Snaefellsnes Peninsula - Winter Wonderland!

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Another day dawns with brilliant sunshine and I begin to doubt the 'take waterproofs and a bikini just in case' advice I'd been given regarding daily clothes preparation. It seems Iceland is ONLY sunny for me. The pick up from my hostel works this time and I'm at the BSI terminal in plenty time. I have a quick sneaky peek of the two tour guides on offer with the two waiting coaches and head for the coach with the white bearded guy who is joking with people as they get on. It turns out his name is Hers-something which happily shortens either to Hussie (he points out this isn't too good if you're from the UK) so the alternative is Hersie. As we set off we find out that Hersie is a BIG talker. Lots of random interesting facts punctuate our journey in an almost constant stream of enthusiasm:

Snae-fells means snow mountains.

The airport was built on a volcano!

Wind turbines were tried in Iceland, but the first ones blew over in the wind!

In Iceland you don't heat water up you have to cool it down!

The tunnel we drive through goes under Hval fjord. It's 6km long, 160m deep and was built in 1998. It cuts down travelling time greatly avoiding a massive detour around the deep cut of water creating a dart inland.

We see sun rays spiking through some clouds and Hersie tells us they are called 'sol stavis' in Icelandic, or 'sun staff'.

The single rocks dotted across the landscape are erratics from the ice age that the glaciers moved, then dropped when they melted.

SAGA: Egill was the ugliest child ever born. When he was three he wanted to go to a party, but his parents wouldn't let him go. He followed the footsteps in the snow and went anyway. When he was 6 he got so angry at a playmate beating him at a game that he killed him! Needless to say he didn't lose many games after this. At 13 he went to Denmark and probably did something equally heinous but that's where I lost track of the story.

'Tungu' means 'tongue' and is used to describe where two rivers meet.

We reach the next fjord crossing, this time by bridge. It's named Borgfjord, or rock fjord. People used to play ice hockey whenever the bay section of the fjord was iced over.

The flat topped 'hills' around here are actually inverted valleys. What the feck is an inverted valley thought lack of geology knowledge Lottie Let Loose? Luckily Hersie was not only a big talker but a mind reader too and therefore goes on to explain that after a volcanic eruption the lava can sometimes flow so that it fills a valley. Over time the surrounding hills erode leaving the flat topped lava rock mountains we are passing today.

We also pass the second largest farming area in Iceland. Crops include barley, potatoes, beans and carrots. Iceland is also self sufficient in dairy products. One dairy oddity that Icelanders love is skyr, a type of yoghurt but made in a similar way to cheese. I'd already tried some and didn't really like it. To me it tasted like slightly gone over solidified milk! There are around 500k sheep in Iceland and these are let loose on the mountains to graze in the summer and brought in again either for slaughter or overwintering indoors. Cattle are also kept indoors during the winter. Only the Icelandic horses are kept outdoors all year long. I keep seeing little groups of them huddled together, munching on split open bales of hay.

SAGA: Talking of hay, we hear another saga from Hersie. This one is about a woman, whose name I don't catch, who was carrying a bundle of hay on a horse with a goat on the other side. She hadn't left enough time to get home so to lighten the load for the horse she dropped the bundle of hay into a pile on the ground and hurried on her way. This turned into a mountain and to this day is called Hay Pile mountain in Icelandic. Similarly she had to drop off the goat and leave it behind. It died and turned into Goat Mountain. She was in such a rush to get back she forgot to take the horse with her after one stop and it too died and became a mountain. Punctuality would have denied us these three mountains - so hooray for being late.

Pa hoy hoy lava is flat expanse of lava rock and ah ah lava is single jagged rocks.

As we drive along we can see beautiful snow covered mountains all around. They are just so pristine and magestic. The snow is being blown down from the mountains across the road making swirling, rippling patterns.

Hersie says that some words sound similar in Icelandic and Scandinavian languages, but the more I hear Icelandic being spoken the more Welsh it sounds to me. Loads of words end in 'll' and are pronounced as in Welsh . I've heard allan, yn ol and iawn and even saw Ystafell on a map. Either way the Icelandic language hasn't changed much, other than dialect changes, since the sagas were written in the 11 and 1200s. It is possible for today's Icelanders to read the language as written in the sagas! In contrast Norwegians have to learn 'old Norwegian' in order to read the written language from the same time. Hersie hands round the long list of Icelandic vowel sounds for us to have a look at. I notice that some are repeated sounds but depicted by a different letter and find out it's because of grammatical necessities. There are also two odd consonants that we don't have, a curly d with a horizontal line through that sounds 'th' as in 'the' and a curly p that sounds 'th' as in 'thing'.

With all this fabulous scenery passing by I wonder who owns it all and if the public are free to walk where they like. Most of the land it seems is owned by farmers and the church, but glaciers and other precious landscape features are owned by the government. Currently the government is undertaking a massive land registration audit to check ownership claims and deeds. There is a 'right to roam' on private land within reason, i.e. no trampling crops. It's also permissible to camp for one night on private land and to eat any wild berries you might find, though presumably you should ask first re the camping if only for politeness' sake.

We reach the mountain range where the Jules Verne novel 'Journey to the Centre of the Earth' was supposedly set. According to the book there is a hole somewhere in the mountains that leads to the volcanic island of Stromboli off southern Italy. If we see it we are to let Hersie know as he'd love to visit Italy on the cheap!

Beach stop - black sand and snow!

We make our first stop at a beach and walk over crisp untouched snow towards the black sand shore where there are dark, volcanic rocks jutting up out of the water creating strange rock pools. It's so odd to see thick snow and ice right up to the shore line. There's even some sheets of ice floating IN the sea! Looking inland the backdrop is a long mountain range covered in snow. It's stunningly beautiful and we have to squint in the glare from the sunshine. The tour group swarm over the shoreline making little impression on this vast wilderness, appearing like tiny flies or dust settling on the rocky outcrops. After enjoying the beach and taking lots of photos we get back on the coach and make our way further along the southern coast of the Snaefellsnes peninsula; on our left the sea and our right a long volcanic mountain range behind which is the massive Snaefellsjokull glacier.

Arnastapi - Stapafell

We are to make another stop at the tiny fishing village of Arnastapi at the foot of the huge cone-shaped mountain Stapafell. I see from my gps that there's a geocache hidden around here somewhere and as we head towards a parking area I spot a massive dry stone wall style structure silhouetted against the rapidly darkening sky. Hersie is keen for us to get down to the cliffs quickly as we are to walk around them and back into the village and with snow starting to fall he doesn't want us to be whited out on the cliff area! So I quickly do my usual brazen cache hunt and find what I'm looking for. It's a green pot hidden in a crevice between a couple of the rocks of the statue and yay there are a couple of travel bugs inside that I keep to take back to the UK. Hopefully this will help them with whatever their goal or mission is. I find out that the statue was built in 1985 by artist Ragnar Kjartansson and is dedicated to Bardur 'the guardian spirit of Snaefellnes' from another SAGA tale. It's huge, towering about 6m high if not more and made from the volcanic rock found everywhere in Iceland. Bardur was the half human, quarter giant, quarter troll who lived at Arnastapi with his wife and daughters. One day his mischievous nephews shoved one of his daughters Helga onto a passing iceburg and she floated off to sea never to be seen again! Bardur was so angry the massive giant took a nephew under each arm and threw one into a ravine and one over the cliff. After this he disappeared into the mountains and has been known as the spirit guardian of the area ever since. It turns out he needn't have worried about his daughter as she washed ashore in Greenland where she found herself a lover, a life and a new family.

I hurry to catch up the rest of the group and find them enjoying the view along the coast line from the top of the cliffs that are covered in sea birds. I zoom my camera in to get a better look and see that they are mostly kittiwakes with a few fulmars too. It's started to snow now and it seems sureal to be watching birds on sea cliffs in the snow! If it wasn't for the volcanic rock and the snow it could be Pembrokeshire or Cornwall, the setting seems so familiar. I feel exhilarated and love picking out a few other birds in amongst the throng of noisy kittiwakes. There's a bunch of cormorants sharing a rock poking out of the choppy sea trying to dry off their wings in that funny way they have that looks like they are airing their smelly armpits. There are even some mallard ducks, some perched low down on the rock face and some in the sea! Weird! I've NEVER seen mallards at sea before. As we walk further around the coastal path along the top of the cliffs, pulling our hats down and tightening our scarves, the snow is still falling, the flakes getting fatter and fluffier. We come to a natural arch in the cliffs with a couple of holes that the sea is crashing through every so often. The cliffs are made of black volcanic rock, some jagged and porous, some in columns and some rounded by the action of the sea. I'm so intent on watching the cliffs, the birds, the sea and the amazing views that I assume the board walk has been de-iced ALL the way along - nope - I skid over on a patch of ice in the corner and crash onto my side with a shriek followed by lots of laughing. It seems to be a common occurrence on this trip for someone to slip over on the ice! I guess it had to be me at least one time!

Snaefellsjokull National Park

We all make it back to the bus in one piece, if somewhat bruised, and carry on a little way further around coast and into the Snaefellsjokull National Park area stopping first at the Visitor Centre. Here I meet Birna Reynisdottir, one of the two members of staff kept on over the winter - she couldn't remember what her winter job title was in English, something like communications or information officer, but in the summer she is a good old-fashioned Ranger! I asked her loads of questions and found out that no-one lives in the national park area, that it is owned and run by the Icelandic Environment Agency funded by the government. She told me that she often feels she is still battling to get conservation ideas across as many Icelanders are really keen on development, especially with the influx of tourists, and they don't see the importance of protecting the wilderness. She said to me 'Isn't it obvious?!' and sighed and smiled. When I asked about the mallards she said they stay all year and nest out at sea all the time here. In summer they also have birds like guillemots, razorbills, oyster catchers and when the Icelander hears the plover they see this as a sign of the start of summer. She said that we may see Gyr falcons further along the coast and if really lucky a white tailed eagle. She was really interested to hear about our National Park system in the UK and was amazed we have people living and working IN the national parks. It's always funny trying to explain that one to people in other countries who are used to national parks being entirely wilderness areas.

Laugarbrekka and the 'far traveller'

We make a little stop at Laugarbrekka at a statue of a woman standing in a boat holding a young child on her shoulder. This is Gudrid Thorbjarnardottir who was born here around 980. She features heavily in two sagas Eirik the Red and the Greenlander saga. Picking out the information from these sagas it is possible to plot a life of travel that was highly unusual, particularly for women at that time. She first went to Greenland from Iceland with her family. During her life time she made as many as eight big sea journeys, married quite a few times and went as far afield as the New World, back to Iceland via Greenland, Finland and Norway and even went on a pilgrimage to Rome. She ended her life in Iceland as a hermit nun. She was viewed as a highly intelligent woman of great character and wisdom. Many Icelanders can trace their ancestry back to her line.

Talking of family lines we are given another break down of how the naming system goes in Iceland - first names are of greater importance and it is viewed as rude not to use the first name in preference to the surname, even in official situations or at formal occasions. Surnames are in two parts, the first being the first name of the father and the second either dottir if you are a girl or son if you are a boy. So Magnusson means 'son of Magnus' - a daughter in the same family would be called Magnusdottir 'daughter of Magnus'.

Djúpalónssandur beach - 'deep pools' and 'test your strength' rocks

We move further along the coastal road and find ourselves almost at the tip at a place called Djupalonssaundur beach or 'deep pools' beach. The sun is out again - snow shower over - and I find there is a geocache stashed behind a rock near some picnic tables at the car park. I hang back taking photos and manage to find the cache without being seen. The walk down to the beach is lined with impressive rocks and gullys and the paths weaves between these. At a couple of points we can see through the rocks to a pools of the 'deep pools' fame. The levels of these deep pools rise and fall with the sea tides and only the top surface is fresh water so you can drink it, but only if you are really careful!

As we approach the beach we see a sign explaining the 'test your strength' job selection process that was used by the Dritvik fishermen in years gone by. Four rocks were used and these got increasingly heavier - 23kg (weakling), 54kg (half carrier), 100kg (half strong) and a mighty 154kg (full strong). The fishermen had to lift the rocks onto a ledge at about hip height. The heavier the rock you could manage the more prestigious job you landed on the fishing boat.

Littered about the beach are rusted metal scars from a British trawler that was wrecked here in 1948, the Epine made in Grimsby. Only 5 of the 19 strong crew were saved despite the efforts of the rescue teams from Arnastapi, Hellnar and Hellissandur. The sea and weather conditions were really bad and it was only when the tide turned that it was possible to shoot a line out to the remaining men still alive on board.

I spot another geocache on my gps and head off along the black sand beach for the 600m walk to what I think will be a box hidden behind one of the rocks near the cliff face. As I approach I realise that something isn't quite right, either the find is actually up on the cliff top above me or something else isn't spot on with this cache, so I hurry back hoping I haven't kept anyone waiting. Fortunately there's still people from my group enjoying the sunshine on the beach so I take it a bit more easily on the walk back up the other gully to the car park. There are icicles clinging to some of the rocks here - it still seems weird to me to have this right next to the sea. It turns out the geocache was a multi cache that needed information to be found at various other points and I hadn't realised this. I hate multi caches at the best of times, so this one was a non-starter for me. Ah well. Can't win them all. And so we carry on around the end of the Snaefellsnes peninsula and along the northern coast.

Stykkisholmur

We have a long drive until our next official stop at Stykkisholmer. I take so many photos as we are driving along. Every turn seems to bring a completely new snowy mountain range bathed in glorious sunshine. We have a brief stop to take a closer look at a huge rock face close to the road that is completely covered with huge icicles. Everything is BIG in Iceland! As we are driving I suddenly spot a bird of prey really near the coach and point it out to Hussie. Oh my god, he shouts, it's a white tailed eagle! Wow what a lucky spot for us. This is a fairly rare bird around here and almost went extinct in Europe all together. We also pass some common eider ducks and Hussie explains that the females shed down when nesting and farmers take part of it for down filled clothing and bedding. Apparently the ducks get used to this theiving and stay on the eggs. In exchange the ducks are safe from predators who are kept away by the scary humans.

Eventually we wind up at the large fishing town of Stykkisholmur. There are loads of trawlers of varying sizes in the harbour area and even some ferries (this is where the ferries to the West Fjords leave from). There is a hill on the other side of the harbour which looks a fab place to get a view of the area from, so we all decide to climb up Helgafell. Local folklaw says that if you walk up the hill without looking back then make three wishes (only benevolant ones!) at the top without telling anyone then they will come true. Sadly I didn't know about this before my climb so didn't get to make any wishes and will never know if it's true or not. It's a pretty easy climb up and we are soon looking over the harbour and surrounding countryside and further beyond towards the massed line of snowy mountains in the distance. It's really cold despite the sunshine and all the double layering of coats, tops, trousers and socks are really needed. The geocache that's hidden at the top of the hill isn't possible as the gps is pointing across an area of really deep snow towards the edge of a drop so I give this one a miss. It proves a good move as even on the proper path there's yet another comedy slap stick moment on the way down as I skid on a bit of trammelled snow and bugger over. Fortunately I land in some soft snow and only my ego is damaged.

Journey back to Reykjavik

Having enjoyed a wonderfully sunny day, with just a little snow flurry on our cliff side walk, we are fully expecting to be back in Reykjavik in about an hour and a half. Silly us. This is Iceland where the weather changes at the drop of a hat. Suddenly from bowling along as normal we find the wind has picked up and is gusting really strongly across the road bringing powdery snow off the mountains that we are driving alongside. The blown snow makes the road seem covered in steam making beautiful swirly patterns. The driver has to slow to a dawdle to stop the coach from being blown over or into oncoming cars. Every time we do meet a car coming towards us we have to slow to a snail's pace. In the distance are still blue skies and fluffy clouds but here it's snow all around. We eventually limp back to Reykjavik after a long, slow and tiring journey in the wind blown snow. Drop offs to the hotels take quite a while with such a full coach and as usual my hostel is one of the last in the drop off list, but eventually I make it back and get settled into my new room (I had to change as there was one night with no availability for the female only dorm when I switched hostels just before coming to Iceland).

What a cracking good tour of the Snaefellnes peninsula and thanks to Hussie for being such an informative and friendly guide. Luckily I have nothing particular planned for the next day so can have a much needed lie in. Goodnight Iceland, 'takk fer the koffee, see yer tumorrra' - Bill Bailey thing for those in the know 😉

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