsnes, just between the main road and the crashing waves. The hot tubs were free, although I did leave a donation, and it was very
Arctic Foxes
Arctic Fox Centre special, with an added bonus of having the whole little place to myself. I could have easily gotten used to these hot tubs and geothermal pools everywhere in Iceland, and I wish we had them back in the UK. I love countries which have spa and sauna cultures, and Iceland is certainly one of them. There was a bit of a walk, around 50 metres this time, from the changing room to the tubs, crossing the main road, so it was a bit awkward to shower and change, but very much worth it. I spent a blissful hour or so lying in hot waters, gazing out above rocks and crashing waves below, and over the sea to the distant horizon beyond - this was probably my favourite spa experience in Iceland.
Again after getting all warm and fuzzy, I drove back to Hólmavík to visit its intriguing Museum of Icelandic Sorcery and Witchcraft. I was at first a little unsure of visiting such a place, I'm not a big fan of the occult or supernatural, but after learning it was a place dedicated more to the ancient culture and beliefs of the Icelanders, before the coming of Christianity, and
Ísafjörður
Westfjords the subsequent clashes between the ancient and the new, often borne out in the struggles between those with power and those without, I was intrigued. I was glad I went in the end. The Museum told the stories mainly of the poor 21 souls who were burned to death, all men except for one lady, after having been accused of sorcery and witchcraft. This was during the 17th century, pretty much at the height of the western world's hysteria with witches. It was a sympathetic museum, and viewed the situation from a distance without judgement. It didn't seem quite like the absolute hysteria of the Salem Witch Trials, which I had learned about in New England earlier in the year, but rather, as mentioned, the transition and clashes between old Viking-based practices and the introduction of Christianity. It was very much a comparison between the rich and wealthy with power, and their abuse and control of the weaker classes, as well as the fear and superstition held towards those who don't quite fit into ordinary society, with trials and punishments often carried out as a result of grudges and fear of what is different. Human nature does not seem to
Ísafjörður
Westfjords change much, and I really felt for some of the men who met with gruesome ends. Some of the convicted had been accused of conjuring spells, such as those used since ancient times to protect their sheep from foxes, whilst others were accused of making a powerful person or one of their relatives sick. The former seems to be simply a continuation of ancient practices used by the poorer classes who simply wanted to be able to survive in such a harsh environment, while the latter seems just completely absurd and utterly unjust, a clear example of scapegoating and abuse of power. The museum was thought-provoking and educational, and again I'm reminded of my belief that whilst times may have become modern, human nature doesn't really change that much, and can always be subject to the desire for control, fear and mass hysteria - the last few years have certainly taught me that.
I then returned to my accommodation for a short rest, before heading to the neighbouring farmstead for an amazing horse-riding experience. Whilst horse-riding is not generally my cup of tea, and does not often feature in my travel adventures, around three people thus far had recommended
Ísafjörður
Westfjords that I did this whilst in Iceland. Seeing as this horse-riding centre was just a stone's throw from my accommodation, I took their advice and arranged an hour's ride with just the horse owner and myself for a fairly decent price I thought, considering it was a private rather than a group tour. The guy was called Victor and was very friendly. He used to be the headmaster of the local school in Hólmavík, so we had an education background in common there which was nice. I mentioned I wasn't very experienced, so he gave me a lovely older gentleman of a horse, while he took the younger, stronger one, which I was glad about. Victor introduced me to my horse called "Dagur", meaning "Day" in Icelandic, due to his very fair hair and mane, and I later learned that it is apparently very important in Iceland to know the name of your horse before you ride it.
The rain had stopped on this day, but the wind continued, so it was rather an exhilarating experience - it was wonderful! Victor thought I might like to go fast and climb a nearby mountain, but I said I was happier
with a gentle pace after the horse started galloping once and I didn't like it too much. I was happy to just take in the surrounding windswept landscape, simply enjoying the experience, which I did very much. We crossed a river, went up and down some really very steep parts, and trotted alongside a beautiful gorge, riding along rocky paths and through heather-filled fields. I was amazed, and quite relieved, at how the horses just didn't fall over with such treacherous walking conditions, though they did slip and slide a bit at times. Victor told me that these are special Icelandic horses, a distinct breed, and they are used to the rough terrain of the country - other horses wouldn't be able to cope with it apparently. It was a wonderful and unique experience, and Dagur was so calm and gentle - I really enjoyed it!
So my time in the amazing Westfjords had come to an end. This felt altogether a very different part of Iceland - it was even more rugged and wild than other parts I'd been to, which were already pretty rugged and wild! There, things just seemed to be even more so, and I
thoroughly enjoyed being there. It was certainly off the tourist radar, which I was glad about. I was also glad to have been able to explore this squid-shaped extension of the amazing island of Iceland, which has always intrigued me whenever I've looked at a map of the country. Thank you Westfjords!
The next day, I was heading southwards toward Reykjavik, but first stopping off for a couple of days on the incredible Snæfellsnes peninsula in a region known as West Iceland. I also found out who my genteel host in the Westfjords actually was while I was leaving the next day, but I will relate this story in my next blog.
So until then, thanks for reading, and all the best for now 😊
Alex
Advertisement
Tot: 0.089s; Tpl: 0.021s; cc: 15; qc: 41; dbt: 0.043s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.3mb
D MJ Binkley
Dave and Merry Jo Binkley
Wet, wild and windy
Iceland offers a great deal of variety of weather on any given day. Sorry you didn't see the Arctic fox but I agree it was a day to hunker down. Sadly, abuse and control of weaker classes happens all mourned the world.... time and time again. We like traveling in off season so we experience the weather the locals are used to. It sounds like 'Sugar served you well. As always, I'm glad you got off the beaten path. Great travels.