Day 3: Rachael’s Version
Upon waking up, we found that our apartment actually had a lovely view of the fjord, invisible in the dark of night. After a quick breakfast we got on the road and continued our journey through the Westfjords. The scenery was absolutely stunning and we took advantage of a few well-placed viewpoints to snap some photos. We even stumbled upon some seals sunning themselves on the rocks! Unfortunately my camera isn't equipped for long-range photography, but we spent a long time watching them flop around in the sun.
On our way out of the Westfjords we stopped in Hólmavík to take in their very informative Museum of Icelandic Sorcery and Witchcraft. The Westfjords were the center of Icelandic witch trials back in the day, and the museum is quick to connect that to the fact that it was also the center of Icelandic wealth and commerce back in the day. That about matched what I learned about witchcraft back when I lived in Edinburgh, another well-known center of witch trials. Where money goes, sorcery follows, or vice-versa.
In any case, Icelandic witchcraft seems to involve a lot of pricking of fingers, feet, and nipples, the blood of plenty of virgins, and a connection to the sea. Multiple people were convicted of "calling down storms" over the years. The museum's most famous artifact is a pair of pants ostensibly made from a dead man's skinned legs and scrotum, ostensibly freely-given (or else it doesn't work). Supposedly if a witch wore them he (and in Iceland it was usually a 'he') would come into money, but if he didn't manage to pass them on before his death he would be eternally cursed with lice. The word is out on how being cursed with lice works when you're already dead.
Robin loved the tilberi, creatures created by witchcraft for the sole purpose of stealing milk from neighboring farm animals. My sympathies lay with those witches who were only doing what they had to do, fighting off ghosts, figuring out who had stolen from them, and the like. Apparently good intentions don't save you from becoming barbecue in early modern Iceland.
We grabbed our first Icelandic gas station hot dogs (not bad with fried onions and very mild Icelandic mustard) and made our way out of the Westfjords. I got it into my head that we needed to see a piece of rock named Hvítserkur ("White Shirt," from all the seagull poop covering it) and maybe some more seals on the Vatnsnes Peninsula, and we spent over an hour on the terrible washboard roads of that peninsula in order to snap some pictures. At the end of the road was said rock, a good number of distant seals, and our first black sand beach of the trip – and indeed ever, for all of us.
After our harrowing journey back to Route 1, we grabbed another gas station meal (lamb soup for me, like Campbell's Chunky vegetable but with more baby sheep) and made a quick stop at Viðimýrarkirkja, a turf church that a former president of Iceland declared the most beautiful extant example of ancient Icelandic architecture. The ancient Icelanders, you see, were well ahead of the curve on green roofs, being both cost-effective and resistant to the perpetually chilly weather of their island home. I think turf churches are gorgeous and I hope we can get closer to another before the end of our trip.
Finally we arrived in our final destination for the day, Akureyri, the capitol of the north. It's something of a hub for art, and is home to all sorts of cafés, restaurants, and galleries. We stayed in a room at a hostel, a situation I'm very used to but the others less so. As per usual for Nordic hostels (at least in my experience), it was very clean and comfortable, although its location at the center of town meant we had to deal with loud conversations beneath our window through a good part of the night.
Before heading off to bed we made a trip to a shop for some "traditional Icelandic soft ice cream," which is essentially soft serve. It is very good soft serve, though, with many, many available toppings, so we definitely recommend it. Despite the noise, we managed to get some rest before our next day on the road.