Íslandsferð (A Trip To Iceland) Part 1

In July 2005 I was invited by my friend Þórunn to attend an "ættarmót", which is a kind of extended family reunion, in the northern town of Siglufjörður with her, her father Guðjón, and her mother Emmy. I also took the opportunity while up there to do some sightseeing across the northern part of the country. All pictures by me unless otherwise noted. Thumbnails with white borders around them are links to pages with multiple pictures.

PART ONE: REYKJAVÍK - SIGLUFJÖRÐUR
New friends, old places -- old friends, new places

Sunday, 17 July

Relaxing in an Íslandsbanki complex in Siglufjörður. Emmy works in one of the bank's branches in Reykjavík so they were able to arrange this place for us to stay while we're here. I don't really understand why a bank would have an apartment complex above it, but here it is nonetheless. I haven't seen anyone else here. Perhaps we're the only ones here? I don't know. We're on the very top floor so we have a really nice view of the town. The apartment is typical Icelandic/Scandinavian style: clean, comfortable, bright. There is even a billiard room just across the hall with a bunch of luxurious lounge chairs and sofas. Nice place.

Anyway, I arrived in Iceland 3 days ago, on Thursday morning. The original plan was just to hook up with Þórunn right away, but she had since made plans to visit her friend in the US for 3 weeks and would not be returning until Friday. Fortunately, through another friend, Siggi, who is currently living in the Netherlands, I was able to stay with his friend Páll for the day-and-a-half until Þórunn returned. He picked me up at the airport and we went back to his place, a really nice apartment right downtown. We hung out for a bit and had some coffee on his deck before he had to go to work. We had some interesting conversations about Icelandic history and society and about the US presence/influence here. I was surprised to hear him say that Iceland has more ties with the US than with Europe. He soon went to work and I set about walking around the city.

The weather was nice when I arrived and it just kept getting better and better as the day went on. I walked down along the sea, strolled around the famous Tjörn, and all around downtown. Everything was so familiar. It was like I was just there a week before rather than almost a year. I grabbed a sandwich at Nonnabiti and sat down to eat at Austurvöllur. By this time the weather was so nice it was almost surreal. Everyone was out walking around, children were playing on the grass, Café Paris was bursting with people. Sitting there, relaxing, smoking a cigar, I was positively overwhelmed with a feeling that I belonged here. I can't explain or describe the connection I feel to this country, how much I love it. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense I guess, but I felt it as soon as I got here back in 2001. I felt that indescribable "specialness" that I've never felt anywhere else. I kinda assumed it would wear off eventually, and maybe it will, but each time I come here I love it more and more. It was hard to leave that spot. I wanted that cigar to last forever.

I eventually got up and walked around some more. I started to get tired. Really tired. I must've walked around for a good 5 hours all said and done. The jet lag, combined with not getting any sleep on the overnight flight, combined with lack of sleep on the days leading up to my departure (saw the Backyard Babies on Monday night...fuck yeah!), combined with some serious direct sunlight, started to really make itself felt on me. I was actually starting to feel slightly delirious. My body was screaming at me to return to Páll's for a much-needed nap, but I had to get some film developed to test my camera. The last couple rolls I took came out really bad and I needed to make sure something wasn't wrong with it. So I just took a bunch of pictures while I was walking around and brought it to a shop for one-hour developing. I was shocked and appalled to see just how poor the dollar was faring here. It would cost me $30 to develop the 18 pictures I had taken. Unfuckingbelievable! I checked my math like 3 times but it kept coming out the same. I bit the bullet and scolded myself for not taking care of this back home. Actually, I did try to. I thought I was using the perfect opportunity, taking a bunch of pictures of the Backyard Babies and my dog Charlie, but when I went to pop out what I expected to be a roll full of dynamite pictures, I found the chamber empty. Like a fucking moron I had been snapping away with no film in the camera. That little episode of idiocy ended up costing me a good $25, not to mention probably some great pics. Ah well. While waiting for the pictures to be developed, I grabbed a beer and went up to Arnarhóll and watched the city flow below. It was hard to keep my eyes open. They actually hurt and it was hard to focus. Still, it was very pleasant given the view and the nice breeze. The hour finally passed and, thank god, the pictures were OK, even if my wallet wasn't.

SOME OF THE PICTURES I TOOK WALKING AROUND THE CITY
Here we have a cruise boat looking particularly gorgeous in the harbour	The Sólfar statue, with same cruise ship in the background	This "Partnership" sculpture honors the relationship between Iceland the U.S. An identical sculpture stands at the other end of the Gulf Stream in south Florida.
The lovely Tjörn with Ráðhús (City Hall) in the background	The striking crimson post office building, which Þórunn tells me is actually largely occupied by the city's youth culture committee. Go figure.	An idyllic moment in Austurvöllur

I went immediately back to Páll's and tried to get some rest. Luckily I was able to and by the time he got home from work I was relatively refreshed. By that time, his girlfriend, Hildur, was home as well, and the 3 of us went for some coffee and beer at a really cool bar called Dillon. At first we sat out back in the outdoor garden area, but it soon got uncomfortably cool and windy so we went inside. The place had a cool atmosphere and played great music. Friends of Páll and Hildur came and went.

We eventually decided to go out to eat and ended up at a vegetarian restaurant called Á Næstu Grösum. Over dinner the conversation turned to Mínus, the band we played with the first time we came here. Páll said they got a contract with some British label and were sent a bunch of money to record a new album. Well, apparently they blew the money and never recorded the album. With mock shame I said, "That's too bad. They could've been the next Sigur Rós... Or maybe even the next Björk!" Everyone got kinda quiet and sorta half-laughed. I didn't think anything of it. After we finished our food and left they turned to me and asked, "Don't you know who you were sitting next to? That was Björk right to your left!" "No way," I said, "You're fucking putting me on." I didn't believe them at first, but they insisted it was true. I had absolutely no idea. I was aware of the woman sitting at the next table. I noticed she had her baby lying down on 2 chairs put together and I saw her holding and feeding the child, but I never looked at the woman. It's a very small restaurant. She was sitting so close to me that if I stretched out my arm I would've hit her. Therefore I knew she must've heard my comment. I felt like a boob for being so oblivious, but I'm just glad I didn't happen to say that her music is one of the very few things from Iceland that I don't like, which is true. That would have been seriously embarassing!! Trying to imagine what the odds are that something like this could unfold boggles my mind. I know for a fact, though, that they weren't putting me on, because from there we went right across the street to a bar called 22 and we could see her emerge from the restaurant about 15-20 minutes later. Unbelievable.

We hung out and drank there for quite a while with Eva, a friend of Hildur's. As midnight approached (still light out!) we went to find another watering hole. It was in one of these that we saw, speak of the devil, Krummi from Mínus. I didn't recognize him until they pointed him out to me. He had cut his hair short and dyed it black. It was really nice to see him and have a quick chat. We tried to find another place but by this time everywhere seemed full and Páll had to work the following day, so we bid farewell to Eva and returned to their apartment. I set my watch alarm for 7am. I wanted to get up early to shower, write, maybe walk around the city some more, but I never even heard the damn thing. I ended up sleeping until 1pm! Það var leiðinlegt, but I guess I really needed the rest.

Þórunn's flight was to get in at 2pm so I didn't end up having time to do anything aside from bathing. Páll's father was nice enough to give me a ride to Þórunn's parents' apartment. I said goodbye to my new friend Páll and hello to my old friend Þórunn and her kind folks. It was really great to see them again. As usual they gave me a bunch of food: fish with potatoes, coffee, berries with cream. Wonderful! Þórunn, literally just off the plane from the US, told me about the fun times she had in SF, LA, LV, etc. I told her she wasn't as tanned as I expected she'd be after 3 weeks basking in the California sun. After taking some time to load the cars and get things in order at their place we hit the ring road north out of the city.

Saying goodbye to Hildur as she goes off for a swim

The view from Páll's balcony

My gracious host, Páll

On the first stretch on the ring road, not far from Reykjavík

Route 1, known as "the ring road", is the main highway that encircles the entire island. The first notable thing was Hvalfjarðargöng, the tunnel that goes under Hvalfjörður. I had heard this described as a claustrophobic's nightmare; a dark, narrow, long descent under the fjord, like going into a mineshaft. It wasn't as sinister as I expected. In fact, I didn't find it unpleasant at all. Still, I can see how someone with anxiety about such things could find it disturbing. After a quick pitstop in Borgarnes it was off to Norðurland. The ride up the western portion of the ring road was pretty nice. Not the most spectacular of Icelandic landscapes, but definitely more than it's fair share of beautiful sights. As we neared Hrútafjörður in the north we began to encounter these bizarre cloud formations settling near or on the ground. At first they were intermittent and very localized, sometimes being a thin, long band stretching across our path, almost as if a jet plane had flown by only 5 feet off the ground. I've never seen anything like it. It was around here that the ring road starts to gradually work it's way east. Luckily these cloud/fog formations broke occasionally to allow views of some really beautiful scenery around Vatnsdalur. After Blönduós the fog became more of the rule rather than the exception. By the time we stopped for a bite to eat in Varmahlíð you couldn't really see anything. The fog made it dark like late twilight and it was very much cool. The moisture gave the air a "sharpness" and the overall atmosphere was strangely foreboding. It was nice to stop, though, as we had been driving straight for a good 4 hours. We had pylsur (delicious Icelandic hot dogs) and Coke. They were great, as usual, with all the scrumptious sauces and toppings they use here.

The entrance to Hvalfjarðargöng	I grab an ice cream at the pit stop in Borgarnes	Between Borgarnes and Brú
The bizarre "cloud strip"	Breathtaking beauty around Vatnsdalur/Þingeyrar	Pit stop in Varmahlíð. Emmy on the left, Þórunn on the right.

After Varmahlíð we left the ring road to take route 76 which runs north along the eastern coast of Skagafjörður, ending at our destination, Siglufjörður. It was very disappointing that we had no visibility during this leg of the trip as Þórunn kept telling me how spectacular the scenery was there. Ah well, you can't win 'em all. Right before you reach Siglufjörður there is a short tunnel that cuts throught the headland mountain called Strákagöng. This tunnel is fucking awesome. It's like a long cave with rough-hewn walls and dim, eerie lighting. It's only one lane wide. There are 3 or 4 little areas along it's length to pull off to the side. If another car comes along, the one closest to the nearest pull-off has to back up. As you emerge from the tunnel, you are immediately hit with a majestic view of the fjord, assuming you're not enveloped in a pea-soup-thick fog, that is. That night I saw nothing but perfect grey. About 5 minutes later we were in Siglufjörður. We drove to the guesthouse where Guðjón's brother Jón was staying and got the key to our apartment, then took a quick trip out to the spot where the ættarmót was to take place: a small, little spot just outside the town nestled in the fjord's valley called Hóll. There were many people already assembled there with a bunch of tents set up and a fire going near the middle of them. This place was really some kind of sport center. There's a big football (soccer) field with a few quaint rows of chairs cut into steps in the hillside, a very unlikely golf course, and a ski course complete with lift. They said hello to a bunch of people before going back to the apartment. I don't remember what time we got in and went to sleep. Perhaps around 2-2:30am.

The next morning the weather had cleared a bit, thank god, and we went to visit Engidalur, about 10 minutes outside the town on the other side of Strákagöng. This was the site of an avalanche that killed many of their relatives back in 1919. You can even see parts of the foundation of the house, now all overgrown with grass and moss. We then went back through the tunnel and I got the view that I missed out on the night before. Need I say it? Breathtaking.

Strákagöng from the eastern side	Exiting Strákagöng	Some views on the western flank on the way to Engidalur	The memorial stones at Engidalur
A view 180° from the stones in the direction the avalanche came from. As was often the case, a 50° angle lens was very frustrating here.	On the drive back towards the tunnel, the fog/clouds/ whatever-they-are give a disheartening glimpse of what's soon to engulf us in the coming days	The western entrance to Strákagöng	The view of the fjord not long after exiting the tunnel

We went back and drove around the town, visited some shops, bumping into people all over the place, who were just arriving or whatnot. You got the feeling that this family was "descending" on the town. At some point we went back to Hóll and I was able to walk around a bit and really take things in. It was overwhelming, this place. Surreal. Words simply can't describe the majesty of the surroundings. At a certain time, a bunch of us went to the museum in town, Síldarminjasafnið (The Herring Era Museum). In days gone by, when conditions were right, Siglufjörður was a huge fishing town, once known as "the herring captial of the world". However, conditions changed, the fish moved to other waters, and now the town is a mere shadow of it's former self. The museum, though, is amazing. It consists of 3 separate buildings. The first is basically a preserved living quarters for the workers with one level made into displays, but the rest left in authentic condition with tons of old personal effects and whatnot. This building has a workers station out front and I was shocked when a bunch of people came out and re-enacted cutting and salting real fish and packing them in barrells. Apparently there was a lot of humor involved as the "workers" would often shout things and everyone would laugh. After about 20 minutes of this "working" a guy came out with an accordian and they all sang a bunch of songs. Then they danced. They tried to drag in people from the crowd. A few went along, but most, like myself, shrank away. The children were very much into it. The next building was all about the processing of fish into meal and oil. It was filled with tons and tons of old, gigantic machinery. The last building housed about 7 or 8 actual ships of various sizes which you could walk onto and explore. The whole thing was really amazing and actually too much to take in all at once. Apparently, this museum, which is utterly unimpressive from the outside, was recognized as like one of the top 5 museums in all of Europe, and I can see why.

Entering the town of Siglufjörður	We drive to the shoreline and climb upon a long line of rocks along the shore to get a better view	A view of the western flank of the fjord	Some sights from the town center
Hóll and surroundings	Síldarminjasafnið (The Herring Era Museum)	The old cemetary behind the church	Some views from our apartment window

Back in Hóll things were getting underway. The band and MC were in full swing. We sat down and they got ready to serve the food. What started out as a relatively nice day was steadily turning sour. By the time we got our food there was a very light, steady rain (for the most part the only type of rain they get here). It wasn't too bad, just a tad disappointing. The food was good (of course): lamb with gravy, potato salad, and cole slaw. We had a bottle of red wine and plenty of beer. The night went on. More alcohol was consumed. People danced and sang. I wandered off and had a cigar. Some of the kids were playing in the football field. Unfortunately, the hillside was rather wet so I didn't walk around it too much. I went back to the group. More alcohol, singing, dancing and carrying on. I got quite nicely drunk myself. After a few failed attempts, Emmy finally managed to drag me up for a dance. We all drank and talked and smoked and had a good time until I don't know what time. Someone drove us back here and we crashed. I slept like a stone.

I expected to have a killer hangover this morning, but I had absolutely none. Amazing. Guðjón woke us up at noon and we went back to Hóll for coffee and a dizzying array of pastries and cakes and finger foods. Everyone was there for one last gathering. After a lot of socializing, food, and lingering goodbyes, slowly the place emptied. People went home. Many people had come from Denmark so they had a long trip back. Most were from Reykjavík, though. I was the only American.

We came back here and hung out for a little while. We walked right around the block to this place called Kaffi Torg for some take-out. I got this strange but delicious sandwich made of egg, ham, bacon, cheese, mushroom, lettuce, and like one or two different kinds of sauce. Sounds like a weird breakfast sandwich, I know, but it wasn't at all. Man, these people know how to make good food! After that we drove all around the town again, them commenting on how things have changed. We ended up at Guðjón's friend's house. Gorgeous place with an amazing view of the city. After that we went to a sjoppa for some ice cream and back here.

Unfortunately, the weather today is worse than yesterday. Cold, windy, drizzly, and utterly overcast (here they call it alskýjað). Pretty fucking miserable. I pray it's not like this much more, although I'm fully aware that that is very much a possibility. Við skulum sjá (we shall see).