Iceland Day 6 – Westfjords, Ísafjörður Day 1

Sunday August 31, Tálknafjörður to Ísafjörður

The early morning at the secluded cabin on idyllic Tálknafjörður fjord was wonderfully peaceful, that peace amplified by the Chaffinches and Redwings flitting in and out of the trees all around. Ann had a rough night so I slept poorly as a result and getting started was difficult. Almost immediately on arriving at this cabin, we wished we could spend another night here. The prospect of leaving this cabin behind did not help motivate me to get going.

And yet leave we must, reluctantly or not. I made sandwiches for our lunch, toast for Ann's breakfast, and took our luggage out to the car where I turned it on to see if the 4WD warning from yesterday had disappeared. It had and was likely an overheating issue. The brutal Westfjords roads yesterday worked the transmission out hard for certain.

Our destination was the principal city in the Westfjords, Ísafjörður, where we would spend two nights. Today's principal sight was to be the massive Dyjandi waterfall, the most spectacular in the Westfjords, the jewel of the Westfjords. I had also noted a couple of other things to see along the way, if we felt so inclined. First up was a brief stop at Fossfjörður Waterfall, a charming little sheet of water falling into a tranquil pool before it makes its way into Fossfjörður, the westernmost of the Suðurfirðir, the Southern Fjords.

Fossfjörður Waterfall

A bit about Icelandic place names. Towns often take on the same name as the fjord on which they are built, such as Tálknafjörður. Fossfjörður is no different and applies to both the little area at the head of the fjord as well as the fjord itself. You may have noted that foss means waterfall so Fossfjörður means Waterfall Fjord and so the waterfall itself would be somewhat redundantly Fossfjörðurfoss. To add to the confusion, the farm at this location is called Foss. Make of it what you will, but I imagine a new Abbott and Costello routine called "Who's on Foss?"

Just a few meters from the waterfall in Fossfjörður, we stumbled on tremendously fun building that became one of the highlights of our trip. Along the bank of the Fossfjörður, an offshoot of the vast Arnarfjörður, sits the A-house, a tiny, nearly derelict abandoned barn or house standing proudly alone in a vast landscape. This find was so totally unexpected that we stopped to take photos and found inside bags of wool, a saddle, and arty seating areas. A sign on the door invited us inside, "Welcome! Please close the door when you leave, so the sheep don't go inside and poop on the floor."

The A-House on Fossfjörður

"Welcome! Please close the door when you leave, so the sheep don't go inside and poop on the floor."

Outside the A-House, a Set of Tiny Houses

Called an Áfhól or Elf Hall, These Tiny Houses are Homes for the Huldufólk, the Elves

An essential part of a visit to the Westfjords is winding in and out of the non-stop fjords and stopping to take in the austere beauty that stretches to the horizon. The clouds moving in and about make the scenes moody at times and at others, allow sunshine to light up far away hillsides.

The only blemish to my eye were the salmon pens, especially in the Dýrafjörður near Þingeyri. Those farmed salmon escape their pens. What happens to wild breeding stocks when this happens? Many Icelanders have similar concerns as well as some dismay that many of the fish farming operations are controlled by Norwegians exploiting the natural bounty of Iceland.

Geirþjófsfjörður

At a Photo Stop, Dwarf Birch, Fjalldrapi, Betula nana

Fall Color on Mountain Sorrel, Ólafssúra, Oxyria dygina

As we neared the great Dynjandi, we stopped briefly at Kálfeyrarfoss, reputedly a hidden gem waterfall, but we found it hard to get perspective standing atop the fall and looking down. Just before the turn off into Dynjandi, the road was torn apart with heavy equipment moving every which way, some serious highway construction underway along the ridgeline off which the Dynjandisá River tumbled on its way down to creating the set of six waterfalls in the Dynjandi complex.

Dynjandisá River Above the Dynjandi Complex

From the parking area at the bottom of the hill next to the Arnarfjörður into which the river tumbles, a series of paved walkways and trails climbs the hillside past five smaller falls up to the massive cascade called Dynjandi or Fjallfoss. Dynjandi itself is without a doubt the prettiest bridal veil fall I have ever seen and it is definitely worth a stop here.

All Six Waterfalls

Lowest: Bæjarfoss

Hundafoss: Small But Pretty

Hrísvaðsfoss

Göngumannafoss

Strompgljúfrafoss and Dynjandi

Strompgljúfrafoss

Hæstahjallafoss Below Dynjandi

Strompgljúfrafoss and Hæstahjallafoss

Dynjandi, the Six-Tiered 100-Meter Bridal Veil Fall

Perspective: Look for Ann in the
Raspberry Jacket on Boulder Bottom Right

Dynjandi is a Deceptive Climb: Parking Lot Below

Autumn Hawkbit, Skarifífill, Scorzoneroides autumnalis

Blooming Mountain Sorrel, Ólafssúra, Oxyria dygina

More Fall Color: Arctic Willow, Grávíðir, Salix arctica

Before continuing our trip north to Ísafjörður, we sat in the parking lot eating sandwiches as tour bus after tour bus arrived, likely from a cruise ship docked in Ísafjörður. Forethought to make sandwiches is necessary in many places in Iceland but especially in the Westfjords where there are no stores and no restaurants for long stretches of road.

Westfjords: Sandwich It or Starve

On our way into Ísafjörður, just before the long bridge crossing of the Önundarfjörður, we stopped to see the Holtskirkja. Someone told me it was a great photo, but I could not find the perspective I wanted though you can get a feel for the simplicity of the red-roofed white church against the visual drama of the mountains.

Holtskirkja

Across the fjord bridge, we completed an Icelandic right of passage, our first one-lane tunnel experience. I was not expecting such a tunnel outside of North Iceland and it is extremely fortunate that I studied one-lane tunnel procedure before the trip. Imagine the problems if I entered the tunnel unawares.

Coming north on 60, 64 branches west to Flateyri, after which 60 enters a long tunnel, the first half of which is one-lane. Fortunately, we had the right of way so southbound traffic had to yield to us by turning into regularly spaced pullouts. Halfway through, route 65 branches west to Suðureyri. My mind was blown that one tunnel would branch off from another! This was good practice for Tröllaskagi which has several such tunnels.

I am kicking myself for not stopping in the photogenic little village of Flateyri on the way into town. All I can say is that we heard a beer calling our name. Needing to kill an hour before checking in to our apartment, we drove to the only brewery in the Westfjords, Dokkan Brugghús. We had their IPA and Mango IPA which were decent enough and the best beers so far in Iceland, though the mango was a bit over the top. The brewery is situated directly beside the cruise ship dock and a boatload of Germans was in town, many of them in the brewpub. We met a nice couple from Köln and chatted a while before rolling out.

Wanting to score some food for dinner, we drove to the Bónus which conveniently had Orkan gas pumps in the parking lot. We were able to kill both chore tasks in one stop. The was the biggest Bónus we have been in yet and bigger definitely means better selection. We got pasta, passata, capers, fresh basil, and ground beef for dinner.

From the store and gas station, it was a pluperfect clusterfuck trying to navigate to our room thanks to our GPS which consistently had us turn one street too early. Street signs seem to be non-existent to verify that we were on the correct street. While I examined the map in detail, Ann barged into wrong house on wrong street looking for our apartment.

By the time she returned, I had figured out what we needed to do to get to the correct place, complicated a bit by the maze of one-way streets. Checking in was a trying experience as the instructions were the weakest of all of the places we stayed in the course of three weeks. To top it off, our mobile Wi-Fi disconnected in the middle of trying to read the instructions. I was a bit frustrated; Annie was about nail spitting mad.

Once we gained entry, we found our apartment was more of a hostel experience, but with a spacious and nicely equipped kitchen. The kitchen aside, this was not our idea of a great abode for a two-night stay. After a bit of a struggle, I got the Wi-Fi rebooted and connected to it. Meanwhile, Ann was struggling to find an electric outlet to recharge her electronics; most electric outlets in this old house are old-school and not compatible with our modern European adapters. Annie sent a pointed note the owner.

I am not sure what she said, but it culminated in an appearance from the owner while Ann was struggling with the AV system to watch a DVD. Said system requires a PhD in gadgetry to figure out. With apologies to Alice and Arlo, if it takes twenty-seven eight-by-ten color glossy photographs with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one explaining what each one was to be used for, the system is probably unworkable, which the owner, now at hand kindly demonstrated by fiddling with it to no avail. Ultimately she refunded us a considerable amount of money in cash, enough to pay for our dinner the next evening.

With Apologies to Arlo

As the sky was darkening, I set about making dinner from the ingredients that we scrounged at the grocery. We were fortunate to find a bag of Garofalo tagliatelle from which I made a really first-rate sugo from butter, ground beef, crushed pepper flakes, capers, passata, and lots of fresh basil. Regardless of the circumstances, this was one of the finer sauces I have ever made.

Dinner Cooking Away

Tagliatelle con Sugo

After tidying up a bit, we climbed the rickety stairs in our long-in-the-tooth apartment to the bedroom. Each time I walked by the bathroom, I got a huge and obnoxious whiff of mildew. We really did not want to spend a second night there, but really, we had to make the best of it. We hoped that the rain showers that had set in earlier in the evening would abate by morning so that we could explore this cute town.