Revisiting the Past

The Westfjords are beautiful.

As Madison is wrapped in a layer of snow today I bring to you a short tale of one of our adventures from this past summer, a story that has been waiting months to be told...

Up close and personal with puffins.

As part of our research we were visiting lakes in the west of Iceland, looking specifically for more midge lakes. As we drove towards the setting sun from Mývatn leaving sticky traps in our wake we found ourselves at the gate to the fabled Westfjords, the last major part of Iceland that none of us had ever seen. Even before we departed home base we had decided to take a few days off to explore the oldest part of the island.

Taking a peek.

After setting up our last transects we turned north leaving the relative comfort of the ring road behind us. It didn't take too long before we were climbing steep, winding gravel roads as rain bursts poured down upon us. We were travelling in convoy with the Pajero and Corolla snaking our way up and down the fjords along the south coast facing Breiðafjörður. Our ultimate goal was a campground just east of Látrabjarg, the tallest and some say largest bird cliffs in the North Atlantic. After making camp we drove the last few precarious kilometers to the westernmost tip of (political) Europe. There was only one other small group of photographers who didn't venture much past the tiny parking lot leaving us to enjoy the cliffs, midnight sun, puffins, razorbills, guillemonts, and all the other cliff denizens all to ourselves.

Playing in the surf.

The next morning we broke camp after spending an hour down on the beach. The Hoekmans did not come to the bird cliffs with us "big kids" the night before and they decided that they were going to go while the rest of us (Page, Kyle, Maddy, Hilary, and I) were going to make a break forDynjandi and later the island Flatey in the middle of Breiðafjörður to spend the night. This took a fair bit of driving, but the vistas were spectacular and at one point we even saw a whale from the road. Boarding the ferry to Flatey we communicated our desire to send the Pajero all the way through while we would jump off at the island. Obviously the boat workers and I were on different pages...

Ladies man.

... As I rushed to the top deck of the ferry I could see new people on board and feel the boat moving. When I reached topside I asked if we were casting off to which they replied "yes." I immediately proclaimed that we had been waiting for someone to let us into our car (that part was lost in translation at the dock) because our equipment for staying the night was in there. After a quick communication with the captain the dock hand shouted "You have two minutes!!" and ran to the hold of the ferry to help us get our things. He was literally tossing us out of one of the loading doors of the ferry within seconds. The people on the ferry had a good laugh, but we were left with no food for the night!

The wayfarers.

After setting up our tents in what I believe to be the only campground on the island we went looking for food, finding it at the local hotel. Talk about "island prices"! The only grub we could find was a full course meal for nearly $90! After convincing ourselves that it was a small price to pay for a once in a lifetime experience we took the plunge, and I have to say that we were greatly surprised at the quality and I think that they were surprised that such obviously out of place 20-somethings who looked like total cheapskates ante'd up to their culinary challenge.

On the ferry to shore.

It was a cold and windy night we spent on the little island. Fortunately that was followed by a beautiful Icelandic summer day during which we explored the little island. By the time we boarded the ferry for the mainland (finding our food and water bottles right where we left them!!) we had pretty much seen every square meter of the island. We landed on Snæfellsnes, found the Pajero, and in no time were rolling down Route 1 headed for Mývatn.

Bless!

Jamin