On the very north west corner of the island of Iceland is the
Peninsular of Westfjorden, a rugged
region where deep, narrow and long fjords reach far into valleys among volcanic
mountains. The ship is headed for Isafjordur (Icefjord), a small town with
about 2,600 inhabitants. About another 1,000 or so Icelanders populate the rest
of the vast peninsular mostly in tiny settlements and remote farms. No one knows,
how many birds and trolls populate the rugged cliffs of the Westfjords.
Despite its small size, the town has an urban feel to it,
partly due to the fact that it has a university, modern facilities and services
and – at the same time – Iceland’s oldest cluster of houses in the district of
Neostikaupstadur, as well as a rich and varied cultural scene.
The Icelandic language can be a bit of a challenge, as the
vocabulary itself is complex, but the alphabet is written differently as well.
Iceland actually has a naming committee, which translates every ‘new’ word being
introduced into the language into an official Icelandic word. For instance an
international word like ‘computer’ would have its own Icelandic Version…but
everyone calls an I-Phone an I-Phone, despite the official version.
Old ‘naming’ convention for people is based on selecting a
first name and combining it with ‘paternity’, not a family name.
A boy called Sigur, for instance, being the son of Johan,
would be called Sigur Johan’s Son (Johansson).
If he had a sister called Gisla, daughter of Johan, she would be called
Gisla Johan’s Daughter (Johansdottir). The father’s first name thus becomes the
‘family name’ for his children. A woman never takes on her husband’s family
name, as her adopted name would signify, that she is her husband’s sister.
Quite simple once one understands the logic, but I wonder how things work out
in a future, where these traditional family structures disappear in many cases.
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| Catch Up - twin sister to MIllennium Dragon |
My heart skipped a few beats just after we docked with a
view of town and boat harbour, when I glimpsed what looked like my old
sailboat: a fire engine red Contessa 32, docked right in town!!! Millennium
Dragon’s twin sister…on the other side of the world!
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| Almost the same.....Catch Up instead of Millennium Dragon |
It takes just about a few minutes to stroll through the
entire ‘downtown’ of Isafjordur. The obligatory visit to the information centre
resulted in participating in another ‘hinterland’ tour with the major
destination being the most spectacular waterfall in Iceland (they all claim to
be the ‘most’ spectacular).
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| Lone Mountain Farm |
One leaves town driving past a massive human made avalanche
wall (avalanches are frequent and potentially totally destructive for all in
their way) and into a five km long tunnel, which eliminated one of the challenging
mountain passes which connect villages in one fjord to the ones in the next.
This tunnel was ‘one-way’ with ‘meeting points’ at short intervals to let
oncoming traffic pass. Some tunnels change direction on the half hour, traffic
moves in one way batches.
To give an example of winter road conditions over the
mountain passes: twenty meter deep snow falls are not uncommon. These totally
blanket the passes, literally making them disappear, and work crews are forced
to dig into the snow more or less at random guesses, in order to find the
winding road underneath the white covering they are supposed ‘to clear’.
Weather is unpredictable, and snow may become impassable in a short time.
Services (hospitals, groceries, fuel, supplies, liquor stores) are only
available in the ‘major’ villages, hence mountain travel is almost unavoidable.
During snow storms, women have given birth in snow cats, which had ‘rescued’
them from ambulances stuck on a pass; the daring take snowmobiles across the
mountains doing what in skiing is called ‘schussing’, meaning Straight Down,
which seems absolutely suicidal to me.
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| Almost at the top of a pass.... |
As we crossed mountain-ranges between several fjords, we had
the pleasure of experiencing dizzying drives along switchbacks along sheer
drops of cliffs – patches of snow still lined the slopes. It is scary in summer
–how much more so would it be in winter with only a few hours of daylight
thrown in. However, more tunnels are planned – which unfortunately would cut
out the most spectacular part of this drive.
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| Sheep grazing near the sea... |
Icelandic sheep present an ever present ‘traffic-hazard’.
Half a million of them roam the open country, from sea weed beds at the shore
to the highest slopes where the last bit of green still invites them to graze.
Truly ‘organic’ lamb chops with a hint of sea-food taste can be found in
Iceland.
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| Sea weed is a delicacy for them |
The sheep wander unpredictably across roads, where they have
the right of way. Anyone hitting a sheep has to report it to the nearest
municipality, which will identify the victim by its ear tag. The driver is
required to compensate the farmer, who owns the sheep.
One of the tourist attractions here is sheep related: people
may participate in the annual fall sheep round up, when entire village
populations (and tourists) herd them together driving them mounted on Icelandic
Horses as if at an Icelandic Rodeo. The huge flocks are sorted out by tag, and
each farmer takes his herd home, where he shears, slaughters and houses them
over winter.
A short stop on the drive across the mountains ridges and
deep fjords allowed us to visit Hrafnseyri on the fjord called Onundarfjordur,
where Jon Sigurosson, Iceland’s National Hero of its independence movement, was
born in 1811. A small museum tells the story of his life and political
significance, and adjoining sod covered houses give a glimpse of daily life
(and a warming hot chocolate) in remote villages. The houses have VERY low
ceilings, to preserve heat, and feel very cozy due to their wooden interiors.
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| Grass covered Roofs on wooden houses |
A short drive along the narrow flat shores of the fjords
brought us to the bottom of Dynjandi waterfall, which indeed is spectacular and
impressive as it descends in roaring fury from the top of a sheer cliff to the
shore of Arnafjordur into the sea. A short steep hiking path led to the highest
natural cliff platform underneath the largest cascade of the falls – 80 meters
high and 60 meters wide. About half a dozen lower falls, each beautiful on its
own, made up the total of the majestic vista.
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| Notethe small 'dots', just below the upper falls....those are people |
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| Each Cascade has a different charachter |
I clambered up….it looked shorter and easier on the local
map, than what it turned out to be in reality. But – the astounding natural
beauty was worth every gasp (and the subsequent aching muscles).
Then I gingerly hiked
down – into the estuary of the falls located at the sea shore. Tern nesting
area, I found out the hard way. I was too busy distracting the screeching and
dive bombing birds with a raised arm and a scarf (I did not relish the idea of
being pecked on the skull by a flock of sharp beaked terns) to take photos.
Instead I beat a quick retreat outside their territory.
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| Remote dock in Pingeyri |
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| Outdoor seating in the one local cafe |
All comes to an end. We retraced our route across the
passes, just making a short stop in Pingeyri, which is home to a fishing
community of 300 people, who now cater to tourists as well. There is a little
café, a handicraft store and a horse rental farm. The café served home baked
blue-berry pie, made from wild Icelandic blueberries, which apparently grow everywhere
(unfortunately Alaska Lupins, planted to re-inforce slopes prone to landslides,
are slowly encroaching on blue berry habitat).
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| Icelandic Sweaters.....200US gets you one... |
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| Local Blueberries in a delicious pie |
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| Café, bistro, bakery and horse rental |
The sun had come out – one could imagine, how delightful
hikes, horse and bike rides, kayak tours etc would be when the weather
co-operates in Iceland.
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| Botanic Garden in Iceland |
The pride of Pingeyri is a little ‘botanical garden’, where
plants which are not ‘supposed’ to grow in these northern latitudes, flourish
quite abundantly. Resourceful gardeners have created a little gem, where even
the Himalayan Blue Poppy (Butchard Garden’s signature flower) blooms. More
practical plants such as potatoes, berries and rhubarb do quite nicely as well.
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| Blue Poppy |
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| A local wild flower example |
The good news is: Iceland is beautiful, diverse, unspoiled,
pristine, where one may explore for weeks without running out of new wonders to
admire.
And that is the bad news: we are only here for a day. My
conviction grows, that I may just have to return here to savour this beautiful
island in a manner it deserves…slowly….
