Westfjords

May 19

Tucked within the Arnafjordur the small seaport village of Bildudalur stirs in the early sun as men load trawlers in the harbor. At 0800 we watch as they prepare for a day of collecting seaweed from the ocean floor to be processed and used in animal feed and fertilizers. This industry dominates the town of approximately 200 with nothing else to boast save the Icelandic Sea Monster Museum, one restaurant, and our comfortable hostel. After morning the harbor before us lay in desuetude and the village remains as still and cold as the waters in the fjord. Only the ululating seabirds flying within the vast glacial valley contrast with the depauperate village as they sail nearly 400 meters overhead along the snowy ridge line.

We depart around 0900 after a light breakfast of yogurt, rye bread, and toast. Heading westward toward Latrabjarg our path takes us around the coastlines of two other fjords and past the town of Patreksfjordur. At 1100 we arrive at the sacred rock (Iceland's westernmost point) to behold the cliffs lifted by the constant  undercutting of winter waves. Razorbill auks and puffins take shelter on the steep walls while gulls soar in all directions. We watch puffins perform a "billing" ceremony that produces a soft clicking sound as they rub their colorful beaks together. Several harbor seals bask on distant seaweed-covered rocks and occasionally lift a flipper in lazy satisfaction.

At 1630 we return to Patreksfjordur for dinner at a small restaurant called Heimsendi, which means
 "apocalypse" in Icelandic. We wait for an employee to go shopping at the town grocery store to accommodate all twenty one of us. In a town of 750 the restaurants rarely encounter such large parties. Despite their capacity they provide us with the best meal of our journey thus far and afterwards we hop along the rocky coastline back to the bus.