We are reluctantly up at our normal 6:15, this time with only 45 minutes of F’ing Foghorn disturbance at 3am. Honestly – if we could rip that foghorn button out of the Bridge – we would do it in a heartbeat. Nobody else is up and about this morning, probably because we aren’t getting into port until 11a, and Creweoke was jam packed last night. Fine by us, we have the ship to ourselves as we grab our coffee then hit the gym.
Later we wander around up on Deck 10 and 11, then hang out on the balcony, for beautiful views of the fjord as we sail toward Isafjordur.
Late morning is spent in the Cabaret with Dr. Jannie’s Vikings and Voyages talk:
An interesting discussion of Viking routes, how they explored the Faroe Islands, Iceland and Greenland around 874; a small number of Irish monks were already in Iceland, but Vikings established first villages there; Vikings settled in the islands due to political upheaval in Norway; Reykjavik is known as bay of smoke for volcanoes (which is pretty topical since the Sundhnukur fissure just erupted and the town of Grindavik and the Blue Lagoon were evacuated for a day or so); Erik the Red settled in (ran away to) Greenland after he murdered someone (in the first marketing ploy ever recorded, Erik called the land “Greenland” to get people to visit); Leif Erikson, son of Erik, born in Iceland, then went to Greenland with father.
Dr. Jannie also talks about Norse legends, how they influenced JRR Tolkien – the name Gandalf and the hobbits came from Norse mythology; the strong belief in elves and trolls – Anna talked about the elf thing at Holmanes, how she believed in elves when she was a little girl – which were used to explain earthquakes, ice, and fire (volcanoes); children were told trolls were in the lava fields and would erupt or burn you if you went there, effectively keeping out of harm’s way because they were scared of the trolls. Another fun fact – Icelandic naming conventions: – Sigurd is father, son would be [boy’s first name here] Sigurdsson; daughter would be [girl’s first name here] Sigurdsdottir. Explains so much (i.e., Leif Erikson!)
We also learn about Ísafjörður, the largest settlement in the peninsula of Vestfirdir (Westfjords) region of northwest Iceland, population 2,744. The name means ice fjord, and obviously named for a good reason as the town is connected to rest of country only by narrow mountain roads and is basically isolated in the winter as all roads are impassable. It has been a trading post since the 16thC, filled with old timber and iron clad housing built for the original fishing merchants who settled here. Fun fact: 90% of households are heated by renewable energy.
We aren’t going to have time to explore the town, as we have a ship tour at 1pm, but we do have a bit of time to explore the little museum area near the pier and hit the liquor store (the only place to buy beer) which is mercifully near so quick like bunnies, we run to the cabin after the lecture and hit the gangway. Where I promptly remember that I don’t have my wallet. Shit! I had to run back aboard, messing up the keys in the process because I had Ed’s key as well, running to get the wallet, running back outside, messing up the keys again (thank God for Madel, our sweet and fabulous security guard who took care of this idiot passenger with ease!), until finally we were out of the pier area and on our way. Phew. Sweat inducing in so many ways!
Snapping some shots of the traditional buildings that house the little museum, as well as with the Aldrei for Eg Sudur statue which means “I never went South” and promotes an annual music festival held here every Easter weekend since 2004. The saying comes from a migrant worker’s song that alludes to the urbanization of the Icelandic society, reflecting on how many people leave Isafjordur – the Icelandic Rock City – to go South to Reykjavik – or abroad – to find work. Then it is off the beer store and back to the ship for a quick lunch before our tour.
Sitting in the sun on the Sunset Deck, we have a great lunch with a view of Naustahvilft – the Troll Seat – a bowl-shaped hollow in the mountains that according to legend formed when a giantess sat down to rest, leaving an impression in the landscape. And it does look just like a gigantic seat up there in the hills. Gotta love the folklore here!
Of to our tour, today we are going to Sudureyri, a small Icelandic fishing village at the end of the 13 km-long Súgandafjörður in the Westfjords for the Seafood Trail – a history of the fishing village and samples of the main products….obviously seafood! A quick 30-minute drive through incredibly gorgeous scenery, past craggy mountain slopes, lush green farmland dotted with rolls of grass, waterfall after waterfall and teeny little cottages (or fishing shacks) sitting out in the middle of nowhere next to the water. A stunningly gorgeous drive that also takes us through the tunnel that now connects Sudureyri to Isfjordur.
The tunnel is wild – 9km long in a Y shape. Before it was built, the town was totally isolated with once weekly flights for food and supplies. The Y parts of the tunnel are single lane with pull outs for drivers to stop and let oncoming traffic pass – which we have to do – sitting on the side of the tunnel until the other car(s) pass. Crazy – but obviously a bonus for everyone in Sudureyri and towns on the other side of the mountains past the “Y” intersection.
Arriving in the quaint little village, population 294 – with 15 kids in the kindergarten which our guide calls the “COVID” kids! – we hop off the bus and follow our fun guide – who has lived here all his life – through the town, first visiting the church, then the dock area to see a sample of the typical fish caught in these waters: Cod (Porskur), Redfish (Karfi), Haddock (Ysa), Pollock (Ufsi). All along the way, he gives us a history and overview of the fishing industry here, that there are three fish processing plants – one for frozen fish, one for dried fish and one for fertilizer production. That fisherman now have quotas assigned by the government to small fishing boats while big companies have to buy quotas from the government.
Walking through town, we pass the house the guide lives in – once the hospital, now converted into a residence. Since the tunnel has been built, there isn’t a need for a full-fledged hospital, only a clinic. And move on through the town, along the dockside with the different fishing boats, then onto the air-drying building where the fish are dried, essentially turning them into jerky. Our adorable guide (yeah, never really got his name properly) showed us how to soften up the fish for eating – basically beating it with a hammer – then after it was soft enough, he peeled the dried meat off the skin for us to taste – while regaling us with a cute story about putting the skin outside of his house and the cats came in droves. Sweet – although not the fish! It wasn’t totally awful, but it wasn’t a choice I’d make. More meh than anything.
Passing through the heart of the village where all the processing sheds are – and also some little homes – we have our next sampling – cod croquets (really good) – in a pretty setting with a picnic table in the middle of a green grassy field right on the fjord. Fun.
Our last stop is a little café where we have some excellent salmon on rye bread prepared two ways. Very delectable – and also Ed had to try the Harkarl – Rotten Shark! Our guide was so impressed Ed wanted to try it! Ed was excited because he’s wanted some since he heard about it, and today he finally got to eat his Rotten Shark (it smelled as it sounds!) and wash it down with a shot of Brenniven, a local unsweetened schnapps nicknamed black death. Uh huh. There was only one sampling at this table, I can assure you!
On the way back to the bus we pass by a tower of rocks dedicated to a poet from the town who was famous for journaling the details of life in the early days here (never did catch his name) as well as a beautiful mural in honor of Inga Jonasar, a local woman who became a famous singer and guitar player. We also pass by a playground with a real boat for the kids to play on and the marvelous mural of Iceland painted on the local school.
Then it is back through the tunnel, past the mountains and waterfalls, down into the town of Isafjordur with more excellent views of the Troll’s seat…
…and onto the ship where we relax on the balcony, watching people scurry back aboard after running through the empty fields near the ship where Arctic terns attacking them. Seriously, these birds are mean – they are swooping and pecking and attacking anyone who walks near the field. It is hysterical – and frightening to watch. The darn birds even go after a crow minding its own business in the field. Crazy birds! And then we are off, sailing through the gorgeous fjord once again, now on our way to Reykjavik and almost the end of our first leg.
Andiamo 