Iceland - Part IV of IV - The Grand Finale!

"I used the wind and rain as my rating system; you must look past all that."

- Sensei Vitali, on day 7 of no sun, high winds, and continuous spitting precipitation. We had learned to thrive in the darkness.

Here exists Part IV of IV. The end of an era, a chapter of our lives seared into the flesh of memory. A chapter that felt like it would never end.

I plan on writing one or two more posts after this to finish out our story. One, about the journey home (and one final stop at a National Park), and one, a retrospective.

- - -

We found ourselves heading towards the Westfjords, a lesser touristed landmass in the northwest of Iceland; sparsely populated, volcanically quiet, and geologically, the oldest part of the island. I had heard they were beautiful, but what we experienced blew us away. Sometimes literally! This area has become one of my favorite places on the trip.

We had a four hour drive ahead of us from our guesthouse outside of Sauðárkrókur to Drangsnes, our stop for the night, driving along the northwest coast of Iceland, tracing the roads along the edges of the fjords.

It was spectacular scenery for the long drive, and we soaked in the views, eager to etch the scenes into permanent memory.

As the past three weeks had passed we had gradually seen less and less of the sun, and more of inclement weather. Today, the sky was overcast, dim, and misting. Even though conditions would be absolutely dismal anywhere else, we came to appreciate the mournful atmosphere and the hidden beauty of the landscapes that the rain revealed. I would do almost anything to be back in Iceland, re-living the few final days of our journey, even in terrible weather.

Even so, we could see how the winters could be unbearable, especially around the solstice, when daylight marches towards its few hour minimum, here, so close in latitude to eternal night.

We passed churches, sheep, mountains, and the sea. The mountains were long, smooth forms dipping in and out of the ocean -- they reminded me of breaching whales -- almost perfectly weathered remnants of past volcanic eruptions. It was similar to the Faroes, but also entirely different.

As we made our way deeper into the Westfjords we began noticing piles of driftwood along the shores -- apparently if one needs lumber, a trip to the beach can provide everything one needs! As it has for a thousand years.

Towards the end of the day we made it to our guesthouse, a group of small buildings perched directly across the road from the sea, and at the back, shared budget accommodations for us backpackers: four rooms, two restrooms, and a living area and kitchen to share. It was warm, dry, and perfectly cozy.

Someone showed up later in the evening but the whole afternoon we had the place to ourselves.

In the morning we packed up and headed to Galdrasafnið, the Museum of Icelandic Sorcery and Witchcraft.

We had our first seal sighting! They were laying on rocks, their bodies curved up into arcs. I'm guessing that's because the air was warmer than the water, so they were doing that to warm up. We also passed a few whales in the fjords -- only able to spot them by the water spurting from their blowholes.

We found the museum, a nondescript black painted building by the water in town. The museum came with a handy english translation book which introduced us to the history of witchcraft on the island.

Witchcraft began to be prosecuted here in the 1500s, conducted by Danish authorities in areas of weak Christian influence as a way to increase religious conformity.

The map below shows all of the areas where trials and burnings had taken place. There was quite a bit of activity in the Westfjords. The other photos are representations of other folk witchcraft accoutrements -- some of them were very weird.

Also in the museum was a stone used for ritual sacrifice!

AND

The only known pair of necropants in the entire world. I had heard of these pants before but to see them in real life...

Necropants are pants made from the skin of a willing human participant -- who must give the wearer permission to skin his legs after his death. The skin cannot be torn, and once donned by the wearer, the wearer cannot remove them until he finds the next wearer. Why would you want to wear these pants you say?

Well -- before you put them on, you place a coin in the scrotum. From then on, a coin will always be available for the taking from said place. Unlimited wealth!

On the way out (which went through a small restaurant that smelled amazing), we read a letter that was framed near the entrance of the museum -- noting that this person had bought a bracelet from the museum and ever since then has had a string of terrible luck. So she sent it back!

After we visited the museum, we noticed that in the boxes of pressed fruit we were buying, each package came with one of 60 adorable illustrated collectible cards -- where we had previously gotten only unique cards in every box -- we only found repeats after visiting the museum!

We packed up and headed towards Ísafjörður, another two hours northwest.

We quickly learned that the high point of the Westfjords was in the center of the peninsula -- and every time we needed to transit across the roads took us through the highest elevations of the landmass. Today's crossing showed light fresh snow...

Down at lower elevations we found a beautiful overlook covered in a carpet of red. We realized that the low-lying bushes all around were bog bilberry bushes! And the evergreen bushes below those were crow berries, both laden with berries -- completely edible and very delicious. The crow berries were more bitter though.

We passed fisheries in the open water.

More mountains, and more waterfalls.

Before coming across a gravel lot that appeared to be a trailhead -- leading to two waterfalls in the distance. We parked and headed to one.

The trail lead to the base of a waterfall, coyly hidden behind some lava.

We walked back to the car and continued onwards, stopping by a very picturesque shed.

We continued past the few remaining fjords that stood between us and our destination for the night, turning around the tip of the last peninsula and into the fjord that contained the village by the early evening.

They built the city in the middle of the fjord! To protect it from avalanches.

Before long we had made it into the village in the sea and to our guesthouse for the night. We stood in the vestibule for at least 30 minutes before someone wandered out (we called several times) and checked us in. She was the first grumpy host in Iceland we had encountered...

We had a tiny room in the partially below grade basement, which had inoperable windows and dense condensation on the glass... We cooked up a meal in the tiny shared kitchen and went to sleep.

The setting was magnificent, the village surrounded by snow capped peaks. The water was still and calm when we headed out the next morning.

We drove to Flateyri, a deep fjord with the town also built partially in the water.

First we drove a little bit past, to find a waterfall on the map. We came upon a quiet area filled with more of the red low-lying bushes. We took a closer look. We discovered a veritable bounty of berries which it turns out and started picking them. I was the only one picking since Vitali "ain't gonna bend over to pick no berries".

We went looking for the waterfall, but got lazy and didn't walk down to the water. The view up here was fine anyway.

After that, we parked near the earthen avalanche walls which were quite impressively erected to protect the village from the snow on the adjacent mountain. Inside was a disc golf course and a great view of town and the fjord.

We enjoyed some drive-by scenery as we continued our route.

We headed for Dynjandi, a gigantic named waterfall with a series of smaller falls and cascades set amongst the last red blush of fall. There were a few people crawling around the trails here but it was otherwise quiet.

The waterfall was huge.

Did I say how much I love waterfalls? The view in the other direction was sublime too. The warmth in the landscape was stunning.

My trusty tripod technician.

We continued on our journey, stopping at the trailhead of a small mountain that was supposed to have good views.

Spoiler Alert: it did.

We continued to the southwest, following the fjordland coastline.

Nearing our destination for the evening -- we stopped at The Holt í Önundarfirði.

Have you ever been some place so beautiful, you wanted to die?

We continued towards Patreksjörður, having left a piece of ourselves behind.

We passed more spectacular scenery, waterfalls, and the last blush of fall.

Also, one of the many public hot spring pools scattered across the island.

We came across a small waterfall which I have no record of other than this photo.

Here are some sheep.

All I have left to say -- take me back.

We were early for check-in so we headed to a nearby beach to take a look but it was so cold and windy that we went back to town and found some parking by the pier and waited until it was late enough for us to check in to our airbnb. We grabbed some groceries then headed over and were overjoyed to have more than 100 square feet of space. We stayed in this lady's lower level that had a bedroom, bath, living, and kitchen. It was wonderful.

In the morning Vitali made me pancakes and then we headed out for the day. We drove up to the top of the Látrabjarg cliffs but it was so windy, again, that when we started walking away from the car I began to doubt my ability to stay upright. We didn't want to be blown off the cliffs (an actual real possibility) so we turned around, got back in the car and drove down by Breiðavík Beach and then Rauðisandur Beach.

On the way we stopped at an intentionally beached ship, which was neat.

It was misting/slightly sunny by now, but still extremely windy. We passed beach after beach, all empty, all heart-achingly beautiful.

We had to cross over the interior of the peninsula to continue our journey -- and it was snowing again!

The sun began to get low as we headed back to our abode.

The tide was low over an extraordinarily wide tidal zone, creating spectacular plays of light, reflection, texture, and color.

My favorite memories are those I have from on the road, heading towards our destination as the day was ending and the sun, setting.

We stopped on the side of the road where some ponies and their foals were gathered. They were so fuzzy! One of the little ones would get jealous when I pet the other little one and would shove his head in between so he got the pets instead.

We continued, soaking in the views, the landscape, the moments in time.

The next morning as we were packing up we met the Owner of the house who was super nice. We headed over to Barðastrandarsandur, thinking this may be the last opportunity we have in a remote area to do a polar plunge....

We parked the car around 9am -- the car outside temp read 0 degrees. We sat and contemplated whether we should actually do this... Eventually we gathered the gumption and prepared dry clothing inside the vehicle, left the car running, and ran down to the beach -- stripping and plunging ourselves into the ice cold water (8 degrees celsius, 48F), baptizing ourselves in the North Atlantic Sea. The water actually felt warm because of the air temp, but it only lasted for a few seconds before our bodies realized what we were doing. We submerged ourselves, ran to the beach to collect our things, then sprinted back along the wide strip of sand to our car.

I have never been so cold in my life!

We warmed our extremities and headed onward, stopping at a particularly beautiful vista.

We headed towards Snaefellsness, also known as "Iceland in Miniature" due to the wide variety of natural features on the small peninsula.

So when we arrived at our first stop, we were not surprised to see more people around than we had in the last two weeks. We stopped and parked at the trailhead for Kirkjufellsfoss. There were a lot of photographers her, shooting the waterfall and the mountain in the backdrop that was featured in Game of Thrones. There were too many people for our taste so we took a few shots and left.

Gorgeous.

We drove a ways further and stopped at the trailhead for the Arnastapi and the Lóndrangar View Point, walking towards the sea to see what awaited us.

In true Icelandic fashion -- a giant troll!

And stunning sea cliffs. The sun was rapidly moving towards the horizon, coloring the sky a beautiful gold.

We stopped by Djupalonssandur beach to watch the sun set in the freezing weather.

And headed to our accomodations for the next two nights. We found ourselves in Gamla Rif, the oldest house in Rif. It was small, and we had a tiny double room on the first floor, right next to the stairs. We had a bathroom on the ground level but the showers were upstairs... So, at 5am the next morning, the Italians staying upstairs above us rolled down quite loudly...

In the morning it was cloudy and raining, so we headed to Skarðsvík beach and sat for awhile until we had gathered enough courage to leave our vehicle and brave the weather. The beach was gorgeous and empty.

The sea was turbulent.

We stopped by a bright orange lighthouse named Svörtuloft, and watched as a dutiful boyfriend took about 5 minutes of photos of his girlfriend in front of the rather ugly structure.

I felt the need to document how lichen and moss were slowly breaking down the lava. All I wanted to do was lay down on it!

We headed back to Djupalonssandur to actually walk out on to the beach. The beach holds in memorial the wreckage of an english trawler, shipwrecked in 1948 with fourteen dead and five surivivors.

We walked down in between the crags and came across four lifting stones, very popular with Vikings as a way to test strength before some potential duty. The stones range in weight from 50 lbs to 342 lbs and were used to test the strength of fishermen. Their names are Amlóði (useless), Hálfdrættingur (weakling), Hálfsterkur (half-strong) and Fullsterkur (full-strong).

I tried picking up the smallest one and failed, unable to get enough of a grip on the rounded surface to pick it up. Vitali got the second one as far as the photo.

The wreckage was sad to see but the landscapes were gorgeous. We followed a trail over to the next beach, walking about a half mile over the shittiest lava we had ever encountered. Just like Hawai'i, but worse.

More rapturous views. Never has a place so perfectly reflected the mercurial wildness in my soul.

The other beach had no visitors, and we walked down to the pebbly beach and observed the washed ashore remnants of the sea. The seaweed looked pretty tasty...

We headed back to our house for the night, watching the sun set from the parking lot.

In the morning we drove down the shittiest road to Ytri Tunga -- where there were supposedly seals and a whale graveyard. We had to pay 500 ISK to park! And we didn't even see any seals. Just a few scattered remains of whales who had come here at the ends of their lives.

We were crying like bitches at that point.

We stopped by a trail system that led to a few cascades and waterfalls for a quick gander. We were over waterfalls by this point though...

We found a few shots and then left, eager to check off the last few highlights of the trip.

We pulled back into the lot that we had visited a few weeks prior, this time committing to actually leaving our car and seeing the thing. The thing being Þingvellir, the P shaped letter pronounced like th.

We headed out along the marked trail, following where the edge of two tectonic plates meet -- both of Europe and of the Americas. This was very busy, even though it was not super exciting to look at. Apparently you can dive in the water here and that is pretty cool but this didn't have the same level of drama that intellectually it seemed to posess.

We found some parking nearby to see the famous Cathedral in the capital -- Hallgrímskirkja. At the parking pay station we found a lost credit card and returned it to the building lobby.

We walked over to the church and took it all in -- a stunning interpretation of basalt columns and an extraordinarily spare interior design.

We realized at this point we accidentally kept the key to our room in Snæfellsnes, so we met with the caretaker at another airbnb in town -- and he came out wearing a Broncos shirt!

We drove back out the Reykjanes peninsula to the Blue Lagoon, where we had two tickets booked for an evening in geothermal waters. We walked around the outside of the building for a little bit to take pictures (I didn't want to take my camera into the lagoon). It was bleak in the best way. Bleak chic.

It was drizzling lightly but no matter... we checked in, got our wristbands, and prepared for the plunge.

We floated around for awhile, redeeming our free drinks and free mud mask, before going on a search to find the hot water inlets. We found a few and lingered in those area for a bit. We were reassured by signage that the entirety of the pools recirculates in something like 6 hours.

We eventually decided we had had enough, packed up, and headed towards the airport for our last stay of the trip and in Iceland -- an art gallery/airbnb that I had found.

We texted the owner that we were there and we found the keys in the front door. Not too long after settling in a giant man came rumbling through the front door, in a bathrobe and slippers. "My name is Ragnar", he announced in a bellowing voice, exactly as you would imagine the descendent of a Viking might -- "and you are staying in an art gallery. Not a hotel -- not an airbnb -- but an Art Gallery." And he went on to explain that this gallery features the work of his deceased uncle, who was pretty talented. Everything was great except the restroom we had use of was the one inside of his house next door. A little awkward!

We enjoyed the gallery, looking at every painting and then going to sleep.

In the morning, we packed up and headed towards the airport for our flight out. We ran into a little trouble at Border Control since we had no stamps documenting that we had LEFT the Schengen Zone (the agent tried to argue with the official Faroe Islands government website that they were INSIDE of the Schengen Zone -- for the record they are NOT) and because our stay within Europe, as incorrectly calculated by this undereducated agent -- was over the 90 day limit for Americans. I think we were at 98. I tried to argue that we did indeed leave the Schengen Zone when we went to the Faroes so we were in fact under 90 days -- but they weren't budging. We didn't have a stamp to back us up although we had airline tickets. The person DGAF. So they grabbed their supervisor and we waited and the supervisor said basically that we were over the limit but there are no fines for going over the limit within Iceland. SO we were free to leave the island but would be barred from re-entering the Schengen Zone for 6 months. Fine with me.

We boarded the plane and flew back to JFK where my dad picked us up. I had the strangest feeling on that final flight. Like I was finally completely comfortable being a traveller.