Friday, September 30, 2011

Trolls can't keep me from the Westfjords

The Westfjords: the best, and least frequented place in Iceland



Icelandic folklore has it that three relentless trolls nearly succeeded in severing the Westfjords from Iceland by digging away at the narrow strip that connects them. They worked tirelessly – so much so that they failed to notice the sun rising (sounding familiar to Hobbit fans?). They had only managed to create the island of Grímsey before the sun's rays turned them all to stone. Their figures still stand overlooking Grímsey.

The Grímsey Trolls - frozen solid...by the sun (that was for you, Morgan)
 
Less than one person per square kilometer live in the Westfjords, making it one of the least populated areas in the world. There are road signs that seem to indicate towns or cities, however, one finds out soon enough that these are generally signposts for single-family farmsteads. “Towns” you do come across often consist of no more than 30 people, and some of the bigger, a couple hundred. Life is slow, relaxed; landscape: breathtaking.

View from a hike

I'm thankful that the Grimsey trolls were not successful in their attempts to disconnect the Westfjords from Iceland, as they have fast become my favourite place to visit. This could be in part because it's basically the only place I've visited so far, but nevertheless, they are something special. I went for the first time in the first week of September with my roommate Jake, his grandparents, and a tour guide friend of their's, Bragi. We passed through the north of the Westfjords, weaving back and forth between fjord after fjord, since the highway goes along the coast almost the entire way. This makes for beautiful driving, but extremely long, and somewhat aggravating, as you can see around every corner where you will be in about an hour's time, after you've driven in and out of the inlet (aka: fjord). I like to liken it to really severe switchbacks.


Town of Borgarnes - one of the many seemingly unused churches.

On this trip, we ended up in Bolungarvik, one of the furthest west towns in Iceland. On a clear day, you can see Greenland. Here we visited a friend of Jake's grandparents, Inga, who basically she runs the town. When we arrived in Bolungarvik, we didn't know where Inga lived, so we asked a woman on the street if she happened to know who Inga was, and if so, where she lived. The woman replied: “Oh yes, Inga lives in such-and-such a house over there. What time is it? Yes, she should be awake by now.” Hilarious. Not only is the town small enough to know everybody, but they also seem to know each others' schedules.
Dinner of fish balls, potatoes, and skyrtarte in Bolungarvik. From left: Amma, Jake, Afi, Bragi, Inga
 
This last weekend, I had another opportunity to go to the Westfjords, although this was not the original plan. Friday morning I skipped my incredibly important Japanese cinema course to start on a hitchhiking adventure. The plan was to get to the North or South; I decided to leave my fate to the drivers who picked me up. It all started to go awry, however, when my bus driver, who was supposed to drop me off at Mount Esja (a good hike and pickup spot for hitchhikers) forgot to drop me off, so instead took me to the western town of Akranes. He suggested going to the Snæfellsnes peninsula, because “everything that Iceland has to offer can be seen on this peninsula”. Snæfellsnes it was.

Those who have hitchhiked before, please share your feelings on the following: I did not find it easy to stick out my thumb for the first time. To a certain extent, I was nervous as to who may pick me up, but mainly, I was embarrassed to ask for a free ride. I walked for almost an hour along a road before a generous old miner pulled over and asked me if I needed a ride. He drove me maybe just ten miles, but his kindness gave me the confidence to get on with it and stick out my thumb. The first car that saw me pulled over and picked me up: an Icelandic man and his father, on their way up north to take part in horse round-up event. They invited me to go along with them but I already had my heart set on Snæfellsnes peninsula

My hitchhiking buddies, the infamous Icelandic horse.
 
That night I made it to Stykkishólmur, a quaint town on the north coast of the peninsula. You know it's a sleepy town when you arrive at 8pm, and the only thing you can hear is a baby crying on the opposite side of town. There were virtually no lights, nothing was open, and I had to call the hostel to have someone let me in. It was here that I met two Swiss guys, Noah and Stefan, who had spent the last three weeks driving, camping, and hiking around Iceland. They, like me, wanted to take a ferry to the small island of Flatey off the coast of Snæfellsnes, but when I told them it wasn't possible until Sunday, they invited me – in the meantime - to accompany them to the South of the Westfjords and catch the ferry to Flatey from the opposite side. So we did this, but to our great disappointment, found out once we got to the quiet town of Brjanslækur in the Westfjords that ferries do not run from there at this time of year. By this point, I was way too deeply in no-man's-land to leave them and hope to get back to Snæfellsnes, so once again, I found myself in my beloved Westfjords, and heading North again. This time, however, I was coming from the south, rather than the north, allowing me to see different landscapes. 

Noah and Stefan. Breakfast in Ísafjörður.
Ísafjörður
 
We arrived in Ísafjörður that night, and it was the guys' plan to head out in the morning, but as I wasn't ready to jump in the jeep again so soon, I stayed behind and spent the next few days getting better acquainted with my new favourite city. I and hiked and hiked, and almost died doing it. I have never thought so much about my loved ones and the important things in life as I did while overlooking huge precipices, holding on to dear life to crumbling rock faces as the rushing wind threatened to push me over. Despite the terror I often felt, I found myself smiling and laughing to myself at some of the scariest moments.
Waterfalls are a VERY common sight in Iceland
I hiked up this crater overlooking Ísafjörður, then went up to the top. It was very steep and, I'm pretty sure, not meant to be climbed.

Me standing in the crater, overlooking Ísafjörður and the ocean. Because it's autumn now, the colours are vibrant.


Q: What do you do when you're lost in an Icelandic forest? A: Stand up.
This is probably the scariest hike I've ever done.




11 comments:

  1. Isafjordur is so beautiful! I wouldn't mind having one of those houses right on the water, with the river running past it...
    Loved the blog once again! But you better not emphasize the scariness of the hikes or mom is going to start giving you a hard time (rightfully so probably). Anyways, I'm glad you know when it's too dangerous and just time to turn around...
    Iceland is SOOO beautiful! I hope I get there one day!!

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  2. Come visit me!! I'll take you up one of the mountains.

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  3. I think you are lacking in the normal dose of the survival instinct Elise. (Woah, I just had a Freudian slip! I typed in "extinct" instead of "instinct" revealing just how seriously I am fearing for your life). Perhaps you should text me photos of mountains before you attempt to climb them and I'll either approve or veto them. And as for hitchhiking, well, I guess you're in just about the safest place in the world to be doing it!

    - Mindy

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  4. Mindy, not that I doubt it, but you have an exceptionally high opinion of your ability to rightly judge...

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  5. My good judgement has led me to that conclusion.
    - Mindy

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  6. Whoa, Elise, you're becoming hard-core!

    So, when are you going to look for molten lava?

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  7. Hi John, I'll probably discover molten lava as I journey down through Hekla, which allegedly leads to the center of the earth.

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  8. Elise, awesome post! I signed up to get updates so I assumed that you had stopped writing-and I stopped checking(hence my late comment to this post). Haha, I remember a similar feeling when I first hitched...of course that goes away when you realize that people are happy to pick you up. Wow, I also had similar experiences doing climbs on my own. The scary part is that you have to keep going up.... Glad you made it! and now you know that certain types of rock-faces aren't meant to be climbed. The West Fjords rock! Oh, and it sounds like kayaking might be a better option than driving:)

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  9. I love your comments, Morgan! Also, even though you haven't posted in a while, I think you're the most faithful reader :) I thought of you lots while I was hiking, and how much you would love it. I think I will have to insist that everyone visits the Westfjords! haha, yes...kayaking around the Westfjords sounds like a very "Morgan" thing to do.

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  10. Thanks Elise. I doubt it though--I'm just the most responsive. So you would return to Iceland then? It does seem to be worth the trip...

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  11. Definitely coming again, but next time with family ;)

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