An Icelandic Adventure Begins: North to the West Fjords


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Europe » Iceland » Northwest » Snæfellsnes
May 13th 2014
Published: June 1st 2014
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Why Iceland?

When Icelandair announced direct flights to Reykjavik last year I had to book. Never one to resist a good deal, I was overjoyed when my Australian friend Josh who I met on the Inca trail and travelled with in Bolivia, BA, and Brazil, who is currently living in Berlin, said he would come meet me. His German friend Simon asked to join, and so a trio was created.

Funny how a date we chose, nine months ago, to fly out would also be the day that Icelandair's pilots would decide to strike. Thankfully my flight wasn't cancelled and instead was just 5 hours late. Add in an eight month old baby in the seat behind me and it was wonderful red eye. I was so out of it when I arrived that I left my backpack with my camera on the minibus from the airport. I was told not to worry as people don't steal things in Iceland. Apparently they don't - and the driver brought my bag to the hostel 15 minutes later. He got a big hug.

It had been four years since I said goodbye to Josh in Brazil four years ago, so I was so excited when the guys finally showed up. We went for dinner at Snaps where I had a delicious intro to Icelandic seafood with a big bowl of bouillabaisse packed with scallops, mussels and fish, We ripped up the street for a magnum ice cream bar at a convenience store before tootling around the sites including the famous Hallgrimskirkja, an immense concrete church, and the the sun-craft sculpture at the waterfront.

Sunday we woke to rain. Cold and rain - my favourite! Took us a few hours to get our rental car from Faircar - a kick-ass Hyundai I10. I don't know how but the three of us somehow fit all our luggage and ourselves and can still drive down the road without bottoming out on speed bumps.

Snaefellsnes Peninsula

We skipped the touristy route, instead heading north of Reykjavik towards the Snaefellsnes Peninsula where we were treated to our first of many waterfalls, moon-mars like landscapes, and 'epic' views. Every three minutes Josh and Simon would say 'whoa, that is an epic view'. The word lost its lustre by day three and told them it was time to start expanding their vocabulary. Our lack of planning resulted in a challenge in finding a room for the night, but we finally found a space at a HI hostel in Grundarfjordur which turned out to be a nice space in random cannery-style building that looked like it was a cannery building from the outside. At $41 per person - accommodation was looking to be a little pricier than we were planning on.

The rain had stopped by Monday and we set off around the peninsula. It felt like every three minutes the landscape changed - I learned early that the best way to describe the geography is random. We stopped to take photos and found a the ground bumpy, covered in moss, and somewhat bouncy when you jumped, whereas a few km back it looked like we were on the moon.

I wanted to stop at the farmstead at Bjarnahofn where there was a shark museum which included a tasting of the Icelandic treat hakarl, or putrid shark meat. When we opened the doors at the farm we were slammed with a very distinct fishy smell. A young man showed us around the museum and explained how his ancestors caught Greenland sharks in the boat on display. Today they pay $200 per shark from commercial fishing boats. The meat is cut up and shoved in a box to rot, or hung up and allowed to dry/rot for weeks to months, depending on the weather. We got a sample of the tasty treat - really I didn't think it was so bad. Apparently the locals eat it an annual festival but enjoy the delicacy with shot of alcohol. Afterwards we got to head up behind the museum for a view of the hanging shark meat on display. I was glad we got the taste-test first. Another treat at the museum was the dead bird I found in the bathroom - apparently the farm cats like to leave gifts for the visitors.

On to the West Fjords

We set off to Stykkisholmur where we caught the 2.5 hour ferry north to the West Fjords. We were told that of the million visitors to Iceland each year, only 1%!v(MISSING)isit the giant lobster claw land mass as most prefer to stay close to the ring road around the main part of the island. Since we were itching to take advantage of the hot pots all over the country - we set up the lovely Bjarmaland Guesthouse in Talknafjordur sot hat we could go to the free cement-lined natural bathing pool a few km out of town. Since there is only 300 people in the town the 10 or so locals in the hot pot obviously knew we were tourists when we showed up - but for some reason no one said anything when I walked in the first door and found a naked Icelandic boy changing. Afterwards, they told me door number two was for women. The water was cracking hot and amazing. We chatted with a young couple, asking them questions, and when a 60+ year old man started busting out some yoga moves, I joined him for a headstand (I am sure much to the amusement of the locals).

We did a day trip south to the Latrabjarb Peninsula to check out the bird cliffs. The view was stunning and while the cliffs extend from 40 - 400 meters above the water, that didn't stop us from creeping near the edge to check out what we had come for - PUFFINS!

They were so tame and we could get a few feet from them to take photos. So cute - I couldn't wait to eat one.

The next day I took control of the little car as we made the slow climb up and over each finger like fjord, through tiny coastal towns that reminded me of photos I have seen of Newfoundland. A guy from the hot pot the night before told us we were pass the ice wall, making the road north passible. I was expecting John Snow from Game of Thrones to greet us at 'the wall'. He wasn't there, and I was not ready to see the massive snow/ice wall along the road. While the boys were eager to get out and take photos, I was freaked that our little car was going to get crushed by falling snow.

Along the way we stumbled upon Dynjandi - a dramatic waterfall we had basically to ourselves. We followed the path up, admiring a number of small chutes before finding our way to the ultimate view.

We stopped in Isafjordur, the area's largest town of 2500, where the boys had burgers at a kiosk voted best in Iceland by national radio polls. I on the other hand ate shrimp salad from the grocery store with gluten free rice crackers in the car. I was beginning to get hangry.

As we headed west we passed a sign for a seal colony. We were fooled by every rock in the water until Josh said "hey what is that?" When I saw a tail flip out of the water I screamed "its a whale!" We jumped out of the and sat watching in the rain for the next 20 minutes, excited when we could see the blow hole and spout of air surface every few minutes. Very cool - and way more exciting than a whale.

Hotel Reykjanes - AKA the Shining Hotel

We were torn between two places and decided on the one that was 8 dollars less per person. Big mistake. We arrived at the Hotel Reykjanes, or what I prefer to call it, Iceland's version of the hotel from the Shining. The place was a series of buildings in need of a paint job - and the yard was littered with trailers, an abandoned tire swing set, and garbage can that was smoking with steam, and topped with a ram's skull. The floor mat you had to step over to get into the lobby was melted and puffing with steam - we were in a serious geothermal area. We paid 46 dollars each and were told to go in the 'kids' building. We had no access to a fridge, the common area was filled with junky furniture and the taps spat out brown water. It looked like a former school or dorm - the place was pretty junky but.... they had a hot pool.

The pool was massive and at times unbearably hot. I tried to tread water but got tired in less than a minute; I figured I was out of shape but I don't think humans were designed to do laps in 43 degree water. As we boiled ourselves we were entertained/educated by another foreigner at the hotel, a guy we met who was part of a group who were studying migratory patterns of a little bird called a knot. We were fascinated by the use of cannons filled with nets to trap the birds - while I wouldn't want to sit out in the rain trapping birds for hours, I would like to see the cannons go off.

That night when we went to bed, I had my own room, and did not lock my door since we had no keys to the random building we were in. At 2:30 am I woke up to someone opening and closing doors, including my own, and then I heard someone come in. I looked up to find a tall blonde man (Hodor for any of you who watch Game of Thrones). He was just standing there looking at me. I jumped out of bed and yelled what? What do you want? His response ' I am just trying to find the end.'

He left, and then two male voices came back. I jumped up - locked the door. Since it was 2:30 it was broad daylight and out the window the tire swing and the steaming ram's head haunted me. I got no sleep for fear Hodor would come back, and in the morning I went to demand my money back but the place was locked up and no one was around. It was like we stayed in ghost hotel with no owner.

Holmavik

The next morning as we drove south we had to head up and over, finding a barren snow and ice wasteland with roads closed and blocked, before heading down to the coast 3 minutes later which was green and free of snow. Random. We stopped in Holmovik so the guys could have coffee and found our way to the museum of witchcraft and sorcery. Instead of paying $12.50 for the museum I indulged in their cafe with a big bowl of mussels steaming in a delicious broth with herbs I saw them grab fresh from the greenhouse. The boys got to enjoy my bread with some extra broth they brought out. With my belly full and after some snuggles from the resident cat that looked like he was from Alice in Wonderland I was happy again.

We said goodbye to the West Fjords and made our way back to the N1 in search of Northern Iceland.


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