Cruise Characters We ran into several colorful characters on the ship, some of whom epitomized the Ugly American. • A couple in the pool lounge area moved from one table for four to another table for four when their two friends arrived—using new place settings instead of taking their used ones with them—for no apparent reason. • This couple decided to take up two tables meant for three people. I realize there were very few people in the area, but someone has to clean up and this just makes you look selfish and entitled.
We boarded one excursion bus with a group that said they were from Colorado, but with whose accents sounded Texan. We figured their money came from either oil or ranching. Grandma—who wore a full-length fur coat even though the temperature was in the upper 50s—and Grandpa were footing the bill for themselves, their two divorced sons, the sons’ two grandsons and the grandsons’ skanky girlfriends, one of whom wore a dark nose ring which looked like a crusty booger from a distance. One of the sons never parted with his white cowboy hat even while on the ship or at dinner. As we took our seats behind them, we overheard them talking about hunting. One remarked, “Just because it’s illegal, doesn’t make it wrong.”
Another good ol’ boy with money told a couple they’d befriended, “We did the Bangkok to Bali cruise last year!” That one starts at six grand per person for the bargain basement accommodations and up to around $20,000 for the Explorer Suites.
There was a couple on the Southern Coast of Iceland tour who were a walking advertisement for Outdoor Man. They had waterproof windbreakers with matching zippered rain pants and matching rain hats, full-length walking sticks, backpacks filled with granola bars and other munchies “for the journey.” They made a point of loudly proclaiming how well-prepared they were—”Gee, it’s a good think we have these rain pants!”—unlike us poor peasants who lacked their foresight—even though there was only a light, intermittent drizzle and our stops were 20 minutes max.
One couple could have been Santa and Mrs. Claus on vacation. He had a white beard and a long white ponytail; she had equally long full, white hair. We ran into them a couple of times in the hallway; they were very nice people! I wonder if the elves and reindeer got time off.
A cranky, old guy and his wife took up a table for six; it was littered with plates of half-eaten food. He asked one of the waitstaff for a glass of water with lemon but became irritable when it came with ice. “I said no ice, no ice!” The waiter brought him another one, sans ice, but the man never drank it. The next day the same dickhead set up his computer and paperwork on one of the video game tables in the Atrium instead of using a guest table.
We ran into an elderly couple several times. The husband, who was always very quiet, deserves to be nominated for sainthood. His wife complained about everything! She had neglected to make a reservation for the Chef’s Table and was complaining to the hostess because they couldn’t be seated. She complained to the waitstaff at dinner in the World Café about whatever irritated her. Several times we caught her annoying the people at Guest Services for something which I’d guess was relatively trivial. As a friend of mine says, “I just nod, smile and drive the car.”
Peg overheard someone talking on his phone to what she assumed was his financial advisor. “I know it’s only dropped $6 million, but do you think we should just dump it?” ONLY $6 million???
One couple at dinner raised our eyebrows. He looked like a college professor, balding with grey hair, in a dress shirt and sweater vest. She was much younger, probably early 20s and wore a plaid skirt, giving off a Japanese schoolgirl vibe, while sporting a silver band on her left hand. Was she his personal assistant or was he her sugar daddy? We’ll never know.
A passenger asked Guest Services if anyone had turned in his lost Air Pods. “Where did you lose them?” “Somewhere on the ship…or maybe on one of the excursions.” (And you waited this long to ask???)
We were having coffee and tea at a table on Deck 1 just after breakfast. A very unhappy-looking woman sat across from us at the bar, downing cocktails at 9:30am. We wondered if the cruise was supposed to help a troubled relationship, much like some couples who think having a baby will bring them closer together. At least sailing was far cheaper than raising a kid for 18 years after the inevitable divorce.
Just for fun, I noted people who reminded me of celebrities: • Ed O’Neill • Rick Bayless • Lorne Michaels • a guy who could have been the love child of Bill Engvall and Scott Bakula.
Things I noticed • Icelandair served 8 oz. soft drink cans. • Iceland vendors use sturdy paper straws instead of plastic. No one complains. • The drinks at the hot dog stand were 12 oz. No Big Gulps, and no one complains. • All the toilets were wall-mounted, which makes cleaning bathroom floors much easier. • Public toilet stalls have full-length doors. • I found a can of Einstök Ölgerð’s White Ale at a local liquor store. It produces a very delicate head that resembles meringue
Guide to Icelandic Words and Pronunciation The Icelandic alphabet has 32 letters. • C, Q, W and Z are missing; Ð, Þ, Æ and Ö are unique additions. • Ð and Þ are both th- sounds, but Ð is soft as in “thick”, while Þ is hard, as in “weather.” • Æ/æ is pronounced “ayee” • Ó/ó is pronounced “ou,” while Ö/ö is pronounced “oo.”
There are unique letter combinations and pronunciations: • fnd and fnt are both pronounced “mt”, but the latter is softer. • hv is pronounced “kv” •ll is either “ll” as in villa, or “tl.” You can find more information here: IPA Pronunciation Key for Icelandic
Icelandic names are often short words combined into one long one. The two rules for pronunciation are: • break it down to the individual words • stress the first syllable.
For instance. The volcano Eyjafjallajökull erupted in 2010, and pronouncing it confounded most English-speaking people. The components are eyja (“ay-ya”), “island,” fjalla (“fyal-la”), “mountains,” and jökull (“yo-kool”), glacier. So, Eyjafjallajökull means “island mountains glacier) and is pronounced “ay-ya-fyal-a-yo-kool.”
Some other common component words are: • hvoll (“kvoll”) = hills • völlur (“vut-lur) = field • selja (“sell-ya”) = sell • skóga (“sko-ah) = forests • foss (“fohss) = waterfall • urgöng (“uhr-gung”) = tunnel • ís (“ees”) = ice • fjörður (“fyor-thur”) = fjord
So, in English, Hvolsvöllur is “hill field”, Seljalandsfoss is “selling the land of waterfalls,” Skógafoss is “forest waterfall,” and Ísafjörður is “ice fjord.”
People who have never been to Iceland mistakenly believe it is a year-round frozen wasteland covered in glaciers with marauding polar bears. But Icelandic winters aren’t as cold as one might think because the warm currents of the North Atlantic Gyre create a milder climate. Average December temperatures in Reykjavik and Southern Iceland are in the low 30s, while they are about 15° colder in the northern regions.
Reykjavik has around 12”-16” of snow every year but gets rain more often than not. The north, being colder, gets far more snow, which is great for the ski resorts in Ísafjörður, Akureyri and Seyðisfjörður.
The long, dark nights are the real killer, with only 4-5 hours of daylight in Reykjavik and about an hour less in the north. However, this means more time for viewing the Northern Lights when the skies are clear.
Despite the cold and darkness, the Icelandic people welcome the holiday season with 26 days of Jól (“Yule”), embracing culture, traditions, festivities, food and more. It begins on December 12 with the appearance of the first Yule Lad and continues until January 6.
“Gleðileg Jól!” (“Gley-thi-leg Yole”) is “Merry Christmas” in Icelandic.
Aðventukrans – Advent Wreaths Icelanders are predominantly Lutheran, and like Catholics, they celebrate Advent, the four weeks leading up to Christmas. Originating in Germany, Aðventukrans (“Ath-ven-tu-kranz”) Advent wreaths, are based on a pre-Christian Germanic ritual anticipating spring’s return. The evergreen ring symbolizes the continuation of life. There are three purple or blue candles symbolizing Hope, Faith and Peace, and one rose candle symbolizing Joy.
Making Adventurkrans is an Icelandic family Christmas tradition. They light the candles, one by one, each Sunday before Christmas; the rose candle is lit on the Third Sunday of Advent, also known as Gaudete.. People will say a short prayer or blessing after lighting the candles and some will light a white candle in the center of the wreath for Christmas Eve or Day.
(Our pageantry-obsessed former priest wasn’t satisfied with any old Advent wreaths. He commissioned a four-foot Advent wreath on a circular metal frame, which descended from the ceiling via a remote-controlled winch, with three-inch diameter, 18-inch candles at $25 each. Predictably, it failed to work one year and had to be repaired at considerable cost.)
Christmas Markets Every weekend people can flock to Christmas markets that are similar to the Christkindlmarket in Chicago:
Downtown Reykjavik’s Ingólfstorg Square becomes Jólaborgin (“Yol-a-bor-gin) or Yule Town. The Icelandic telecommunications company, Nova, builds an ice rink in the square and rents out skates and helmets. There are shops in the nearby Christmas Market in Austurvöllur (“Ooey-stir-vooy-thlur̥) Square for traditional Icelandic gifts like their famous wool sweaters. There are games and goodies for kids as well as musical performances.
The Christmas Village in Hafnarfjorður,(“Haf-na-fyor-thur”) a port town about 10km/6mi southwest of downtown Reykjavik, features shops selling handcrafted gifts and jewelry, and food stalls selling cookies, hot drinks and smoked lamb. There’s live music, storytelling and the occasional elf lurking about.
Christmas at Árbæjarsafn (“Ar-bay-yar-saf”), Iceland’s Open-Air Museum is open year-round and tells the story of Iceland’s past through historic buildings. In the summer museum staff dress in period costumes and do “chores” like smoking meat and spinning wool. (I wonder if they get a Britney Spears look-alike to churn butter for them.) During Advent the museum provides a “traditional Icelandic Christmas” experience. Visitors can make candles and bake laufabrauð, (“lauv ah brat”), Icelandic leaf bread.
Jólasveinar – Thirteen Santas Saint Nicholas, Europe’s Santa Claus is based on Nicholas of Myra, a 3rd century bishop who became the patron saint of children and others. He leaves presents for good children on Saint Nicholas Day, the saint’s feast day, which Western European Christians celebrate on December 5 or 6 and Eastern European Christians celebrate on December 18 or 19.
Iceland does not have Santa Claus. Instead, the Icelandic people celebrate 13 days of Christmas with Jólasveinar, the Yule Lads. According to legend, the Yule Lads of yore were troublemakers whose names reflected the pranks for which they were known. The contemporary Yule Lads are more benevolent, and one may encounter them on the streets. Every night from December 12th through December 24th, one Yule Lad appears and leaves small gifts in shoes that children place in windows. They leave in the order they appeared, starting on December 25 until the last one disappears on January 6th, not to be seen until the following season.
1.Stekkjastaur (Sheep-Cote-Clod): The first Lad to appear, he has two peg legs, harasses the sheep and sucks milk from them 2. Giljagaur (Gully Gawk): Hides in barns and steals milk froth from the buckets 3. Stúfur (Stubby): Very short and eats crusts from the pans he steals 4. Þvörusleikir (Spoon-Licker): Tall, thin, steals and licks þvörur (long wooden spoons) 5. Pottaskefill (Pot-Licker): Steals leftovers from pots 6. Askasleikir (Bowl Licker): Hides under beds and steals askur, one’s personal dining plate 7. Hurðaskellir (Door Slammer): Slams doors during the night 8. Skyrgámur (Skyr Gobbler): Obsessed with skyr, Icelandic yogurt 9. Bjúgnakrækir (Sausage Swiper):Hides in the rafters and steals smoked sausages 10. Gluggagægir (Window Peeper):Looks in people’s windows for things to steal 11. Gáttaþefur (Door Sniffer): Uses his large nose and keen sense of smell to find Laufabrauð. 12. Ketrókur (Meat Hook): Steals meat with a hook 13. Kertasníkir (Candle Beggar): Steals edible fat candles from children
One will often run into men dressed as Yule Lads roaming the streets of Reykjavik.
Santa’s Enforcers European cultures created demon companions for Saint Nicholas: Krampus in Austria, Zwarte Piet in the Netherlands, Knecht Ruprecht in Germany, Père Fouettard in France, and Schmutzli in Switzerland. They were dark characters, sometimes depicted with horns who punished the bad children by beating them with birch rods or leaving them coal and stones instead of gifts and sweets.
Grýla, Troll Mother
Iceland has Grýla, the Yule Lads’ troll mother, a thoroughly unpleasant woman who has claws, hooves and a tail. She snatches naughty children, stuffs them into a sack and takes them back to her cave to be boiled in a cauldron and eaten. (I’m reminded of a quote by W.C. Fields: “There’s no such thing as a tough child – if you parboil them first for seven hours, they always come out tender.”)
Jólakötturinn, Grýla’s Bad Kitty
Grýla’s pet, Jólakötturinn (“Yo-la-ka-thur-in”), the Yule Cat is an enormous creature with glowing red eyes, sharp claws and whiskers,. It eats children who have not received any new clothes for Christmas, making them grateful for getting mundane gifts like socks, scarves or sweaters. (It’s thought that farmers used it as an “incentive” for workers to finish processing their wool before Christmas.) A large lighted statue of Jólakötturinn appears in downtown Reykjavik every year.
Christmas Traditions December 23 –Þorláksmessa(“thor laks messa”) –St. Thorlac’s Day Named for Iceland’s patron saint, this is the final day of Christmas preparation. People celebrate by eating kæst skata (“kay-est skah-tah”), putrefied skate (stingray) that smells of ammonia, along with potatoes and sweet rye bread. Like hákarl (“har-kardl”), the infamous fermented shark, it is an acquired taste and definitely not for the faint of heart. (I’d rather indulge pasteles, the Puerto Rican version of Christmas tamales.)
December 24 – Aðfangadagur (“ahth fang a da gur”) Christmas Eve Families gather on Aðfangadagur for dinner which may include: • Hangikjöt (“han-gee-kot”) – lamb that was traditionally hung in a shed and smoked in sheep dung because the original settlers cut down all the birch trees. It is sliced and served hot or cold with potatoes, peas and laufabrauð. • Hamborgarhryggur (“Ham-bor-gar-ree-gur”) – glazed smoked rack of pork, imported from Hamburg, Germany by way of Denmark. It is often served with caramelized potatoes and Waldorf salad (a classic side when I was a kid) • Jólajógúrt (“yo-la-yo-gurt”), literally “Christmas yogurt,” available only during Christmas. It has an interesting list of ingredients, including strawberries, cocoa butter and cocoa paste, barley malt and malted wheat. • Rjúpa (“ryoo-pa”) rock ptarmigan, a type of grouse, served with caramelized potatoes and red cabbage. It’s now a protected species and difficult to come by although the lucky may find it in certain restaurants.
Jólasmákökur After dinner it’s time to bring out desserts and drinks. Nothing says Christmas like Jólasmákökur (“Yo-las-mah-koh-kur”), Icelandic Christmas cookies: • Marens Kornflexkokur (Chocolate Cornflake Cookies): Made simply with egg-whites, sugar, chopped chocolate, corn flakes and vanilla. Our version is Cornflake Wreaths, cornflakes mixed with melted marshmallows dyed green, shaped into wreaths and then dotted with Red Hots • Sörur (“Sore-oor”): Almond macaroons topped with chocolate butter cream, then dipped in a chocolate glaze. Also known as Sarah Bernhardt cookies, they were created in Copenhagen in 1911 as a tribute when she came to Denmark for the Danish publication of her memoirs. • Lakkrístoppar (“Lah-krees-top-par”): Meringue cookies with chocolate and filling of choice, usually licorice. • Spesíur (“spay-see-ur”): A sugar cookie topped with a chocolate button, similar to our Peanut Blossoms, sans peanut butter. Offset the buttons and you can make googly eyes. • Hálfmánar (“half-man-ar”): Sugar cookies made with cardamom and lemon. The rolled dough is cut into circles, filled with rhubarb jam and folded into half-moons before baking. The traditional Icelandic recipe uses ammonium carbonate (“smelling salts”) instead of baking powder, which gives your kitchen an obnoxious odor. • Piparkökur (“pee-par-ko-kur”): gingerbread cookies with pepper added to the dough. • Vanilluhringir (“van-eel-oo-ring-ere”): A classic vanilla cookie, shaped into rings, like one of the cookies in the Danish Cookie tins. • Bessastaðakökur (“Bess-ah-stah-ta-ko-kur): A sugar cookie made with clarified butter, then topped with Demerara sugar and chopped almonds before baking. Bessastaðir is the Icelandic White House, and presidents often serve these cookies to guests.
Icelandic Christmas Drinks • Malt og Appelsín also known as Jólaöl (“Yol-ahl”): Combination of two popular soft drinks, Egils Maltextrakt, and Egils Appelsín, a fizzy orange soft drink. People can combine the two at home or buy pre-mixed cans during the holidays. Pour the malt into the orange soda to avoid a Mentos and Coke explosion.
• Brennivín (“Bren-uh-vin”): the infamous ‘Black Death,” a potent akvavit/aquavit, made from fermented potatoes and flavored with caraway. • Christmas Beers. Limited-edition brews available only at Christmastime with names such as: ○ Bjólfur Grenibjór: caramel and pine flavors ○ Magnús Frúktus (“fruity Christmas beer”): flavored with raspberries, blueberries, cherries and vanilla. ○ Jólakisi IPA (“Christmas Cat beer”): tropical flavors of mango, pineapple, and passion fruit. ○ Einstök’s Icelandic doppelbock: A dark lager with roasted malt, caramel and coffee flavors.
Finally, at midnight, families will gather to open presents and partake in the cherished Icelandic tradition of exchanging books, known as Jólabókaflóð,(“Yol-ah-boke-ah-flot”) the Book Avalanche. It’s a time to curl up by the fire with hot cocoa and treats and share stories or read. Indeed, their love for books and storytelling is so great that one in ten Icelanders will publish a book!
December 25 – Jóladagur (“Yo-la-da-gur”) Christmas Day: The day after the night before is quieter, a time to relax, (and eat, of course!)
December 26 – Annar í jólum (“An-ar-ee-yo-lum”) Boxing Day: Literally “another one for Christmas” people leave their homes and gather with friends and family they may not have seen on this “second day of Christmas. Bars are open again and the party continues.
December 31 – Gamlársdagur (“Gam-lars-da-gur) New Year’s Eve: Translated as “Old Age Day,” Icelanders send out the old year with a bang. After yet another dinner, people will gather around 8:30pm at several sites in Reykjavik and in other towns for Áramótabrennur (“Ar-ah-mo-ta-bren-ur), the traditional New Year’s Eve bonfires. After that, everyone will go home to watch Áramótaskaup (“Ar-uh-moh-tas-kup”) the annual satirical sendup of the year’s events at 10:30pm. It’s comparable to John Oliver’s Last Week Tonight year end reviews.
Just before midnight people gather to watch fireworks displays and set off their own. Iceland Search and Rescue (ICE-SAR) teams use fireworks sales (this is the only time when private fireworks are legal) to raise funds, taking in about 800 million ISK ($6,284,368) in 2022. One can also watch the Reykjavik fireworks from anywhere in the world, courtesy of RÚV TV online (6pm CST). People wish each other, “Gleðilegt nýtt ár!” (“Glee-tha-leg-neet-ar”) which means “Happy New Year!” in Icelandic. The celebrations continue well into the night, with parties, gatherings, and festivities, much like the annual debauchery in Times Square.
January 1 – Nýársdagur (“Nee-yaus-da-gur”) (New Year’s Day): Aside from nursing hangovers, on New Year’s Day people will leave their homes open or set a place at the table to welcome elves and trolls.
January 6 – Þrettándinn (“Thre-tan-din”): Also known as “Old Christmas” and “Second New Year’s Eve,” January 6 marks the end of the Christmas season. Christians celebrate Epiphany, the day the Magi arrived in Bethlehem and God revealed Himself through the baby Jesus. Icelanders also celebrate Þrettándinn with more bonfires in honor of the fairies and elves that are leaving. Many local celebrations elect Fairy Queens and Kings who lead participants in “elf dances” around the fire.
Amusing folk legends arose around Þrettándinn. One is that cows miraculously begin speaking in rhyming couplets that will drive anyone listening mad. Another is that seals are the soldiers from Pharaoh’s army who drowned in the Red Sea. They shed their skins, becoming humans who dance naked on beaches before retrieving them and returning to the sea. The last Yule Lad, Kertasníkir (Candle Beggar), leaves until the following December 23.
As we pulled into each port, we were awakened every morning by the cheery voice of our Cruise Director, Katy Syrett, a dark-haired Scottish beauty who also sings and dances in the after hours. It reminded me a bit of the daily announcements that greeted Patrick McGoohan in The Prisoner, without the sinister undertone.
Ísafjörður (“ee-sa-fyo-tthur”) is the largest town in the Westfjords, which is relative, given only 2,700 people live there permanently. It is located on the Skutulsfjörður (“skoo-tuls-fyo-tthur”) fjord, a branch of the larger Ísafjarðardjúp (“ee-sa-fyo-tthar-djup”) fjord. In 2023 Ísafjörður extended the port to accommodate larger cruise ships, but also set a limit of 5,000 passengers disembarking per day to avoid overwhelming the town’s resources.
Our ship docked near the Naustahvilft Troll Seat, (“noy-stah-klift”) a large depression in the mountains next to the fjord. According to legend, sunlight turns trolls into stone and Naustahvlift was created when a troll hid in the hollow in the cliff to avoid the approaching dawn. Her enormous weight turned it into a seat; the adventurous can hike the trail and take in a spectacular view of Ísafjörður.
Today’s activity was touring Ísafjörður and Bolungarvik (“bol-un-gar-vik”), a small fishing village about 8 miles north. We disembarked from Deck A, the lowest passenger-accessible deck, this time through a narrow corridor and on to a long ramp with a very slight decline. Getting back on the ship was a bit of a nightmare as we ran into people headed out for the next tour. After that, the staff started staggering departures and arrivals.
Our tour guide was a pleasant and amusing young man from the U.K. who was far easier to understand and more personable than our native Icelandic guide on Sunday. We passed by two men loading a stretcher into a hearse as we were leaving the dock. I don’t think it was anyone from our ship, but you never know.
The bus meandered through the narrow village streets, past small guest houses and hotels in the city center. Our guide pointed to a construction site where Ísafjörður is adding land mass into the harbor to build student housing for the University Centre of the Westfjords, whose enrollment increased substantially after COVID restrictions were lifted.
We headed out of town on the narrow highway hugging the shoreline. We saw four large, circular structures jutting out of the water; these are open-net salmon farms which contribute to the economy, but at a cost. Farmed salmon have escaped from the pens, threatening the survival of wild salmon, whose global numbers have been dwindling. Sea lice and the pesticides used to treat them, along with the salmon’s own waste, pollute the water and may cause dangerous algae growth.
The bus entered the Bolungarvíkurgöng (“bol-un-gar-vik-uhr-gung”) Tunnel a few miles further along the road. The tunnel, 5.4km/3.36mi long, was opened in 2010, bypassing the treacherous coastal road which was susceptible to rock falls and avalanches from the Óshlíð (“ohs-lith”) mountains. The tunnel is well lit and there are turnouts along the way for passing.
Entrance to Bolungarvíkurgöng. Christian Bickel, 2011.License CC BY-SA 2014
The Vestfjarðagöng (“vest-fyar-tha-gung”)Tunnel, west of Ísafjörður, is the longest tunnel in Iceland and has three arms which meet in the middle. That would have been an intriguing sight!
Entrance to Vestfjardargöng. Bromr, 2009. License CC BY-SA 2014
Trolls, elves, monsters and ghosts are part of Iceland’s storytelling heritage. Most Icelanders hedge their bets and won’t openly deny their existence…just in case. So, when the Bolungarvíkurgöng tunnel was being excavated, the construction workers started the day by apologizing to the trolls within the mountain for disturbing them…just in case.
Bolungarvík is a small coastal village (pop. 1,022), founded in 940 AD. It was one of the largest fishing stations in Iceland for centuries. Fishing and fish processing became the primary source of income at the end of the 19th century. The town was inaccessible except by boat until 1950 when the first road to the village was completed. Between April and September sport fishermen flock to Bolungarvík angling for cod, redfish, haddock and halibut. (The average halibut is 100kg/220lbs!)
Bolungarvík
Plaque at Ósvör Maritime Museum
According to legend, Þuríður (“thur-ee-thur”) Sundafyllir and her brother, Þjóðólfur (“thyo-thol-fur”), the founders of Bolungarvík, got into a pissing contest after Þuríður granted her brother all the land he could fence in one day. Þjóðólfur didn’t fence as much land as he’d anticipated and became angry when his sister wouldn’t let him have any more. Out for revenge, he tried to steal one of Þuríður’s oxen, but she caught him.
The siblings were also sorcerers and cast spells on each other. Þuríður said, (and I’m paraphrasing), “Yo, sheep dung for brains! For trying to steal my ox, you shall become a rock that birds will defecate on for eternity!” Þjóðólfur turned to stone and fell into the bay, where birds shit on him until 1936 when, according to the locals, he mysteriously disappeared.
Þjóðólfur retaliated. “You wanna play that game, bee-yach? YOU shall forever become a rock where the winds blow the strongest.” And with that, Þuríður turned into a stone that sits at the top of Óshlíð. How he managed to cast a spell when he was already turned to stone was never explained in the legend.
We drove through town and stopped at Félagsheimilið Bolungarvík, (“fya-lath-shay-mi-lith”) the town’s community center, where a local musician performed two of his own compositions. The first was about an obscure wrestling tradition, (possibly Glíma (“glee-ma”), but I wouldn’t swear to it) and the second lamented the long Icelandic winters. Both were in Icelandic, so we couldn’t understand any of the lyrics, but he was passionate.
We reboarded the bus and on our way out of town our guide talked about the Arctic Tern, a bird that one site described as “so graceful and yet such a nuisance.” Instead of picking secluded areas, terns build their nests wherever the hell they want and become very aggressive if an unsuspecting human wanders near the eggs. They will dive bomb one’s head and, if they are particularly miffed, shit on you for good measure. Our guide was once attacked trying to draw the terns away from the tourists in his charge.
The bus turned around across from Óshólar (“oh-sho-lar”) Lighthouse and drove back to the Ósvör (“ohs-vur”) Maritime Museum, a 19th century replica of a fishing station. There are three small buildings: a fish drying platform, a salting shed, and crew quarters with tools. An old fishing boat sits on the beach. The museum’s guide is dressed in traditional sheepskin fishing gear, minus the fish oil waterproofing actual fishermen used, which gave it an offensive smell! The path to the buildings was rocky and somewhat steep, so we skipped this part of the tour. (Note to self: next time bring the walking sticks you packed!)
Traditional Fisherman, Bolungavík, Iceland. TommyBee. Public domain
The bus took us back into Bolungarvík where we turned around again and headed back to Ísafjörður. We went through the town center, past the local hospital and Íþróttahúsið á Torfnesi (“ee-throw-tha-hoo-sith”), the Torfnes Sports Hall, then west out of town to the Bunárfoss (“boo-nyar-foss”) Waterfall in the Tungudalur (“toon-goo-tha-lur”) Valley, where our guide promised us we would sample a glass of the purest water in Iceland.
Bunárfoss is not as spectacular as Seljalandsfoss or Skogafoss, but it’s still impressive. The more physically fit can climb 80m/262ft to the top of the falls for a view of the valley below. The waters continue in a gentle brook.
Bunárfoss Waterfall
Downstream from Bunárfoss
We got off the bus and the driver handed us plastic cups while our guide filled a restaurant style plastic pitcher with water from the stream, doling out samples to the curious. He then noted the water was so pure because there were no sheep in the mountains to contaminate it. It tasted remarkably like…water.
Our group, waiting to sample the waters.
Foliage at Bunárfoss
Thirst quenched, we handed our cups to the driver and boarded the bus. Satisfied we were all accounted for, our guide told us a tale about a different tour.
“Before leaving, the driver asked if anyone was missing. No one spoke up so he pulled out of the parking lot. Just then he noticed a woman in the road behind him, waiving her hands frantically. He stopped and said ‘I thought no one was missing.’ A man a few seats back said, ‘That’s my wife. She’s always late for everything, so I thought this would teach her a lesson.’ “
Dead man walking…
On our way back to the ship we passed the Tungudalsvöllur (“toon-goo-tha-lur-vote-lur”) Golf Course: 9 holes, par 70 and a three-month season. Probably the only thing my brother-in-law would find worthwhile about this trip.
Tungudalsvöllur Golf Course
I investigated “Things to do in Ísafjörður” when I began this blog post and discovered there are two ski resorts on the mountains above Bunárfoss. Tunguladur, for downhill skiing, has 3 lifts and a ski lodge. Seljalandsdalur (“sel-ya-lands-da-lur”) is for cross-country skiing. I’m writing this during the second week of September and Ísafjörður already has snow and winter weather warnings!
Easter in Iceland is a five-day national holiday, from Holy Thursday until Easter Monday, and an opportunity for the hardy to “…flee to Iceland’s winter resorts where they ski from dawn until dark, get wasted on Black Death eat buried shark and boogey until breakfast.” (Black Death is Brennivin, Iceland’s version of aquavit, a variety of herb-flavored liqueurs that are not for the faint of heart. Chicago’s ghastly Jeppson’s Malört is another version of aquavit.)
