Westfjords is the very northwestern peninsula of Iceland (the “head” if you imagine the shape of Iceland as a big sheep), and despite its beautiful landscapes remain somewhat out of the regular travel loop.

Toil and Trouble

Iceland was one of the last countries in Europe to be overtaken by christianity, and both before and long after that, belief in a different kind of magic persisted. The museum of witchcraft* in Holmavik exhibits the often grotesque kind of magic practiced here. Contrary to what the name suggests, the magic was mostly reserved for the men.

Animal sacrifices, bloodletting, deskinning and other less wholesome rituals were the focus of the old Icelandic sorcery, and other than the usual uses (obtaining riches, healing, hurting your foes, power and such) many spells seemed to focus on protection from, or enslaving, the local fae folk and creatures of the night.

Passing through yet another quaint little fishing town with a rainbow street leading to the church, we eventually set camp by a guesthouse-in-summer (school for the rest of the year) with its own thermal heated hottub and swimming pool. A few beers and a few laps.

Another scenic drive took us to Iceland’s second city, Akureyri, for some great hot dogs and beer before heading to the campsite just on the cusp of the vast** forest*** Kjarnaskógur.

The old gods, and the new

Goðafoss (Waterfall of the Gods), is where Thorgeir Ljósvetningagoði, the lawspeaker who decided that Christianity should be Iceland’s official religion, destroyed a bunch of statues of the old gods by pushing them over the falls. In doing so, he both gave an even more literal description of the name and showed the usual tolerance and open-mindedness of christian figureheads.

The falls themselves offer a great trek and many photo ops.

The land surrounding lake Mývatn is a smörgåsbord of lava fields, rock labyrinths*^ and geothermal areas.

Dimmuborgir lava fields, responsible for inspiring the name for a certain music orchestra, also holds several caves, cliffs and outcrops and, more importantly, is the home of the twelve Julenisserne (the Yule Lads). Time permitting, one can potentially visit all their homes, but we only had time for the cave wherein Skeiðslickur (Spoonlicker) resides and sit on the nearby stone throne, Hallarflötinn.

This barren, dramatic landscape has served as backdrop for a few film- and tv productions, most famously perhaps the underground pool in which it turned out that Jon Snow at least knows something.

While those particular hot springs were closed for others than the Wildlings, the ones by lake Mývatn wasn’t. Dubbed “The Blue Lagoon of the North”, they were less crowded, cheaper and sulphurier than their southern counterpart.

Hobo Humpback Slobo Babe

The exploration of the north continued. Krafla caldera offers stunning views of the landscape, and in particular its blue and turquoise crater pools. And the volcanic activity creates an even more otherworldly presence at Hverir geothermal area. Sulphuric geysers and fumaroles sprinkle the barren land, along with pools of bubbling mud, making it seem like some planet visited by Spaceman Spiff.

In stark contrast to the barrenness of the geothermal wasteland, the sea is teeming with life, just below the surface. And sometimes, that surface gets broken by a spraying blowhole, a dorsal fin or a tail of a whale.

Husavik was decked out in colours, three different ones for the three main neighbourhoods. The carnival was in town for the end-of-July festivities. But the main activity in this cosy coastal town is whale watching tours on the bay.

The weather was once again with us as we set sail, and before long, thar she blew! A humpback whale surfaced in the distance, causing all of us with big-ass lenses to reach for our cameras. But they was not alone. As we steered further into the bay, more whales turned up, some as close as a couple of metres from the boat. At that point, the camera phone crowd cheered.

The great herders of the sea are truly long distance swimmers, and are one of the most migratory species in the world. A treat they share with the significantly smaller creatures of the air: the Arctic tern basically never sees winter, as it flies halfway arund the world for (northern) winter, and enjoys nice warm summer, swimming in the ocean, fresh fish and hours of daylight all year round.

A lifestyle I can agree with, I thought while enjoying a DIPA, bought straight from the brewery, a stone throw away from the whale watching.

Caroline’s Corner

Waterfall- iceland is so full of pretty, lively waterfalls but our first major waterfall on this trip was the mighty Dynjandi. Wow! Wide, long, impressive and loud followed by lots and lots av smaller waterfalls and by using the word smaller, I do not mean “small”, just not as big as the first one on top. And as Icelanders do, all the parts of this mighty fall has its own special name Bæjarfoss, Hundafoss, Hrisvaðfoss, Strompgljúfrafoss ….. This is the largest waterfall in the Westfjords but not the mightiest in Iceland, far from it, but we will get to that later on in the blogg. But even if there are mightier waterfalls this one is not something the cat dragged home, far from it. It is big, beautiful, somehow delicate in its thundering cascading masses of water. Like lace over the cliffs.

Goðafoss-mighty (yep,yet another mighty one) thundering and full of oumpf and impact. The fall of God or gods. Named so after both the old gods of the north (probably a sacrificial or holy site) but also because one newly christened man threw the statues of the old gods into the falls to disappear and to be forgotten (did not really work….).

Witches, witches; they are everywhere…. And none have striped stockings (a la Roald Dahl).

Even Iceland did not avoid the senseless killing of wise women and unconfortable individuals during the dreaded witch persecution years. But Icelanders did it in their own unique way. Instead of the killing of women, the majority of accused witches in Iceland were men. Out of 22 witches executed by fire in the Vestfjords, 21 were men!

Holmavik has a small (but well worth a visit) museum of witches, witchcraft and the witch trials in the Westfjords and of witchcraft in general. Most of the preserved spells they showcased at the exihition were spells for retrieving or finding items stolen from you. I guess that life in those days were so hard that a theft could be the difference between life or death. Theft was not a thing taken lightly. Theft was as bad as murder.

Akureyri – small but woodsy. The capital of the north is a small but lively town. And surrounded by forests!

Real trees not shrubbery. High growing trees, thick trunks, old trees and lots of them. Apparently, when the vikings arrived to Iceland, most of the land was tree covered. Mostly by tall birch trees. But cutting down trees without replanting them is not the smartest way to keep thy woodlands woody. And after a few hundred years Iceland was no more a woodsy island. Except for Akurery, the foresty city. We took a stroll in this lovely town. Had lunch, checked out the church, looked at the houses and had a hot dog lunch. I should mention the houses again. So colourful, like a bag of skittles, and lots of fancy cut trimming.

And of course, the hot dog tasted yummie.

Speaking of food: Sheep – they are everywhere. In small groups of two, three och fiveish or more they roam free and they go everywhere. Eating, shitting, eating and making more little lambs. And yet they manage to find their way into my lunches . They make a good sausage and an even better soup. Lamb soup a la Iceland is sooooo good.

A good broth, bit of carrot, lots of cale and onion and of course dead sheep…

Amazing country filled with outstanding views and landscapes. Hills, valleys waterfalls, brooks, rivers and so forth. If it is bit ondulating? No, this country’s shape is more like an ecg-curve belonging to a very disturbed but beautiful individual.

The knitting! I so wish i could knit. But when I do try it always end up looking like a cat threw up an atomic bomb insted of a scarf or a sweater, so I remain an avid onlooker instead. And boy do that well.

In every little town, village and isolated house there is handicraft. Knitting, needlework, sculptures,painting, music and making jewlery. Everywhere. And with such a high level of expertice,  I’m in awe.

One Icelander we met explained that the winters are so dark and the weather is so harsh that they mostly stay inside. Creative hobbies is a means to stay active (and not go mad).

Dimmuborgir

Dimmuborgir is where the yule lads live. As opposed to many other European countries, the Icelanders do not have a Santa Claus, Father Christmas or three wise men bringing gifts. Instead they have 12 lads called very funny but apt names. Spoonlicker, Doorslammer and so forth. The names describe what they do. They are the sons if a troll called Grýla. From December 13th to the 24th the Icelanders celebrate Yule. During these twelve days Icelanders recieve gifts and are subjected to small pranks supposedly performed by the yule lads, Grỳla ther troll mother and their cat. Pretty nice setup nowadays but in the olden times the trolls were evil and scary. Grýla went around all year collecting whispers about children who misbehave. Their cat is a scary cat who likes to feast on human flesh, although if you have new clothes for Christmas (or Yule) then the cat won’t eat you. So as is tradition^, for Chrismas you get new clothes.

According the the Smithsonian website the names of the 12 Yule lads and their special brand of mischief are:

• Sheep-Cote Clod: He tries to suckle yews in farmer’s sheep sheds
• Gully Gawk: He steals foam from buckets of cow milk
• Stubby: He’s short and steals food from frying pans
• Spoon Licker: He licks spoons
• Pot Scraper, aka Pot Licker: He steals unwashed pots and licks them clean
• Bowl Licker: He steals bowls of food from under the bed (back in the old days, Icelanders used to sometimes store bowls of food there—convenient for midnight snacking?)
• Door Slammer: He stomps around and slams doors, keeping everyone awake
• Skyr Gobbler: He eats up all the Icelandic yogurt (skyr)
• Sausage Swiper: He loves stolen sausages
• Window Peeper: He likes to creep outside windows and sometimes steal the stuff he sees inside
• Door Sniffer: He has a huge nose and an insatiable appetite for stolen baked goods
• Meat Hook: He snatches up any meat left out, especially smoked lamb
• Candle Beggar: He steals candles, which used to be sought-after items in Iceland

https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smart-news/meet-the-thirteen-yule-lads-icelands-own-mischievous-santa-clauses-180948162/

Amazing craters and volcanos

Iceland is the landscape that keeps on giving. Either you climb down to craters or you hike up on them. And when I say up I mean a steep slope upwards (and then you have to go down), but it is all worth it.

Many years ago, the locals used to go to a grotto to bathe in warm water but after an earthquake some decades ago the water got too hot and it was abandoned. Nowadays it is a more humane temperature but the cave is slightly risky. Stones may fall and the temperature can rise. I guess that is why they chose this grotto to be the place to film the scene where Jon Snow got hos first homerun… Apparently it was completely OK to risk actors and behind the scenes staff to get a good scene for the small screen.

But like Jon Snow I know nothing.

Hopefully the crew got to warm up in the nearby warm springs at Mývatn. Not as fancy as the Blue lagoon but just as nice. A happy bunch of Madventurers soaked, warmed up and enjoyed being clean as well as sampling the lokal spring bar. The Icelanders are a civilised group of people and they serve drinks, soda, beer and more by the large outdoor pool. Very delightful.

Husavik

We happened to arrive in Husavik at the same time the town has its annual townfest. Partying, carnival, and lots of happy people. But it would not be Iceland without a pride parade. So the small town produced an impressive amount of people dressed up in rainbows and different pride colours marching down the main street. Children, adults, teens and dogs…. all supporting the LGBTQ+.

When in Husavik one must do a bit of whale watching. Husavik is situated along a huge fjord where the whales find good food so they are often to be found. So often that small Husavik has a very good and large center for whale studies. We saw a few small boats that are research boats. The scientist goes out to the bay to spot and identify the individual whales. The whales sport different tails, so by the tail pattern one can identify the individual whale. Whales and the arctic tern are the two species which has the longest migration. From the arctic to the antarctic (sort of). One by the sea and one by the air. Both as impressive.

Now, did I see a whale? No, not one but many! We saw many, many whales (don’t ask me what kinds, they were big, dark and had impressive tailfins) and we got really, really close to one big whale breaching the waves just at the front of our boat. The long tele lenses suddenly became obsolete….

And one cannot avoid the puffins . We saw puffins flying and bobbing along on the water. Impressive flying skills from the small fluffy little bird.

When there is a town fête, there is also a lot of partying. And when young people party in Iceland they apperently camp as well. So we ended up at a camp party. Could have been fun if we didn’t have to get up at 5 and if the lads had better singing abilities. At least at 02, 03 and 04. Oh well. We woke ’em up nice and early at 0500, 0600 and at 0700 when the truck got its engineering roaring.

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*) and wizardry, one would be prone to assume

**) by Icelandic standard

***) by Icelandic standard

*^) or possibly maze

^) or an old charter, or something