26.05.2021
484 km Sölvanes Farm Varmahlíð to Ísafjörður Hostel
Not surprising, I was awake very early … I had a good view of the farm from my room window. Lounging in bed, I fiddled with yesterday’s photos and posted some. That done I packed up and loaded the car. Martha was having breakfast and I got distracted chatting away with her. She was also travelling solo and had booked her tour as soon as the authorities had announced the easing of travel restrictions, same as me. The difference was – since she was not used to driving – living in New York and all – she had shelled out a fortune for a fancy 4WD. She had been to the Westfjords already, so she gave me some great tips what to see there. She was flying home to the States a day before me and wanted to visit the volcano on the same day as I had plan another visit as well. So we swapped mobile numbers and made a plan of meeting up and hike to the fiery monster together in a few days.
By 08:30 – much later than I had planned … – I finally got going. Eydís and Martha yesterday had told me about a hot spring near by … well some 15 km up the road towards the north. If it had not been too late last night and such a long and exciting day, I might have driven there already. But so I had decided to hit the warm water this morning. Of course I had planned a much earlier start … Oh well … Driving out of the farm I turned around for a last look at the widespread pastures and the tiny looking farmhouses in the distance.
Martha had been very enthusiastic about Fosslaug and especially about the drive to it. Eydís had explained the way and for me it was rather straight forward – drive some 15 km up the main road #752, then turn right onto #753, cross the river Húseyjarkvísl and then turn right. There is a gate which you have to open, drive through and close behind you again.
Martha had a great story to tell how she had sat in her car for half an hour in front of that gate and contemplated if she should open it … because in America you get shot if you open a gate and trespass … Not so in Iceland! Here it was normal to have gates so the animals cannot wander off. Therefore I did not hesitate to get out of the car and open the gate to drive through.
Once the gate was properly closed again, I followed the rough dirt track past a tiny airstrip to a small parking lot. There was another gate – this one being labeled “Reykjafoss – Fosslaug”. I grabbed my camera gear and the bag with my bathing stuff and off I was continuing on foot. Through the gate and across a field … a path led maybe a kilometer across a field and I had to open and close 3 more gates before I finally reached Reykjafoss waterfall.
I did not have a waterfall on the radar … I had been focused on finding the hotpot … but I was pleasantly surprised to see this beautiful waterfall here! Reykjafoss waterfall was apparently one of Skagafjörður’s hidden treasures. It was said to be the most beautiful waterfalls in Skagafjörður – located about 7 km from Varmahlíð. The river Svartá plunges here about 20 m in several stages into the depth. Downstream it becomes the Húseyjarkvísl and flows into Héraðsvötn which in turn flows into the fjord Skagafjörður.
Natural hot springs were abundant in Iceland. Often they were found in the middle of nature and without any infrastructure – a small pool fed by a hot spring. One such hot spot was the Fosslaug of Varmahlíð near Reykjafoss waterfall … This hot pot was apparently an insider tip and not that easy to find for sure … I mean … I would never have found it without having had the guys at the farm point it out to me! It was a pleasant surprise. Fosslaug was located in a beautiful setting overlooking the cold river! The pool was built with stones and peat right next to the hot spring feeding it. Since it was almost completely natural, there of course were no showers or changing rooms nearby … and nothing to hide behind either … oh well … no problem … It was still only 09:00 in the morning and I had not encountered anybody else in the vicinity … other than some sheep …
Fosslaug is family owned – on private land. It was expanded in 2011 on there own initiative. It is free to use. Quickly I changed and set up the camera to document my warm morning bath. The water was really hot right next to the hot spring flowing into the pool … you can imagine that this was my favourite spot immediately.
The blazing sunlight had the surroundings gleaming … but the air was still fresh this early in the morning. While I relaxed in the hot water I listened to the rush of the waterfall nearby … What a start of the day!
Too soon it was time to get out of the warmth … after a good 30 min I climbed out of the pool and quickly dried, changed and headed back to the car. A last look over the waterfall canyon, walk through the gates and before I knew it I was back at the car.
Having already started the car, I had the notion to check the map if there was maybe a geocache around here … and what can I say … there was a secret box half way back to Reykjafoss … So … out of the car I was … pen in the jacket pocket … mobile phone in hand … I briskly walked towards the GPS marker … It was about 500 m and hidden just off the path under some rocks … Quickly I found it, signed the logbook and back to the car I was again … I should have checked beforehand … but I had been too focused on the hot bath …
I finally left around 11:00 … very late in the day already … reaching the ringroad I turned west and only a few kilometers on I stopped for another secret box. It was hidden close to the road near a monument to Stephan Stephansson at Vatnsskarð pass near Varmahlið. Stephan G. Stephansson was a Western Icelander, poet and farmer. He was born in Skagafjörður, but immigrated to Wisconsin/USA in 1873 and did not see Iceland again until 1917. Stephan wrote only in Icelandic and had great influence in his home country. His poems were published in a 6 volume book called Andvökur – Wakeful Nights. His letters and essays were published in 4 volumes – and even if nothing of his poetry had survived, those would have been enough to single him out as one of Iceland’s foremost men of letters … Not that I have ever heard of him or read anything, though.
Of course I located the geocache without problems. Eventhough there were other tourists taking a break at the parking lot. But I had practice in being stealthy in plain sight when looking for secret boxes.
Heading along the ringroad now, it tracked west, then northwest through Langidalur – Long Valley – to the service town of Blönduós – a town split in half by the glacial river Blanda for which it was named – on the shores of Húnaflói – Huna Bay, an approx 50 km wide and 100 km long bay between Strandir and Skagaströnd – and from there southwest through windswept landscapes and past fields full of Horses … It was beautiful … there were so many Horses. I did not stop for photos, though. Here on the main road between Akureyri and Reykjavík was much more traffic than I had encountered in the east and north of the country. It was really busy and I had to concentrate. Anyway, we had passed here on our tour in 2019 and frequently stopped to find geocaches along the way.
Blönduós had a cool new church – Blönduóskirkja – consecrated in 1993 and located close to the ringroad. Maggi Jónsson designed it applying ideas of the mountains and the surrounding landscape. The church seats 250 people. I just took a quick photo while flying past it.
I stopped briefly at the turn off for #711 to Hvítserkur – the famous 15 m high basalt stack with the appearance of a dragon who is drinking. We had visited this cool place before and I would not have minded to see it again. And Martha had told me this morning she had spotted an entire colony of Seals there and I was really keen on having a look, too. However, looking at the map and the time, I decided against this detour and instead stayed on the ringroad. When passing the junction for Hvammstangi on Vatnsnes peninsula, situated at the shore of Miðfjörður and home to the Icelandic Seal Center, I quickly discarded a notion going to visit it as well … Hopefully I was going to encounter Seals in the Westfjords …
Another 35 km on, I finally reached the junction for the road to the Westfjords. The ringroad followed the inlet of the small Hrútafjörður – a very narrow but 36 km long fjord to the south of Húnaflói Bay – which marks the divide between northwest Iceland and the west. At Staðarskáli – no more than a road junction with a big gas station – I turned northwest onto #68 towards Ísafjörður … 333 km to go … and it was already 15:30 …
I had reached Vestfjarðaleiðin – pronounced as Vest-fyar-tha-lay-thin – or the Westfjords Way – Iceland’s newest auto route. Until recently, the Westfjords remote location and challenging driving conditions have meant that only 7% of the travelers to Iceland chose to visit there. The arrival of the new, some 950 km long Westfjords Way winding along the edges of this breathtaking peninsula looks to change this by making the region more accessible and easier to navigate.
The at this point asphalted road followed the shore of Hrútafjörður north and already I was greeted by many Sheep on the road. Hrúta is plural possessive of Hrútur which means the male sheep – the fjord was named aptly.
The view over the fjord was beautiful and on the horizon the snowy mountains were sparkling in the sunlight. This new sort-of ring road – comprised of Roads 60 and 61 – diverts from the primary Route 1 and makes the Westfjords accessible for roughly 9 months of the year.
The scenery was beautiful. Many Sheep were around and I passed wide spread farm steads. A colorful dot in the landscape was the picturesque red-roofed Prestbakkakirkja at the tiny settlement of Prestbakki at the shore of Hrútafjörður. At this site a first church had been mentioned already around 1100. The church building, which was a St. Mary’s Church in the previous tradition, stood on the same sacred foundation inside the cemetery until 1874. The last house of worship was a 7-story turf church, built in 1805. When the turf church was taken down in 1874, a wooden church was built, but it was demolished in 1957, when the current concrete church building was completed.
After only a few kilometers the asphalt had an abrupt end and a rough gravel road started … oh oh oh … it was going to take a long time to reach today’s destination if the road was just gravel … Had I made the right decision to visit the Westfjords in the cheapest – and probably oldest – 2WD rental car in Iceland? I was clinging to the steering wheel hoping for better road condition further on …
The Westfjords – in Icelandic Vestfirðir – is actually a large peninsula in northwestern Iceland which lies on the Denmark Strait facing the east coast of Greenland. Geologically, it is the oldest corner of Iceland. It is connected to the rest of Iceland by an only 7-km-wide isthmus between Gilsfjörður and Bitrufjörður and much less travelled than most other corners of the country. As the road – now called Innstrandavegur – reached Bitrufjörður, it circled the only 9 km long and some 4 km wide fjord following the coast. Happy I was that the asphalt started again.
The Westfjords are very mountainous – the coastline is heavily indented by dozens of fjords surrounded by steep hills. These indentations make roads very circuitous and communications by land difficult. In addition many of the roads are closed by ice and snow for several months of the year. The lack of flat lowlands in the area limits the potential for agriculture, which is mostly restricted to low-intensity sheep grazing near the fjords. The region is very sparsely populated – the total population in 2020 was 7115. The district capital and by far the largest settlement is Ísafjörður with a population of approx 4000 where I was headed to today.
The next small fjord was Kollafjörður. This approx 16 km long fjord is said to be really deep, but has large areas of alluvial lands along its shores. Parts of the road were gravel again. Nevertheless I made good time. Still, I send a message to Ísafjörður Hostel where I had booked a room for the next 2 nights. It had been the least expensive and most central option for € 43 per night. I hoped they would not close reception before I eventually arrived.
I wanted to find some more secret boxes along the way as well and had set my eyes on a geocache hidden on the northern shore of this fjord. Reaching the parking coordinates I left the car close to the road near a small church and went for a little hike down to the shoreline.
The weather was brilliant and it was really really warm … 15°C said the display in the car … I was hot … The cache location was not far down to the shore. On the way I found tiny purple flowers which I think were wild Arctic Thyme – Thymus Araecox ssp Arcticus -commonly also knows as Mother of Thyme, but also Creeping Thyme and Wild Thyme. It grows on all gravel/sand soils and in dry heath lands where it forms loose tufts sometimes resembling the moss campion.
The secret box was hidden near 2 basalt stacks right by the coast. Of course, there was a legend behind those pinnacles … Centuries ago the trolls in the Westfjords decided to dig a channel between Kollafjörður and the one west from here on the other side of the Westfjords. They wanted to create a kingdom of trolls in the Westfjords and see to it, that no humans would be able to go and live there. They were digging the whole night but it took them too long and the sun came up and changed them into those majestic rocks – because all Icelandic trolls are night-trolls. They have been standing there ever since. The bigger one is said to be the female troll and the smaller the male.
First I was searching for the box on the wrong level … it could not possibly be hidden by the waterline … why had I climbed down there? The Oystercatchers were screaming at me … I think I might have invaded their breeding territory …
I admired the basalt stacks and could sure imagine them having been trolls … the spot was really beautiful and as I had climbed up the bank again, without much trouble I also found the rather rusty secret box and signed the logbook – another smiley on my geocaching map!
It was a pleasant walk back to the car and from afar I had a look at the small church sitting on the headland close to the trolls. There were no significant settlements visible nearby … maybe farms widespread … but since distance did not matter much in Iceland, I suppose it did not matter how far away people had to travel to attend Sunday church …
Continuing on what was definitely the main road into the Westfjords, traffic was scarce, but still considerable more than I would have expected. The road reached and then skirted Steingrímsfjörður. As the western arm of the Húnaflói, this fjord protruded 28 km into land in a westerly direction. Its name comes from the landmaker Steingrímur Trölli, who settled here.
I stopped near a Sheep farming museum – it was closed, though – and took a short walk to the shore of the fjord. A secret box was hidden in a pituresque driftwood pile. Apparently most of the driftwood in Iceland comes all the way from Siberia and is up to 5 years on its way to Iceland. It used to be really important to the people in this area – all the fence posts around here were made from driftwood. I quickly located the box and signed the logbook.
Just a couple of kilometer further on there was an Earth Cache marker next to the road. Husavikurkleif was a location long known for its plant fossils, which the German Gustav G. Winkler first wrote about in 1863. Whereas scree hid the lowest reaches of Husavikurkleif, there were meters of dark sedimentary layers higher up. They were composed of siltstone and sandstone, with considerable amounts of lignite and were undoubtedly originally formed at the bottom of a lake. The plant remains found here were approx 10 mio years old. I just stopped at the small parking next to the start of a trail and collected details at the information boards. I did not have the time to take a closer look or hike up … Photolog and made up answers it would be!
Continuing I reached the end of route #68 at the junction with Djúpvegur – route #61. Had I turned left towards the southwest, it would have been only 25 km to reach the south coast of Westfjords and Breiðafjörður. Of course, that was not my plan today and I turned north. I bypassed Hólmavík – a small village of 375 souls at the shore of Steingrímsfjörður and the largest settlement in Strandir – the eastern coastal region of the Westfjords. From here as the crow flew my next stop was only 86 km away … but the fjords that lay in my way made the journey by road a much more impressive 225 km … which I still had to cover today …
When reaching the end of Steingrímsfjörður, the road turned west inland and crossed the highland of Steingrímsfjarðarheiði. That name was quite a mouthful – but it could be broken down into manageable chunks – Steingrims comes from Steingrimur, a viking who was said to be buried in the hills overlooking the fjord – fjarðar was a form of the Icelandic word fjörður meaning fjord and heiði was the name for the high ground between valleys, equivalent to the English word heath. So it meant The Heathland of Steingrimur’s Fjord – a pretty typical descriptive name of the kind given to most Iceland places and geographical features … There was much snow up there on the pass, eventhough it only reached a height of 439 m … It was approx 50 km to reach Ísafjarðardjúp and the road was the main connection between the capital Reykjavík and Ísafjörður.
At the highest point in Steingrimsfjarðarheiði was a much photographed – though I did not know it at the time – stone shelter. Shelters of this kind were found throughout Iceland and were – or still are – stocked with food, blankets and fuel. This one was still surrounded by a blanket of snow.
Ísafjarðardjúp is a large fjord – the name translates to Depth of the Fjord of Sea Ice. The north-eastern coast of this fjord was fairly straight with the only inlet being Kaldalón – but the southern coast which I was following, had several fjords extending well into land. The first I reached apparently was called Ísafjörður and it was beautiful – long and narrow, the road hugging the coast.
At the turn-off of the 25 km long F 66 – a 4×4 mountain road running north-south crossing Kollafjarðarheiði and connecting road #61 with #60 on the south coast – I stopped for a geocache. I could not drive this supposedly stunning road with my funny little car, but I could find the secret box hidden here at the northern end of it. The hint was Big Red … first I thought it was by the street sign … but no … a closer look at the GPS marker and the well-trained geocacher eye spotted a big red rock in the pasture … and there it was … a quick find after all!
The road was mostly asphalt now … with short stretches of gravel in between. Once it left the long and narrow Ísafjörður, it was crossing the headland into the next fjord – Mjóifjörður. Vast landscapes opened up – the vistas over the rolling hills, snow capped mountains in the distance and sparkling fjords were magnificent.
Mjóifjörður was crossed by a seemingly new bridge hopping over a couple of small islands and the narrowest part of the mouth of the fjord. The funniest thing there was the sign to warn of ducks crossing the road … I found it absolutely remarkable again that there was a sign to watch out for birds on the roads … ducks in particular …
The problem with driving around Iceland
is that you’re basically confronted by a new soul-enriching, breath-taking,
life-affirming natural sight every five goddamn minutes.
It’s totally exhausting.
Stephen Markley
Following the winding road along the coast of long fjords – the next I passed was Skötufjörður – Icelandic for Fjord of Rays, an almost uninhabited fjord located between Hestfjörður and Mjóifjörður and only 1.5 km wide, but extending up to 18 km into the country – the paved Djúpvegur ran around the fjord for a length of 32 km … There was no village on the fjord banks and only one inhabited farm – Hvítanes. There was not much traffic, but more than I would have expected …
Close to the mouth of the fjord I noticed a funny road sign … could it mean there was a Seal spotting point? I stepped on the breaks and parked the car. It was a pleasant spot to have a quick picnic as well. By now it was 18:30 and I had not eaten all day yet. So I grabbed the supplies and took a short walk along the shore line. And how lucky I was! There were several Seals playing in the water close by!
Iceland is home to numerous Seal colonies were seeing Seals year-round – hauling out for hours a day as a way to regulate their body temperature after hunting in the icy waters of the North Atlantic – is possible. Harbour Seals are the most common and the least wary of visitors, although Grey Seals are not at all uncommon. I could not be sure, but I think those Seals I watched playing in the fjord were Harbour Seals which can be found anywhere in the northern hemisphere.
It is also the most common Seal in Iceland and can be spotted all around the country, but mostly in the West and the Southwest part. The Harbour Seal is dark grey or yellowish on the back with black or luminous dots on the abdomen but the seal is light grey on the sides. However, the color can vary between individuals and seasons. The head is short and rather wide and the neck is short and thick. It has limbs on the side that modified into flippers, but with claws so that the Seal can use them to hold their prey. The eyes are large, but it is often said that the Seal has human eyes and there are many folklores in Iceland about the relations between human and the Seal.
I found a nice spot to have my picnic and one of the Seals was eyeing me curiously while I sat on the stone wall watching it in return. I only took a small sip from my local beer … but it made for a pretty photo with the Seal. Artic Terns were all around everywhere … posing for photos as it seemed … competing with the Seals for the best looking model …
While the sun was still high in the sky, the time ticked away … It ws getting late and I still had a long way to go. The next fjord to pass was Hestfjörður – only 1.5 km wide but extending some 12 km into land with neither villages nor individual farms on its banks. In autumn 1975 the last section of the coastal road at Ísafjarðadjúp was completed and since then Djúpvegur #61 circles the fjord for about 15 km – with the beginning and end barely 1.5 km apart as the crow flies … An 8 km long and up to 2 km wide peninsula separates it to the west from the next fjord – Seyðisfjörður. On this headland rises the 536 m high mountain Hestur – Icelandic for horse – which gave the fjord its name. Iceland’s first shrimp processing factory was built in Hestfjörður in 1927.
The Seyðisfjörður – also a tributary of Ísafjarðardjúp – was about 2 km wide and extended about 7.5 km into land. Before 1975 the Súðvíkurvegur led from Ísafjörður only to Eyri with the church on the west bank of the fjord. The farm is now the last inhabited in the fjord. Eyri, the church and old manor farm was home of Magnús Magnússon (1630–1704) – a sheriff and writer. The neighbouring farm Tröð which was now abandoned, was the birthplace of Magnús Hj. Magnússon (1873–1916) – the poet of Þröm – who was the model for Nobel Prize winning novelist H. Laxness’s Ólafur Ljósvíkingur in Heimsljós.
On the tip of the headland that separated Seyðisfjörður from yet another fjord – Álftafjörður – there was a geocache hidden right at the viewpoint. And the panoramic views over Ísafjarðardjúp were … breathtaking … to say the least!
The secret box was hidden only 20 m away from the viewpoint under a rock … to no surprise … as this seemed to be the prefered hiding place for geocaches in Iceland … under rocks … It was on good condition, though and I pulled out my local beer for another photo opportunity … Damn … I like photos like that!
Circling Álftafjörður the sun started to hide behind the surrounding mountains. A whaling station was built in 1883 at Langeyri on the western shore of this fjord by two Norwegians named Lars Mons and Svend Foyn. It was used until whaling was prohibited in Iceland in 1915. The modern village of Súðavík is in the same area and I passed it soon after. The town was also home to the Arctic Fox Center – a museum and research center devoted to the Arctic fox. Unfortunately it was too late in the day … and I also think to early in the season … it was closed as I passed.
Passing Súðavík I was coming around the headland and reached Skutulsfjörður. There were more and more mountains along the coast now. The scenery was spectacular, even tough I drove in the shade for a long while … the sun had dipped behind the mountains. The fjord is the westernmost fjord in Ísafjarðardjúp. It is about 3 km wide and extends over 7 km into the land that divides into the Engidalur and Tungudalur valleys on Mount Kubbi. The Djúpvegur #61 circled the fjord. Ísafjörður Airport is located on the Skipeyri headland in the southwest of the fjord and is difficult to fly to because of the surrounding mountains.
The town of Ísafjörður was located on the Eyri peninsula and is with a population of approx 2600 people the largest settlement of the Westfjords – It is considered the capital of the region and its centre of trade, commerce, fishing and tourism. I reached the town finally around 19:30. Having booked a room in Ísafjörður Hostel, I however had to go to Hotel Ísafjörður for check-in. I parked the car and should not have worried about check-in … they had a 24-hrs reception. Quickly I had my keys in hand and was told there are enough free parking spaces around the hostel which was located only some 400 m down the road.
I found it easily and while I had been prepared to find a busy hostel … I was surprised … I was the only guest for at least now! Damn, had I known that, I would have booked the much cheaper bed in the 6-bed-dormatory instead … The common rooms and bathrooms were all shared anyway. But never mind. The hostel was spotless clean and my room small, but sufficient. And for the first time I was happy I had brought my sleeping bag! Duvet or blankets were not provided here … but a towel was there …
It was late and I was tired, but still quickly made some noodles for dinner and finished the beer I had opened for the photos before. With a rough idea of what I was going to do tomorrow I went to sleep early. I was beat from the long drive and the stunning impressions along the way.
27.08.2021
201 km from Ísafjörður to the bird cliffs of Látrabjarg
After a good night’s sleep I was up early once more. I still had to sort some photos from yesterday and post them for the family at home. But I had planned on an early start today as well. Since I was staying another night in this hostel, I wanted to explore the Westfjords. I had marked several spots on the map that might be of interest. I was not sure about the road conditions and wanted to check out my options for tomorrow. I planned on going to Snæfellsnes Peninsula and had booked a hostel there for 2 nights. This morning I had a notion that maybe I would not make it there with the distance and the road conditions … So I send them an e-mail asking to cancel my booking … but a few minutes later I had come to terms with it … I could not find another reasonably priced accommodation anywhere … and decided it was not that far and I would just start early and try not to get distracted too much along the way … so I shot them another e-mail to ignore my first e-mail … I would check out the road conditions today and see if I could cut across or needed to return the same way as I came yesterday … that would be the much longer way, but if the roads were better … With the road now being officially called The WestfjordsWay, I was hopefull I would not have to backtrack those 333 km to the ringroad …
By 07:30 I had packed a picnic and the bag with the bathing stuff, thrown all jackets, jumper, hat and gloves in the car and was on the road. First stop was at the gas station right in front of the hostel. It took 35.4 L for 8600 ISK to fill up the car. None of the gas stations were manned, by the way. There were always automatic gas pumps – just put the bank card in and start filling up the car. In the end only the amount pumped is charged – quick and simple.
Leaving the town of Ísafjörður and long stretched Skutulsfjörður behind, I headed south on #60 this morning. The weather was great and the road climbed into the mountains. I passed an area which was obviously a prefered spot for weekend and holiday houses … at least that was what it looked like. Pretty houses were strewn across the hillside.
Soon I reached Vestfjarðagöng – literally translating to Westfjords Tunnel – which is with a length of 9113 m the longest tunnel in Iceland and was opened in 1996. The tunnel avoids the Breiðadalsheiði road pass, whose summit at 610m was formerly the highest pass in regular use in the Westfjords. It had been frequently blocked by snow and prone to avalanches. The tunnel has 3 entrances and the 3 arms meet at a junction inside the tunnel. The 3 arms are known as Breiðadalur – 4150 m long giving access to Flateyri and the south-western part of the Westfjords, then Botnsdalur – 2907 m long and leading in a dead end road to the village of Suðureyri, and finally Tungudalur – 2103 m long and connecting Ísafjörður and the northern part of the Westfjords. Only the Tungudalur arm had 2 lanes throughout. Much of the rest of the tunnel had only one lane with passing places … I was lucky this morning there was no traffic when I passed the tunnel.
On the other side of the tunnel I reached Önundarfjörður – a fjord up to 7 km wide and 20 km long. In 1980 the inner part of the fjord was almost separated by dams and an 80 m long, single-lane bridge. The Vestfjarðavegur #60 runs across it. On the north bank of Önundarfjörður lies the town of Flateyri, which I however bypassed.
The road turned into the mountains now and crossed Gemlufallsheiði – a 283 m high mountain pass. The climate of the Westfjords is tundra – bordering closely on subarctic – meaning the winters are cold and the summers cool. It was cool this morning, but the sun was out and the sky a sparkling blue once more. I could not believe my luck with the weather … it is usually very unpredictable in Iceland. Of course I was prepared for everything! The perks of a rental car … you can throw everything you might need during the day in the car …
Coming over the pass I had a spectacular view of Dýrafjörður – a fjord approx 9 km wide and reaching 32 km inland. Mountains form a sort of a door or entrance into the fjord – wherefrom the fjord may derive its name – from dyr meaning door rather than from dýr meaning animal. Another legend has it that one of the land collectors in this fjord was Dýri von Sunnmæri – after whom the fjord might have been named. The – with a population of some 250 – small settlement of Þingeyri was located on the southern bank of the fjord right opposite from where the road reached the northern bank. Continually inhabited since 1787, Þingeyri is one of the oldest settlements in the Westfjords and the first trading post ever established there. It is believed to derive its name from a medieval assembly – þing – and has ruins of a medieval booth believed to have been used by visitors to the assembly. Thanks to its sheltered location Þingeyri developed into a significant fishing center. I bypassed there as well …
The Vestfjarðavegur #60 used to run around half the eastern part of the fjord. But in 1990, a 120 m long bridge and a dam were completed, which shorten the circumference of the inner fjord considerably. In the end of 2020, a new tunnel – Dýrafjarðargöng – was opened. It connects to Arnarfjörður and replaced the old pass road over Hrafnseyrarheiði which was unpaved and closed most of the year. Work on the tunnel project began in 2017 and it was described as one of the largest single projects of the Icelandic road network. The length of the tunnel through the mountain is approx 5600 m. The new tunnel shortens the distance between Ísafjörður and Reykjavík by another 27 km.
Coming out of the new tunnel I reached the wild Borgarfjordür – a small sort of appendix of the much larger Arnarfjörður. Arnar is the genitive case of Örn, the name of the first settler of the fjord which is 30 km long and 5-10 km wide. It branches into 2 main bays, both containing a few coves. Those are Borgarfjörður to the east and Suðurfirðir to the south. Lowland strips along the bay were very limited – with mountain slopes falling steeply into the sea in most places. According to folklore, the fjord was said to house the most sea monsters of all the fjords of Iceland … and to have many sorcerers …
The road was all gravel now … I clung to the steering wheel, but soon got the hang of driving extended gravel roads. When I was road tripping Namibia in … I think it in 2005 … I had rented the cheapest car available as well … a Toyota Tazz … It had been my first time driving gravel roads and the rental guy had told me to drive in the middle of the road and accelerate to approx 80 km/h and when the bumping stopped and I was sort of flying over the gravel then I should keep the speed. Well, that worked fantastic on the straight and flat gravel roads in Africa … but here it was narrow, winding tracks hugging the steep coastline … I drove carefully … I had to think about Martha telling me the other day in the farm guesthouse that she had been driving this very road. She had been creeping along those roads with 30 km/h even though she had splurged in a fancy 4WD Subaru Forester … Coming from New York and not being used to driving much anyway, she had done well, though. I was not as squeamish and drove a good 60-70 km/h most of the time making good time.
I passed the famous Dynjandi Waterfall – with a total height of 100 m known as the largest waterfall in the Westfjords. I only passed it this morning, but the view was awesome. There were a couple of geocaches hidden there – I decided to stop on the way back for them. The sun was behind the fall in the morning – so the light in the afternoon would be better for photos, anyway.
The road led above the falls and over Dynjandisheiði – a mountain pass were the first-ever-built car-accessible road to Ísafjörður was located … it connected Arnarfjörður with Barðaströnd – an area of historical interest in northwestern Iceland on the coast between Vatnsfjörður and Sigluneshlíðary. This is said to be the place where Flóki Vilgerðarson – the first Norseman to intentionally sail to Iceland – first set up winter camp.
It was built over the pass in 1959 and had a maximum elevation of 500. The pass was flat and snowy compared to the region as a whole. Awesome nature in any case … But apparently the Icelandic Road Administration has plans for a tunnel under Dynjandisheiði that would be 10.8 km in length …
My main objective this morning had been to check out the roads and see how long it would take me across to the southern coast of the Westfjords. And I had made good time. After only 1.5 hrs for roughly 80 km … I reached the turn off of the scenic route to Látrabjarg – the largest seabird cliff in Iceland and one of Europe’s biggest seabird cliffs in general. I had this on my radar, because I wanted to see Puffins – and because it is often called the westernmost point of Europe – if not counting the mid-Atlantic archipelago of Azores. Martha had warned me the other day – she had taken 6 hrs to reach it due to the gravel roads … But I had an early start and it was just after 09:00 this morning … I was going! I turned onto the steep gravel road leading over a still snowy highland and then down to Suðurfjörður part of the large Arnarfjörður following the signs to the largest settlement on the fjord – the small village of Bíldudalur.
The landscape was stunning … it was surely the scenic route I had chosen … but then again … all routes were scenic in Iceland … Here high basalt mountains, steep slopes into the sea and lowlands along the fjord shore were breathtakingly beautiful and the vistas just awesome. I stopped often for photos.
The road was under construction over a very long stretch and I had to pass the heavy machinery. I was driving slower now … I was only slightly worried about my funny little car. Once I had to cross over the gravel bump in the middle of the track and I heard the gravel screech along the chassis of the car … Oh well, hopefully it was OK …
I got treated to some Seal sightings as well when I reached the shore of yet another bay called Reykjarfjörður. A couple of what I think were Harbour Seals were curiously looking at me from the shallows near the shore where they were sort of lounging in the morning sun. Harbour seals – while common all around Iceland – were best spotted in remote areas as they are shy and usually avoid people. At least they do so on land where they are clumsy. In water they are agile and are often more curious than afraid of people. I did not even have to get out of the car to take the photos …. I just stopped by the road side and led down the side window …
Soon after that I passed the only urban area in Arnarfjörður which was Bíldudalur, where some 300 people now live. Bíldudalur had been an old trading place. There were several geocaches located along this stretch of road … that had actually been a reason why I had chosen to come this way … but looking at the time and the road conditions and having Martha’s warning in mind … I decided to bypass all of them and the village as well on the way to Látrabjarg and rather have a look on the way back …
Near Bíldudalur the road turned south west again crossing yet another mountain pass and I reached the shore of yet another fjord. this one was called Tálknafjörður. I was treated to even more magnificent views. I made slow progress as the road was mostly gravel still and I also took too many photos.
Once more the road left the shoreline and crossed the hills of Lambeyrarháls with an estimated terrain elevation of 420 m above sea level. This pass was located between Tálknafjörður and Patreksfjörður. The name of the latter translates to Fjord of St Patrick. It was named after Bishop Patrick of the Hebrides who was the spiritual guide of Örlygur Hrappson, the original settler in the area who came from the Hebrides after Iceland’s conversion to Christianity.
Again I bypassed the largest settlement at the fjord shore. Patreksfjörður actually is the biggest town in the southern part of the Westfjords and had a population of around 660. Early in the 20th century, Patreksfjörður was a pioneering force in Iceland’s fishing industry, initiating trawler fishing. Still today the chief occupation is commercial fishing and fish processing. Around the town the road was asphaled for a while which was a relieve and I could speed up a bit more. There was not much traffic here, but surprisingly enough I met several cars and trucks en route.
Because I am a sucker for special locations … and if there is a geocache located there even better … one of my objectives this morning was the wreck of Garðar BA 64. It was sitting at the shore at the end of Patreksfjörður. Close to its location I left the main road #62 and turned southwest onto #612 called Orlygshafnarvegur. Somebody – not me – had come up with a theory that the more difficult the name of the road in Iceland is to pronounce, the shittier the actual road would be. Orlygshafnarvegur was in line with this theory … it started neatly but got rougher and rougher with each additional kilometre … For a start it was only a couple of kilometer, though, before I reached the ship wreck.
Garðar BA 64 was thought to be the oldest steelship in Iceland, built in Norway as a whaling vessel in the beginning of the 20th century. It was launched in Norway in 1912 – the year Titanic sank in the North Atlantic Ocean – and named Globe IV. Equipped with both sails and a steam engine to use when the weather was still, it was specially reinforced to endure the harsh conditions of the Southern Ocean where it was used to hunt whales. Globe IV was sold to the Faroe Islands in 1936 where it got a brand new name and a somewhat less dignified role in the whale hunting business. At the end of WWII the ship was sold once again – this time to Iceland. Once here it was given an Icelandic name – Siglunes SI 89 – and the old steam workhorse which had powered it all those years was replaced with a Ruston Hornsby diesel engine. In 1963 the ship finally aquired the name it has today – Garðar. It was a good ship and served its many owners well for a long time … but in 1981 Garðar BA 64 was finally deemed unfit for duty … However, instead of sinking it at sea – as was the custom in these days when ships went out of service – it was rammed ashore at Skápadalur valley in Patreksfjörður.
Today Garðar BA 64 patiently awaits its inevitable rusty fate in the sand providing tourists with a spectacular scene and just the perfect photo opportunity. And a geocache was hidden in its rusty hull as well … Luckily the secret box was reachable from the outside and I found it without problems!
Having found that geochache, I took one last photo of the cool ship wreck from the road and then headed down the gravel track that now followed the southern shoreline of Patreksfjörður.
Road #612 – Orlygshafnarvegur – was said to be one of the most interesting roads in the Westfjords. The shoreline was just beautiful. I came around beautiful Örlygshöfn – a wide vista of seashore encompassing a thick finger of yellow sand, which would make the fjord water look tropical blue on sunny days … At the tip of this bay I passed the sort of plane graveyard of Egill Ólafsson’s Hnjótur Museum. It looked closed, though … but apparently takes a fascinating and eclectic look at aspects of life in the southern Westfjords. Right next to the road was the wreckage of a U.S. Navy plane. Maybe this goes some way to being the reason for the airport around here, but then again the Hnjótur Museum is said to be full of strange and unusual items and stories of saving British trawlers in the winter storms.
Funny clouds appeared over Patreksfjörður now. They seemed to roll in from the ocean and hung low over the fjord. The narrow and now rather rough gravel track several times passed through the foggy clouds hugging the shoreline.
I was clinging to the steering wheel again … This road was lacking in asphalt but this minor inconvenience was made up for in character and a few hairy moments … with many potholes, leading across the mountainous area and sometimes even next to the coastal edge simultaneously … the cloudy fog was not helping either … I encountered several cars as well and driving in the dust behind a camper van was not much fun. Nevertheless I reached the pretty little settlement of Breiðavík – a weatherboard church and a clutch of houses located along an enormous stretch of white sand beach. It was beautiful and I could already see the Látrabjarg Cliffs in the distance.
By 11:30 I reached the end of road #612 and with that the in-fact westernmost point of Europe … or at least Iceland. A few cars were parked in the lot next to the non-descript Bjargtangar lighthouse. The weather was brilliant – sparkly blue sky and blazing sun – but the wind was strong and fresh. I put all my layers on, stuffed my wooly hat in my pocket and grabbed all camera gadgets before I started the climb up the slope towards the bird cliffs. I wanted to see Puffins!
A narrow path led up the slope above the cliff. There were fences only along the edge for the first 200 m or so. After that there were just a couple of small warning signs stating to be careful and to preferably lay down to take photos as so not to fall off the cliff … oh well … Látrabjarg was up to 441 m high and 14 km long … I did not walk that far, though …
It was one of the most crowded bird cliffs in the world – in the summertime, Látrabjarg apparently comes alive with approx 1 mio birds. I was a bit early in the season, but still there were thousands of birds around. The first breeding colony I noticed was one of hundreds of Black-Legged Kittiwake – Rissa Tridactyla – often known simply as Kittiwake. The name is derived from its call – a shrill kittee-wa-aaake kitte-wa-aaake. The genus name Rissa is from the Icelandic name Rita for the Black-Legged Kittiwake.
The Black-Legged Kittiwake is a coastal bird of the Arctic to Subarctic regions of the world. It can be found all across the northern coasts of the Atlantic – from Canada to Greenland as well as on the Pacific side from Alaska to the coast of Siberia. Kittiwakes are almost exclusively found at sea with the exception of the breeding period from May to September, when they can be found nesting on sheerest sea cliffs. For the rest of the year, Kittiwake spend most of their time on the wing out of sight from the coast.
Kittiwakes are colonial nesters that form monogamous pairs and exhibit biparental care – meaning that both take part in nest building, incubation and chick rearing. They tend to nest in large numbers on cliffs by the sea side and are very noisy on the breeding ground … Cliff nesting for gulls occurs only in the Rissa species and the Kittiwake is capable of utilizing the sheerest of vertical cliffs … The breeding season begins in mid-June and usually ends in August.
Close to the Kittiwake were large numbers of Brünnich’s Guillemot – Uria Lomvia – a bird named after the Danish zoologist Morten Thrane Brünnich. The genus name is from Ancient Greek ouria, a waterbird mentioned by Athenaeus. The species term lomvia is a Swedish word for an auk or diver. The English guillemot is from French guillemot probably derived from Guillaume for William.
It is a stout, sturdily built auk slightly smaller in size than the common Guillemot and one of the most common seabirds in the northern hemisphere. Nearly half of all of Iceland’s seabird species are known or suspected to be experiencing population declines and scientists fear that the Brünnich’s Guillemot population might disappear completely from the Westfjords within the next 5 years if nothing is done.
Several huge Raven – actually Common Raven – Corvus Corax – were patrolling the cliffs. They are large all-black passerine birds found across the Northern Hemisphere. Common Ravens have coexisted with humans for thousands of years and in some areas have been so numerous that people have regarded them as pests. Part of their success as a species is due to their omnivorous diet – they are extremely versatile and opportunistic in finding sources of nutrition, feeding on carrion, insects, cereal grains, berries, fruit, small animals, nesting birds and food waste. Cliffs full of breeding birds must be heaven for them.
The area above the cliffs where I was walking was littered with discarded shells of birds eggs. The Ravens must have been having a party … I was not sure what kind of eggs that had been … sea bird eggs just look all really similar in colour, I think. Since all the shells were broken, I could not determine the size of the eggs either. But I am pretty sure those were Brünnich’s Guillemot and Kittiwake eggs … It seemed just too early for Puffins … and I had not even spotted one yet …
As I walked up the slope the clouds, that had rolled in from the north earlier, were slowly catching up with me. Still they were far off, though. The views over the cliffs got better and better the higher I walked. It was absolutely stunning.
All the time I was on the lookout for Puffins. Iceland is the Puffin watching capital of the world. We had see quite a few of them on our tour in 2019, but I hoped for an even better sighting here since Látrabjarg was said to be the No. 1 spot for them. With 8 to 10 mio Puffins inhabiting Iceland, the island is home for more than 60% of the world’s entire Atlantic Puffin population. With a large part of this population walking almost hand in wing with humans during the summer season, it is definitely something Icelanders are proud of. And I was really lucky… even though I was a bit early in the season … I spotted the first Puffin just next to the edge of the cliff … really close … and not at all intimidated by my! Awesome!
Carefully I creeped closer … as the signs along the cliff stated – sit or lay down when taking photos near the cliff edge as so not to lose balance and tumble down the cliff – I was on my knees … and that Puffin did not even flinch …
Although Puffins are not the national animal of Iceland, they very well could be. Thanks to their funny appearance, they have been nicknamed Sea Parrots and Clowns of the Sea! The Icelandic nickname of the Puffins is prófastur, though, which means preacher – due to their black and white dress.
The Atlantic Puffin – Fratercula Arctica – also known as the Common Puffin – is the only Puffin native to the Atlantic Ocean. The Tufted Puffin and the Horned Puffin – 2 related species – are found in the northeastern Pacific. On land, it has the typical upright stance of an Auk. At sea, it swims on the surface and feeds mainly on small fish, which it catches by diving under water, using its wings for propulsion.
I kept hiking up the slope and that Puffin sitting on the ledge seemed to keep following my moves … it turned slowly and kept eying me over the grassy edge. The Puffin has a black crown and back, pale grey cheek patches and white underparts. Its broad, boldly marked red and black beak and orange legs contrast with its plumage. It moults while at sea in the winter and some of the bright-coloured facial characteristics are lost, with color returning again during the spring. The external appearance of the adult male and female are identical, though the male is usually slightly larger.
Advice from a Puffin:
Dive into Live
Find warmth among friends
Always bring enough to share
Be adaptable
Stand together
It’s not all black and white
Keep your cool
Your true nature
The clouds were getting closer and closer, but I kept walking towards the blue sky and sunshine. The ocean below was a stunning turquoise colour. The cliffs were busy with sea birds and there was a constant coming and going … or rather flying in and flying off … flying around … I could only imagine how it would be when breeding season was in full swing …
Spending the autumn and winter in the open ocean of the cold northern seas, the Atlantic Puffin returns to coastal areas at the start of the breeding season in late spring. It nests in clifftop colonies, digging a burrow in which a single white egg is laid. The chick mostly feeds on whole fish and grows rapidly. After about 6 weeks, it is fully fledged and makes its way at night to the sea. It swims away from the shore and does not return to land for several years.
Puffins are famous for their colorful bills – but they only sport such vivid oranges and yellows during part of the year. As spring and breeding season starts, the Puffins’ beaks become brightly colored. The larger and more colorful beaks may be a sign of being more experienced and healthy and thus a better mate. But during the winter when puffins have no need to show off, the bills are just faded ghosts of their vibrant summer selves.
Their beaks apparently even glow in the dark! When a UV light is shone on it, the yellow ridges light up in stunning fluorescent colors, discovered ornithologist Jamie Dunning. But he does not know what purpose the fluorescence serves.
Puffin colonies are mostly on islands with no terrestrial predators, but adult birds and newly fledged chicks are at risk of attacks from the air by Gulls and Skuas. Sometimes, a bird such as an Arctic Skua will harass a Puffin arriving with a beakful of fish, causing it to drop its catch. I did not see any of such attacks, though. Mostly the few Puffins that were around today, were carefully watching the surroundings.
When I was not watching the Puffins I was mesmerized by the stunning vistas over the steep cliffs, the azure ocean, the white spume and the foggy clouds getting closer and closer. It was just so beautiful up here.
Thayer’s Gulls – Larus Glaucoides Thayeri – a subspecies of the Iceland Gull, which occurs as a vagrant to Japan and parts of western Europe – was apparently breeding right next to a Puffin’s breeding cave, but was not at all bothered by it. Both the common and species names honor ornithologist John Eliot Thayer. Somewhat intermediate between the American Herring Gull and Iceland Gull in habit and appearance, the adult Thayer’s Gull has a white head and neck with the bill turning yellow with a larger red spot on the lower mandible.
During winter, they are found in small numbers among mixed flocks of large Gulls. In summer, the tundra of high Arctic islands is their prefered habitat. These gulls lay 3 bluish or greenish eggs in nests lined with grass, moss or lichens. Those might have been their egg shells I had found earlier on …
There were plenty Brünnich’s Guillemot – Uria lomvia – commonly known as Thick-Billed Murre – around. Since the extinction of the Great Auk in the mid-19th century, the Murres are the largest living members of the Alcidae – the Auk family. Adult birds are black on the head, neck, back and wings with white underparts. The bill is long and pointed. They have a small rounded black tail and a thick, short bill with white gape stripe. They form vast breeding colonies on narrow ledges and steep cliffs which face the water – Látrabjarg Cliffs were predestined for that. Requiring less than one square foot per individual, a breeding pair will lay a single egg each year. They do not build nests, but lay the egg directly on bare rock. Despite this, they are one of the most abundant marine birds in the Northern Hemisphere.
There were not many people around today … well, there were not many tourists around Iceland at the moment per se … but a couple of Germans … there seemed to be only Germans and Americans travelling Iceland just after the borders had opened … A German couple was heading up the same way as me … I saw them approaching as I sat on the cliff edge watching Puffins. First I did not know they were German … but they looked kind of German … somehow I recognize Germans from afar … then I heard them chatting and was sure … They were obviously looking for Puffins as well. So I waved at them and pointed down the cliff side knowingly. Initially they did not seem to realize what I meant, but when I outed me as being German – Hey, da unten sitzen sie! – they moved closer and got all excited.
For a while we just sat there and took photos while watching a couple of the funny birds busily moving around – in and out of what seemed a breeding cave. It was still the beginning of the breeding season, so there were not many of the Puffins around, but the few we saw were unexpectedly close and incredibly cute.
No wonder Puffin watching has become one of the top favorite summer activities for visitors in Iceland. Their waddling walks make them look a little comical. I could not get enough of watching them.
The cloudy fog was moving is fast now and the wind was getting cold. I looked up the cliff side … it was ascending steeply with no apparent trail visible … I was being drawn back and forth … between keep going up for more Puffins and photos but possibly being engulfed in fog … or heading back down towards the parking lot and finding the geocache that was hidden around there … considering I still had to drive all the way back to Ísafjörður … along gravel roads … I decided to call it … I waved the German couple farewell and hiked back towards the car.
Of course I met all the Puffins again on the way back. Indeed, there were not many, but the few I encountered were very funny and abviously guarding their prefered breeding cave. So stunning photos and breathtaking impressions waited for me all along the cliff … just for that it had been worth coming on this roadtrip today all the way out here to the westernmost point of Europe!
Of course I got constantly distracted by the birds all the time … While the Puffins seemed to be still in the pre-breeding stage building nests, the Brünnich’s Guillemots obviously were done with the courting and already at the family planning stage …
There were really not many tourists around today. Walking back I figured, maybe somebody could take a photo of me taking photos of Puffins on the cliff edge … I mean, where in the European world would it be possible to basicalIy hang over the edge of a very high cliff to take photos of birds … without warning signs or fences … That is only possible in Iceland … I should have thought about a photo of me doing just that while chatting to the German couple … but I did not … I had been too distracted by the Puffins … Now I tried to set up the selftimer, but I had not brought the big tripod … only the little one … yes, I am usually carrying around plenty gadgets … and usually needed exactly the one I had left behind in the car … So … it was a selfie for the Earth Cache that was located here at the cliffs. I supposed I could come up with the required answers by looking at all my photos when I got home …
Luckily, the German couple had also decided to head back and when they closed in on my position, I pointed out yet another Puffin to them. They – contrary to me – had not spotted this one on the way up. So, there was a lot of uuhh and aahhh before I could ask them, to take a photo for me of me and the Puffin. When I finally left them, they thanked me profusely saying they came here to see the Puffins as well, but would never have found any without me pointing out the clowny birds to them! Ahhh, a happy day for all of us!
A last look down the magnificient cliff and I was waving them a final farewell. I headed back towards the parking lot, passing the part of the cliff with the Black-Legged Kittiwake colony. Much was going on there as well. The breeding season usually begins in mid-June and ends in August … it seemed this year they had started early … Building the nest in order to welcome their fragile eggs is a tedious task and requires time and energy. The parents begin with a layer of mud and grass in order to form a platform that will cushion and help to isolate the eggs from the cold ground. A cup is then built around the platform in order to keep the eggs from rolling out of the nest. Finally, the nest is lined with soft and dry material such as moss, grass or seaweed. The nest is solidified by a continuous trampling of the materials by the pair.
Throughout this period, the male will do courtship by feeding the female at their nest site. The reasons for such behavior are not quite understood but many hypothesis have been brought up to explain the phenomenon. Hypothesis such as the nutrition hypothesis and the copulation enhancement hypothesis have shown evidence that this behavior evolved either through natural or sexual selection. In any case … some of the pairs were already very busy … following nature to make offspring …
The cliff was now engulfed in the clouds almost completely. I could not even see the parking lot. A few tourists were coming up the path. None of them made the effort to walk further up the cliff above the clouds … pity for them … I at the other hand left the path and headed across following the GPS marker for the secret box hidden there. Again the listing stated – under rocks … and there were a lot of rocks … but the listing also stated – an easy find … Well … it was not that easy … I had to look under a lot of rocks … but I was determined to find this geocache which might be the westernmost European cache … and eventually I got lucky … there it was!
That achieved it was time to get back on the road and head back to Ísafjörður …
