Gathering Sheep in Árneshreppur

     This year I have been funded by Arts Council England and the British Council to make two 10-day research trips to Iceland. My first trip is chronicled in my post Nooks and Crannies from April 2016. This post is about my second trip, which was to help gather sheep in Árneshreppur during a week in September 2016.

The wrapper from a bar of locally-marketed chocolate

At some times of the year, flying in is the only way to access Árneshreppur as parts of the roads may be blocked by snow or dangerously icy

Two friendly, highly-skilled pilots who fly into the small airport at Gjögur, which has a challenging approach around steep mountains and a short runway

     I made a lot of mistakes during my sheep gathering. At times, in the intensity of herding many sheep home, it came down to a person and a sheep and whether or not that person could entice that sheep to go a particular way. I realised that the smallest sound from a person, the slightest gesture, can have a big impact on a sheep’s decision-making.

 At its best, sheep gathering is a sublime craft but this is only one part of the working life of a sheep farmer.

     Árneshreppur is a very remote community in the far north of Westfjords. Over winter only thirty people live there. In summertime there are more visitors and, during September, friends and family come to help gather the sheep. There are always many more sheep in Árneshreppur than people.

     The Árneshreppur sheep are very lucky creatures. By law they must be left to roam freely over summer and the land they have to explore, bound by fingers of high mountains that outline fjords, is stunningly beautiful and varied.

Can you spot any sheep still grazing up the steep mountainside? Every one of them must to be enticed to walk back down to its home farm before the onset of winter. To do this, a farmer and his sheepdog will climb above where a sheep is and talk/bark to gently encourage the sheep to descend the mountainface.

Pastures with an amazing view

Two sheep (lower left in picture) who are dwarfed by the incredible landscape

The sheep here have, under hoof, an array of delicious nibbles, including wild crowberries and Icelandic moss.

Árneshreppur, as I experienced it, is an idyllic place.

     But, I know that when winter bears down, the sun will not reach this community until February and I did feel a foreboding, narrowing sense of place when heavy fog descended in bad weather.

For their own safety, the sheep must all be gathered and kept inside byres or left to graze in fenced fields down by the farms over winter.

And when it comes to gathering up their sheep, nothing is too much trouble for the compassionate farmers of Árneshreppur.

A strong farmer carrying an exhausted, full-grown sheep on his back

 When sheep become frightened, they tend to climb higher. I witnessed and was a part of some extraordinary efforts to encourage every sheep and lamb off the mountains. In the week when I helped, there were only two sheep that we could not convince to join the herd and I know that the farmers will have gone back later to find them and transport them home in a trailer.

     I made my first mistake of this trip before I left England. To prepare for sheep gathering, I was graciously sponsored by Brian and Jackie, owners of the Cambridge Polo Club, to learn more about horseriding. During the weeks before my flight to Iceland, I bonded with their lovely horses Toby, Harriet, Nix and Bella as we practiced sitting and rising trots together. You may have heard that Icelandic sheep are gathered on horseback. I dreamt of bravely trotting over hills and lavascapes, my hair and the horse’s long mane tussling in wind as we deftly herded great flocks of sheep home.

     But, the farmers of Árneshreppur do it on foot! There are only two horses in the region and both are too old and unfit to be suitable for chasing sheep.

The only horses in Árneshreppur

     The rhythm of sheep gathering here involves a drive to the edge of a mountain, then a group climb on foot to the top.

During these climbs I discovered, as I was soaked in sweat, that Icelanders do not sweat – even the ones who claim to be unfit don’t sweat.

Can you spot the four people and one dog walking along the mountainside to look for sheep in this picture?

From the mountaintop, we would fan out and walk together along the mountain side, those with dogs staying high, those less able walking along the base of the mountain, on the track or by the beaches.

Our goal was to meet every sheep on the way and send it down to herd along the track to the nearest farmer’s fields.

Once there, in the farmhouse we would be served an incredibly delicious meal that had been made by the farmer’s wife while we were out gathering sheep.

These meals often featured lamb or sheep meat.

If it was tea time, the spread was a superb array of homemade cakes.

     And there you have one huge part of sheep farming, which, as a vegetarian, I had not seriously considered prior to my trip. The majority of the cute, woolly lambs that we gathered were soon be slaughtered.

An Árnes farmer with her sheep after a day of gathering

This reality was very difficult for me but I was not the only one in tears as the slaughterhouse truck drove away.

Where I stayed, the farmer had given every one of his sheep a name and could recognise and name each one by sight. All 350 of them!

     For me, this week in Árneshreppur was a life-changing experience.

I made firm friends and was heartily welcomed by the entire community.

I think, perhaps, that was because I didn’t go there to judge but to learn, to observe and mimic as best I could and to listen. Now I feel that the novel I am writing is not only about Icelanders but also for them, a vast and important difference.

     Engaging children with all aspects of farm life is crucial. In this way, hopefully some will grow up wanting to become sheep farmers themselves. The economy and viability of sheep farming in Árneshreppur, as with every rural community across Iceland, relies on there being enough farmers to share the big task of gathering up sheep each year.

Mothers bring the children to meet the herd after it has been gathered and is led towards the home fields.

The children help sort sheep in the pens and they come to see the slaughterhouse truck loaded up and driven away.

These two children came along to a holding area where lambs were herded into a slaughterhouse truck

Children in Árneshreppur eat lamb and they understand early in their lives what this means.

     When a family leaves this community, the loss is keenly felt at the school, at church, through less revenue at the shop, the café, the airport. Every farm needs to be a working farm to ensure that Árneshreppur continues to thrive.

     Recently, an Árnes farm was offered for sale. It was, in fact, the farm where I stayed.

This farm is at the heart of the community. From every window in the house, the view is superb.

 After 87 years of descendants working this land, the family decided to move to Reykjavík. For this last year of their sheep gathering, the entire extended family came to Árneshreppur to help.

Some family and friends from the farm where I stayed

Who knew that one farmhouse could hold so many airbeds and accommodate so many people at once?!

     Do you dream of becoming an integral part of such a community?

Do you have the will to work very hard and to benefit from the simple luxury of life in a spectacular setting?

If so, this is the chance of a lifetime. There is usually a farm or two in Árneshreppur that would be available to buy.

Let me know if you are interested and I can put you in touch with a person who can help. For somebody, there may be a dream to be realised.

I should also mention that, like everywhere in Iceland, Árneshreppur has an outdoor geothermally heated pool and hot tub : )