Awake by 0900 we eat breakfast in the hostel before leaving Grundarfjodur around 1000. Traveling along highway 54 on the coast of the western fjords we cross bridges stretching over hidden crescents of sea. It is bright; and the sparse clouds mirror the patches of snow on the sharp edges of the mountains. We arrive at Bjarnarhofn at 1120. The small collection of buildings lie amongst a valley of sheep-filled pastures bordered by fjordic mountains and a sea-ravaged cliffside to the north.
Saturday, May 21, 2016
Hiking
May 17
Awake by 0900 we eat breakfast in the hostel before leaving Grundarfjodur around 1000. Traveling along highway 54 on the coast of the western fjords we cross bridges stretching over hidden crescents of sea. It is bright; and the sparse clouds mirror the patches of snow on the sharp edges of the mountains. We arrive at Bjarnarhofn at 1120. The small collection of buildings lie amongst a valley of sheep-filled pastures bordered by fjordic mountains and a sea-ravaged cliffside to the north.
The primary attraction here is the Shark Museum where we're enlightened on the production of Greenland shark meat through firsthand taste testing and cheesy tour guide jokes. A brief exploration of the premises followed the tour and included feeding farmbirds by hand and observing an open air shed for drying the shark meat. An elderly Icelander passed on knowledge of the Hidden People -- local folklore that embodies Iceland's cloudy mysticism. Superstitious Islanders believe that this invisible culture of elves is the source of unexplainable phenomena and that they occasionally reward mortals for their cooperation. In one story a pregnant Hidden woman requires assistance from a human one. The woman complies in a somnambulatory state and awakens the next morning with blood on her hands, snow on her boots, and a candlestick at her bedside as compensation.
Back in Grundarfjordur we eat lunch at RuBen at 1400 and stroll back to the hostel afterwards for some downtime. Just before 1700 we embark on a hike with an undetermined final destination into the mountains behind the town. The sun is low in the sky and its angular descent is slow as if time itself is chilled by Iceland's saturnine breath. Cresting the hill above town reveals a vast marshy valley, its golden blanket of grass split by a snowmelt river. Behind us massive mountains, like ancient stone monoliths, rest at the sea edge and dozing Grundarfjordur is lit by their silhouetted alpenglow.
The river leads us to its headwaters at the foot of snowcapped peaks where several waterfalls gush from rocky crevices. We ascend the mountain for more group pictures.
Awake by 0900 we eat breakfast in the hostel before leaving Grundarfjodur around 1000. Traveling along highway 54 on the coast of the western fjords we cross bridges stretching over hidden crescents of sea. It is bright; and the sparse clouds mirror the patches of snow on the sharp edges of the mountains. We arrive at Bjarnarhofn at 1120. The small collection of buildings lie amongst a valley of sheep-filled pastures bordered by fjordic mountains and a sea-ravaged cliffside to the north.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Hello Nate,
ReplyDeleteSuch an intriguing well written, documented and photographed blog of your journey in Iceland.
I enjoyed every word of it as I have read it several times only because of my own ignorance of the incredible beauty of the Country of Iceland and I wanted to see the photos over and over as well as your well written words. I found it extremely interesting and the photos to be beyond beautiful. Masterful writing and photographing your journey seems to be your niche in life, it just couldn't have been any better.
Thank you very much for sharing, if you have any other blogs of other places that you have visited I would sure enjoy reading and seeing them.
Safe travels always and thank you once again for sharing your journey, I thoroughly enjoyed it,
Uncle Mike