July 02, 2011

Iceland




I’m visiting Anne and Jim in Reykjavik, a small, but attractive town with many old corrugated metal buildings painted bright colors. They have a nice apartment downtown and close to the water. It never gets dark so one tends to stay up late. One night I walked down to the water and watched the sunset at midnight. It was up again an hour or so later – that I didn’t watch.

The Icelandic language is close to Old Norse, the language of the Vikings that first settled here in 870. I recognize some Danish words, but not enough to understand anything. Since Iceland didn’t become completely independent from Denmark until 1944, many people speak Danish and apparently it’s still taught in schools.

Anne and I just returned to Reykjavik after a ten-day camping trip mostly in the Westfjords (north and west of Reykjavik), actually in the most westerly part of Europe. The mountains were tall and rugged, often with snow, the fjords numerous, and the fishing villages small and sleepy. There is some fishing still, but mostly these small villages live off tourism. On the bright and sunny days the ocean was the turquoise colors of the Caribbean often with long stretches of white, red or black sand; unfortunately the temperatures were not the same. We might have had 2 or 3 days when the temperature reached 60; one day it was in the 30’s. Even the Icelanders say it is one of the coldest summers ever.

There are no trees in Iceland so everywhere there are huge landscapes – one can see forever the green mountain slopes, small houses and churches, waterfalls, and wildflowers, especially purple Alaska Lupine which cover huge areas. Some places the moss is bright green and in others a light grey, and there are grassy clumps that the numerous sheep graze on.

We joined a four-day hiking tour led by a friend of Anne and Jim’s on the Latrabjarg Peninsula where there are steep cliffs with thousands of nesting bird in the southwest of the Westfjords. The guide, Gísli, is from the tiny village of Latravik and knows the area intimately and always had a story to tell. We were 11 hikers, Anne was definitely the youngest and I was the oldest. Each day was different and each day was an adventure. We used our own tents and cooked our own food except for the last night when we were served Arctic char and lamb. Luckily Jim has a really warm sleeping bag and a down jacket that I borrowed. It was very well organized and we hiked only with day packs. The first day was the longest and most challenging, but the warmest with bright sun. Anne did the whole 12-hour hike, but I opted for a boat ride back after ten hours and was able to see dozens of seals swimming back and forth and eyeing us by the beach. They would watch for a long time, but then just like beaver splash down under the water.

The second day we hiked to where we got rides in small rescue boats. Before sailing, we ate huge hard-boiled kittiwake and other bird eggs and thick flat bread with smoked lamb. Then we sailed by the cliffs and in and out of caves and coves and heard story after story of shipwrecks and falls (some fatal) of people gathering eggs from the cliffs. The bird life was amazing. In spite of many layers and rain gear we were wet and freezing after three hours on the small boats. As we sailed to the tiny village of Latravik the waves became huge and we were hanging on tight and laughing a lot. The third day with cold winds, we hiked above the cliffs on spongy moss and sometimes grass. We hiked over small hills, like minuscule moguls and looked down at the nesting birds: razorbills, puffins, guillemots, fulmars, gulls, and kittiwakes on the steep cliffs. The last day we walked around the village and heard tales of the fishermen that used to live there and how they dried the fish, and we tasted fermented shark. On the hiking trip we were given dried fish for energy.

After the tour Anne and I continued exploring with a two-night farm stay, a B & B in the country; a real bed was a luxury. We drove around the often narrow fjords, sometimes on single lane gravel roads. We toured a fish (primarily halibut) processing plant in a small village where Poles, Philipino and Thais live and work. Later we bought bait and went to the lagoon where a family of cod lives and we fed them as they came to the surface with gaping mouths. We visited the largest village in the Westfjords of Isafjordur (population 2000) where we walked around town looking at the old buildings from the turn of the last century – several belonging to Danish merchants.

I have swum in several swimming pools, which are in every town with hot pots (tubs). No chemicals are used, so one must wash thoroughly before entering. The pools are warm because they are heated with geothermal water, and many are outdoors. I also swam in the ocean in Reykjavik where hot water is pumped into the ocean to make it quite swimmable.

The last two days we hiked and camped on the Snaefellnes Peninsula in the Snaefellsjokull National Park where there is a towering glacier, and volcanic rock and lava spurs everywhere. One glorious night we sat outside soaking up the sun and reading until almost ten o’clock. Ancient sagas are an important part of the culture and throughout Iceland one reads and hears about the saga heroes.

1 comment:

Ann Mikkelsen said...

I think that's where Journey to the Center of the Earth began (Jules Verne) Sounds gorgeous.