Luckily we boarded an
already-waiting ship’s tender at 1:45 PM.
On the pier, our tour bus departed Ísafjördur harbor at 2:20 PM, with tour
guide Karla and driver Sveinni. Although
Karla spent her early life in Germany, she later lived in Canada. To us, her language sounded like American
English. Her degree is in forestry. Since 2000, Iceland has made a limited effort
to reforest, but some Icelanders don’t like this because (1) sheep are
restricted from these areas; and (2) trees can block the view for
tourists. Although we missed seeing
trees, we also sometimes could not see distant cliffs because some trees
blocked our view.
Ísafjördur,
the westernmost city in Europe, is located almost on the northwest corner of
Iceland and is the “unofficial capital of the western fiords.” In fact, Ísafjördur is the last stop for
ships headed to Greenland or North America.
The first settlement here was on a sandbar in 1200. Since the water is not terribly cold, the
fiord does not freeze. Although whales
and wildlife abound, both fishing and the population are decreasing.
After
being driven through a long tunnel of almost 6 km, we continued to Osvör Museum
and Fisherman´s Hut. Definitely a tiny
outdoor museum, the curator, dressed in traditional Icelandic fishing garments
and standing beside a boat near the water, gave us a picture of how local
fishermen made their living off the seas during the beginning of the 20th
century. Dressed in leather clothes that
had been waterproofed with fish liver oil and mittens that each had two thumbs,
he definitely looked realistic. A nearby
hut by the sea was used as the fisherman’s house, and another nearby hut (with
wire over it to keep out birds) was for drying of fish.
 |
| Osvor Museum Curator |
Arctic
terns nest in this part of Iceland, but are now leaving to fly south to
Antarctica for summer there (flying 40,000 miles!). Also, fish meal is made here. Although the smell is bad at the fish meal
plant, the jobs have meant money. The
story is told that a young man came to visit his girlfriend’s parents, wearing
his stinky work clothes; they smelled him and said, “OK, you make enough money;
you can marry our daughter!”
Although
people have been at the mercy of avalanches from the snow falling on their
villages, in recent years some walls have been built to prevent this from
happening.
We
returned to Bolungarvik, a quiet village that lies on a bay surrounded by snow-tipped
mountains. Here, we stopped at the small
pastoral (Lutheran) church. Named
Hólskirkja, "the church on the hill," it sits in an evergreen valley of
grass, moss, and at some times of the year (but not now), Arctic poppies. Designed by Rögnvaldur Ólafsson, named
Iceland's first architect, the church was built in Norway and transported to
Iceland over 100 years ago and was placed on the same spot on the hill where
churches have stood since the year 1200.
Although
it lacked expensive features, there was some decorative painting on the
walls. Two girls sang three traditional
songs to us. Outside was a cemetery that
was interesting at least to Sally, who has visited many cemeteries for
genealogy. Some plots had a fence or
stone wall around them; inside one of the stone walls, the ground was strewn
with sea shells of about 2 inches in diameter.
At
a glacier-fed stream, our bus stopped and we each drank cold, pure water from
the stream. Sally climbed carefully down
the small embankment to dip out her own glassful of water, and also picked some
tiny, wild blueberries growing beside the stream, which she shared with Jesse.
Soon,
we passed the “troll’s seat,” a big, curved area cut by a glacier; indeed, it didn’t
take much imagination to see that someone with a very large butt might have sat
in that spot in order to soak his/her feet in a stream below.
A
highlight of this tour was Seljalandsdalur, a glaciated river valley with
gentle slopes and the stunning waterfall Seljadalsfoss. By then, the sun’s brightness behind the
waterfall made the foreground (the waterfall) appear dark in photos, for which
we had no remedy.
The
final stop of our day’s tour was at the Maritime Museum located in
Nedstikaupstadur. Unless a person is
very interested in fishing, this small museum probably is probably not of great
interest. While there, we were
encouraged to enjoy a snack of “Icelandic refreshments” (dried fish, tiny
squares of shark, and liquor). When
given the opportunity, Jesse usually takes two of any treat; however, with the
shark squares, he regretted having taken two!
They burned the mouth like fire.
The liquor was also like liquid fire.
Only the dried fish was palatable, though extremely dry and
stringy. When we re-boarded the bus, one
fellow passenger drew laughter when he commented that he could now skip dinner
since the fish had satisfied his appetite.
Back
in Ísafjördur, we boarded a tender at 5:30 to return to the ship. A sign at the pier indicated that this area
was restricted to tourist traffic through September 15. Our ship was one of the last (if not the
last) of the season to stop here before Iceland’s long winter.
Since Gail and Jim chose to eat
elsewhere, for dinner we joined another couple at a table for four: Lorraine and Serge, of near Quebec,
Canada. Although English is a second
language for them, we managed interesting conversation, especially with
Lorraine. She is particularly well
traveled; she and another lady friend drove many miles throughout the American
West, visiting all of our western national parks.
After
dinner, we danced to Alphard Duo in the Wheelhouse Bar before retiring for the
night. At 11:00, we received a telephone
call again that Northern Lights had been sighted on both sides of the
ship. We looked only from our balcony;
although we could see a little lightness in the sky toward the back, it was not
as bright as last night and there were too many clouds to see much at all.
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