Alda Sigmundsdóttir
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The necro pants revisited
A while back I wrote a post about our visit to the Museum of Sorcery and Witchcraft, on the West Fjords, and posted a picture of their famous necro pants. I failed to elaborate on the necro pants legend in that post, but alluded to the fact that I would do so later. So here it comes. First of all: there is a reason why the Museum of Sorcery and Witchcraft is on the West Fjords. It’s because this was the site of Iceland’s witch hunts in the old days. The folks up there were a bit, shall we say, heavy on the paranoia. “They travelled to some pretty dark places, metaphysically speaking. For
On the enchanting, sometimes terrifying beauty of the West Fjords
If you have ever travelled to the West Fjords of Iceland you will know that it is an unbelievably beautiful region, partly because it is so unspoiled. It is unspoiled largely because it is so remote, because the roads aren't great in many places, and because the terrain is such that you have to drive vast distances to get where you want to go, along seemingly endless coastlines of fjords that cut deep into the landscape. Often those roads take you up on heaths or mountain passes that are not for the faint of heart ... I don't know for how much of our trip we were driving along roads that were
Day six: beautiful Rauðasandur and the westernmost part of Europe
It was the final day of our West Fjords adventure, and guess what happened. This: After five days of pretty exceptional weather, we woke up to rain and, most annoyingly, FOG. Over there, across the sea, you would normally see mountains. On that day, they were completely obscured. That threw a bit of a wrench in our plans. You see, we had planned to visit two of the most beautiful sites in the West Fjords – Rauðasandur sands, and the Látrabjarg bird cliff. However, given the weather and the fact that a visit there would not yield any good photographs to share with you all, we decided, af
Day five: paradise and waffles in the middle of nowhere
In which we barrel along on our road trip of the amazing West Fjords. Having spent half of Sunday in Ísafjörður we hit the road again, this time due south. We weren't headed far, only a couple of fjords down to Dýrafjörður - more specifically to Núpur, which for decades was a parsonage and also the site of the regional boarding school, but which is now part of the Farm Holidays collective. The building is owned by the state, but two brothers operate a guest house there during the summer, in the old school. Núpur has some well-known alumni, including Birgitta Jónsdóttir, MP for the Pirate
Day four: lovely Ísafjörður and some unexpected tangible history
We left off the last post where EPI and I were driving from Djúpavík to Ísafjörður, via Hólmavík. We arrived in Ísafjörður pretty late, the drive being quite a distance - all that threading of fjords in and out, back and forth. The area we drove through is known as Djúpið - "the deep" - because it's made up of the fjords bordering the long fjord known as Ísafjarðardjúp - literally "The ice fjord deep". It's very remote, there are only a handful of farms along the way and no towns. Across the "Djúp" you can see the northernmost part of the West Fjords, including the Drangajökull glac
Day three: more on the the enchantment of Djúpavík
Day 3 of our stupendous West Fjords excursion, ostensibly undertaken to distribute a book but really mostly just for having a fabulous time in amazing surroundings. We started the day in Djúpavík, a minuscule town in Strandir, most famous for its humongous abandoned herring factory. Djúpavík is a fascinating place. Its best-known residents are Eva and Ásbjörn who own and run Hótel Djúpavík, and who also own the big old factory by extension. They have lived there since the mid-1980s, came there from Reykjavík and completely fell for the place, and wound up living and raising their children
Day two: sublime pool, dramatic Djúpavík and a factory that defies all logic
Day 2 of our superexcellent West Fjords adventure: We woke up to the sound of birdsong in our lovely, compact cottage in Trékyllisvík. Got up and went for a run along the gravel road (the roads are pretty rudimentary around here), after which we drove the short distance to Krossnes for the express purpose of visiting the pool. That's because the Krossneslaug pool is AWESOME. It sits right on the shoreline, and when the tide is in and there is a wind the waves crash right over it. I was there once before, back in 1998 or thereabouts, and at that time the road was far worse than it is today a
Day one of our West Fjords tour: necro pants, scary landscapes and idyllic pastures
Day 1 - Thursday, June 12 Our plan was to leave Reykjavík early-ish to get to Strandir, on the West Fjords, as soon as possible. However, since we had to stop to pick up some booze necessary provisions on the way out, it was actually 12.30 pm by the time we were on our way. We drove more or less without stopping (excepting a short stop in Borgarfjörður to drop off some books at the Settlement Centre) all the way to Hólmavík, on the eastern part of the West Fjords. There we stopped at the Museum of Sorcery and Witchcraft a) because we were dying to see the necro pants b) because we wanted to
I'm exploring Iceland and you are cordially invited
I'm gearing up for the mother of all trips around Iceland this June and July. The plan is for me and EPI to travel the West Fjords first, up along the eastern coast , then veer off westward towards Ísafjörður, spend a day or two there, and then head back down the other side, stopping off at some stunning sites along the way. And believe me, there is no shortage of those. The West Fjords are among my absolute favourite places in Iceland - they are stark and rugged and sparsely populated and exquisitely beautiful. They totally get under your skin. So much, in fact, that a few years ago, a
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