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Day 5 – Seyðisfjörður

I was really looking forward to Seyðisfjörður (“say-this-fyor-thur”), a town in eastern Iceland, sitting at the innermost point of the fjord of the same name. We had turned to streaming services during COVID and discovered Ófærð (Trapped), an Icelandic crime series which was filmed in Siglufjörður in the north and Seyðisfjörður in the east (even though the two towns are four and a half hours apart on the Ring Road and that’s when the weather is good.) The ship passed Siglufjörður during the night on our way to Akureyri, so this would be my only chance to see where part of the series was filmed.

Trapped was our introduction to Nordic Noir – crime fiction that is deeply dark, brooding, and often brutal, unlike the often-stereotypical image of blonde, cheery Scandinavians frolicking in fields under the midnight sun. It is the antithesis of the popular British “cozy murder mystery” like Midsomer Murders, Father Brown, anything Agatha Christie and Grantchester. Henning Mankell is considered to be the father of Nordic Noir with his Kurt Wallander books. Other noted authors are Sweden’s Steig Larsson (The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo), Iceland’s Arnaldur Indriðason (Detective Erlendur), Norway’s Jo Nesbø (Detective Harry Hole). and Finland’s Leena Lehtolainen (Detective Maria Kallio).

In the first season of Trapped, Andre Olofsson, the police chief of an isolated town in Iceland, tries to unravel the murder of a man whose frozen torso is discovered in the harbor, while also dealing with his dysfunctional marriage. (Ólafur Darri Ólafsson, who bears a striking resemblance to our nephew Christopher, plays Andre) We saw it on Amazon Prime, but as of this writing it has moved to Plex, Pluto TV, and The Roku Channel. Watch the trailer here.

But I digress…

We hadn’t ordered room service for breakfast, so we had to get food in the World Café, a big mistake!  There were no inside tables at 9a.m., so we filled our plates and went out to the deck, which was really cold. We lasted about 10 minutes before hustling back to the ship’s warmth.

Cloudy and about 50°

We didn’t get a chance to visit any of the area’s highlights. Our previous excursions combined with the cold, damp weather left us tired and uncomfortable, and we didn’t book one of the bus tours. I had planned on the walking tour of Seyðisfjörður but only got as far as the port terminal before realizing it would not be a great idea. I bought a 2000 ISK (~ $14 US) potholder in the terminal with a 10,000 ISK bill (~ $72 US) just to get smaller denominations for tips and small purchases.

History of Seyðisfjörður
According to Landnámabók, the Icelandic Book of Settlement, Bjólfur (“Byol-foor”), blood brother of the powerful sorcerer Loðmundur the Old, settled in the fjord in the 11th century. There are graves dating back to the 8th century in the area around Seyðisfjörður. The town sits at the base of the mountain named after him, and Bjólfur is thought to be buried near the peak. Esja Architecture designed the Ring of Bjólfur a cantilevered 360° viewing platform, 650m/2133 ft. above the town, which is scheduled to be completed in 2025.

Seyðisfjörður began to develop in 1848 when Norwegian fishermen established the area as a fishing and trading post. There was a modern whaling station in nearby, now abandoned, Vestdalseyri (“Vest-dal-say-ree”)  between 1864 and 1866. In 1906 the first telegraph cable from Europe to Iceland terminated in Seyðisfjörður. A dam created across a nearby river was used to create the first hydroelectric plant in Iceland in 1913, supplying electricity to homes and street lights.

Although neutral and united with Denmark, the British Royal Navy and Royal Marines preemptively invaded and occupied Iceland in 1940. The Germans sank the British oil tanker El Grillo (The Cricket) sitting in Seyðisfjörður’s port, on February 11, 1944. The Kaffi Lára El Grillo Bar (named after the El Grillo and the previous occupant, the “legendary” Lára) serves meat, fish and a wide variety of Icelandic beers.

In December 2020 heavy rain triggered a series of mudslides which destroyed twelve houses, damaged more than forty others and the Technical Museum of Iceland. Seyðisfjörður was evacuated and the residents didn’t return until October 2021.

Seyðisfjörður has relied heavily on tourism, even more after Brim Seafood Company’s  local, outdated fish-processing plant shut down in 2023.  

The Smyril Line’s ferry Norröna, registered in the Faroe Islands, sails between Seyðisfjörður, the Faroe Islands and Hirtshals, Denmark mid-March through late November.  The terminal is an international port, so one must show a passport when going through the building in either direction, even though our ship was docked there. (The ferry was central to Trapped Season One’s plot.)

Seyðisfjörður International Port

The Road not Traveled
I did some research for this post about the opportunities we missed.

Seyðisfjarðarkirkja (“say-this-fyar-thar-kir-kya””), the iconic Blue Church, is one of the most famous sights in Seyðisfjörður, sitting at one end of Norðurgata (“North-ur-ga-ta”), the Rainbow Walk.

Walking tour with the Blue Church in the background.
Seyðisfjarðarkirkja and the Rainbow Walk

Skálanes (“Skau-la-nes”) Nature and Heritage Center sits on 1250-hectares/3100-acres about 17.4km/11mi northeast of Seyðisfjörður. More than forty bird species make their homes in the cliffs along the coast. Arctic terns and eider ducks have the largest colonies in the area. The ducks shed down from their breasts to keep their eggs warm. Eider down is an excellent insulator and harvesting the down is an Icelandic tradition. People use hay or seaweed to replace the down.

Seyðisfjörður has become a cultural center for artistic creativity. The Skaftfell Center for Visual Art was founded in honor of Dieter Roth, an influential Swiss-German artist who lived here in his later years. The Center supports established and ascending artists with a residency program, hosting exhibitions and seminars. The Skaftfell Bistro, on the Center’s ground floor,  is said to be one of the best places to eat in Seydisfjordur,

One of the more intriguing parts of Skaftfell is Tvísöngur (“Tvis-on-gur”), which means “two songs” in Icelandic. Lukas Kühne, a German-born artist, created Tvísöngur, a “site specific sound sculpture” of five interconnected domes of varying dimensions, designed to resonate to specific tones. I don’t understand the physics, but if you are morbidly curious, here’s a link to an academic thesis: Lukas Kühne’s Tvísöngur: Sculpture for a Concrete, Uncompressed Voice

Tvísöngur

Fjarðarheiði (“Fyar-thar-hay-thi”) is a 24.5km/15.22mi long mountain pass between Seyðisfjörður and Egilsstaðir (“Ae-yil-sta-thir”). The drive takes one from lush countryside to barren tundra at the 623m/2,043ft peak. It is a rather scenic drive if one is blessed with good weather. (We would likely have driven through fog if we’d made the trip). The Fjarðará River (“Fyar-tha-ra”) runs west along the roadway from Seyðisfjörður and is a good place for flyfishing in the summer. During the winter one can ski at Stafdalur Ski Station, (“Staff-da-lure”) a short 7.8km/4.8mi from Seyðisfjörður.

There are several waterfalls between in the area, the largest one being Gufufoss (“Goo-fu-foss”) about 4km/2.5mi southwest of Seyðisfjörður. Gufufoss means “steam waterfall” in Icelandic, so named because of the heavy mists that rise from the base of the falls. Gljúfurfoss (“Glue-fur-foss”), one of two falls with the same name is 5.1km/3mi west of Gufufoss, just east of Lake Heiðarvatn (“Hay-thar-vat”), and not to be confused with the other Lake Heiðarvatn, north of Vik in Southern Iceland.

Fardagafoss (“Far-da-ga-foss”) is 5.4km/3.5mi east of Egilsstaðir, at the roots of Fjarðarheiði. Ancient folklore told of a giant female troll with a large cauldron filled with gold who lived in the now-collapsed lava cave behind the falls. Sensing her coming demise, she pushed the kettle into a deep hole in another, different, falls named Gufufoss. Legend says you can see the kettle’s handle when the water level drops. One can also explore the Fardagafoss Hiking Trail.

Read more: What to do in Seyðisfjörður | The Charming Village in East Iceland

We opted to have lunch again at the Pool Grill, then headed back to our room. Peg spent the afternoon reading and I decided to go back to the Nordic Spa and the timing couldn’t have been better. The first time I saw the spa was early evening, just before dinner and the pool looked like old people soup. This time there was no one in the hot tub, so I tossed my towel and robe on one of the loungers and simmered for about fifteen minutes. From there I went to the steam room, then the snow room. There was still no snow, just the pile of slush in the corner.

Afternoon Tea
Back from the spa, Peg suggested we attend the daily “afternoon tea” in the lanai off the pool deck.  A British tradition, afternoon tea was traditionally held around 4pm, when the idle rich indulged in finger sandwiches, scones and pastries along with their tea. High tea was a hardier meal the working class consumed after work. (Remember Roger Daltry in a tub of Heinz Baked Beans: “What’s for tea?”)

We sat on comfortable, low-backed seats with a grand view of the harbor and grey skies. One of the waitstaff brough a plate of scones followed by a three-tiered tray of finger sandwiches and pastries. Peg ordered a pot of tea, and I decided to try out a shot of Linie (“Lee-nee”) a Norwegian aquavit made from potato, flavored with caraway dill, fennel, anise and coriander. It is then matured at sea, in Oloroso sherry casks, during a round-trip voyage between Norway and Australia while crossing the “LINE” (equator) twice. It was…interesting, not as vile as Malört. I thought I’d avail myself of Iceland’s Black Death (Brennivin) before we left.

The remainder of the trip was disappointing; I’ll address that in the next post

Photo Credits
Featured image: Seyðisfjörður town view, Kasa Fue September 2019, 10:19:01. Licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International license.
Seyðisfjarðarkirkja and the Rainbow Walk Saifunny 26 July 2018. Licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International 
Tvísöngur, listaverk eftir Lukas Kühne frá árinu 2012, staðsett á Seyðisfirði. Cinquantecinq  6 July 2020. Licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International 
All other photos mine

Day 3 – Ísafjörður and Bolungarvík

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!)

Óshólar Lighthouse
Ósvör Maritime Museum. Diego Delso, delso.photo, License CC BY-SA 2014
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.)

Read Andrew Slough’s colorful account of Easter in the Westfjords here:  Iceland: Skiing Isafjördur’s Chutes.

Next port of call: Akureyri. The “Capital of the North,” the Botanical Gardens, and a grand view of the town from their ski-resort.

Featured Image: Hansueli Krapf, 2002. Licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International license. All other pictures are mine except where noted, and are used under the Creative Commons Share Alike public license. Click here for details: CC BY-SA.