DAY 1: Of Monsters and Men (Westfjords - North)
Drangsnes
With a population of just 67 folks as of the 2011 census, the town of Drangsnes needs just two more people to achieve the status of “nice.” The word “folks” is to be taken in the literal sense, with the town being so far removed from civilization (but don’t worry, even the most “backward” Icelanders are more forwards than the average tourist from a “civilized” country, so no need to worry about getting chainsawed by backcountry folk other than being “chainsawed” by kindness and hospitality). The village is named after a group of three giant troll women (some say there are no troll women), who tried to drag Westfjords away from mainland Iceland hence the distinctive shape (there’s probably a geological explanation for this). You can see one of the troll women in her final resting place, Kerling Stone (there’s definitely a geological explanation for this) near the town swimming pool. but save your aquatic quota (as if there was such a thing) for the Drangsnes Hot Pots, a trio of natural springs along the shore, overlooking the Atlantic inlet. You can’t see them from the road as they’re below road level but you’ll find them across from a little white changing house (as if you needed a private place to change into the nude). The pools are kept at varied temperatures - at cold, warm, and hot - and are pretty clean considering they’re natural so you have no excuse to miss out on an epic combo of relaxing with views. Don’t stay in the hot one for long or you’ll veer closer to the Chinese definition of “hot pot” - only then might the villagers eat you.
Suggested duration: 60 minutes. Visit www.westfjords.is for more information.
bonus: Grimsey island
Not to be confused with Grimsey, the same-named island north of Akureyri (there ain’t no room in this country for the both of us) Grimsey Island is said to have formed as the result of the above-mentioned troll women, who tried to drag Westfjords away from the rest of Iceland, but ended up angrily hurling chunks of land into the sea to form this island (it was just that time of the month). In the early 20th century, Grimsey functioned as a fox farm, which wasn’t as cuddly as it sounds as the foxes were bred and killed for their pelt. While you won’t find many foxes here now (you didn’t expect them to stick around after the Fox Holocaust did you?) Grimsey happens to be a puffin paradise, with around 80-90 thousand of them living on the island. It’s only a ten minute boat ride but keep your visit short in case the puffins decide to enact revenge for their fox brethren and go all Alfred Hitchcock on your ass. You’re near enough to the mainland to get some spectacular views of the fjords but far enough that no one can hear you scream.
Suggested duration: 2-3 hours. Visit www.westfjords.is for more information.
Bonus: icelandic sorcery & witchcraft
Dedicated to the history of sorcery and witchcraft in Iceland, this museum, opened in 2000, has many exhibits that are “unique” to say the least. You can see a real Icelandic grimoire, a witch textbook (bought used online and then returned after the semester no doubt) that taught entry-level witches how to cast spells and summon up some demonic shit (you didn’t think witches knew spells by heart, did you? this is like Stack Overflow but for witches, faking their way to that six-figure salary, or in that time, basic human provisions). You can see a “real” Tilberi, a creature made from recently deceased human rib bones, wrapped in wool then brought to life by the witch sticking it between her breasts for three weeks, then pouring communion wine on it for three Sundays in a row, thus giving it life (never underestimate the power of boobs and alcohol to get a rise out of little men). Then, it was sent to suckle a neighboring cow dry of milk (they could’ve tried just asking to borrow some milk though maybe that’s just not witchy enough and doesn’t warrant the mischievous cackling). The milk was then brought back to the witch by the Tilberi, who’s said to have said “full belly, mummy” or “churn up the lid mummy” (because apparently the foul creature was no different than a well mannered English orphan) who then vomited the milk to a rancid butter (goes very well with a spot of expired jam on a molded scone). You can also view some magical staves, or spell carvings, used to enhance all aspects of life, from the general “for fertility” and “for happiness” (precursors to IVF and SSRI’s, respectively, and something that may be peddled by wellness brand Goop in the near future) to the oddly specific “to prevent barrel leaks” (it was an epidemic back then). Some spells were defensive in nature, like “to ward off evil” or “to ward off witches” (without nary a hint of self awareness) and also “to protect against thieves” and “to protect against foxes” (no longer really an issue post-Fox Holocaust), where others were more on the offensive side, like “to kill an enemy’s cattle” (what did the cattle ever do to you?) “to make enemies afraid” and “prevail in battle” or rather specifically “prevail in Icelandic wrestling” (pre-steroids, though they always eventually fell apart on the international circuit). Not all battles needing a boost were bloody as evidenced by “to prosper in trade,” or “to win in court,” though at the end of the day, if spells proved insufficient, you could always just “summon a demon” to really start some shit. Of course, even something beautiful like magic just has to ruined by “nice guys,” as evidenced by “to dream of unfulfilled desires” and “to get a girl” (did you try talking to her?). And finally, if you were wondering whether the butter served to you is fresh or vomited by a Tilberi, there’s a spell for that too. Last but certainly not least on display at this museum is a pair of Nabrok, or necro-pants, fashioned from the skin of a dead person, believed to provide the wearer with an endless supply of money (hold up, did you just say pants made by the skin of a dead man?) Thankfully, it’s just a replica, even though its frighteningly realistic, with pubic hair, decaying genitals and all. You’ll be happy to learn that witches could only custom make these pants with the express permission of the man whose skin they are flaying and only after they have already died from natural causes (so if anything, it’s just being resourceful, you tell yourself to justify your sick fetishes). Also, said practice probably never existed so you can rest easy but honestly if you’re living month to month without any savings, the idea of flesh-made pants that generates an endless supply of money doesn’t sound that bad at all (I’d wear them - passive income FTW). And while they’re not the best looking pants, we’ve all seen worse things on the fashion circuit. Pair with an Icelandic sweater and you’re good to go.
Suggested duration: 60 minutes. Visit www.galdrasyning.is for opening times and more information.
arctic fox center
A non-profit exhibition and research facility, the Arctic Fox Center is wholly devoted to studying and teaching all there is to know about vulpes lagopus, the only native terrestrial mammal in Iceland (elves are not mammals, nor are they real). Of course, none of us would be here if we didn’t get to see and pet these cute little bastards in person though an important caveat - you can see the live ones but you can only pet the taxidermy ones to see what their fur feels like, totally not creepy at all. (mommy, why isn’t the fox moving?) But since you’re here, you might as well learn a few things about the cuter Arctic variant to the thing that you’d generally be creeped out by if it suddenly appeared in your yard, such as the thousand year “war” waged between man and fox since the settlement of Iceland, which technically makes these foxes prisoners of war, but don’t worry, they’re treated well, that is until the center shuts down for the day (that’s when the “researchers” waterboard the foxes to get more info on the whereabouts of Foxy bin Laden). In sum, it’s a very one-sided war but foxes are pretty cunning so they might just be playing a very long game.
Suggested duration: 60 minutes. Visit www.melrakki.is for opening times and more information.
isafjordur
With around 2600 people, Isafjordur is the largest settlement in the Westfjords and the closest thing to a capital city in the region (“you call this a capital,” snicker three urbanite goons who are unknowingly doomed to perish under the elements). First settled in the 9th century, it wasn’t mentioned again until the 16th century, as a place where witches were arrested and punished (everyone else was doing it!). Said witches were banished to nearby Hornstrandir, a massive, remote peninsula, and never heard from again so it’s safe to say Hornstrandir is haunted (phew! good thing we’re not going there… what’s that? we’re going there tomorrow? ok) The economy didn’t really take off until the mid-19th century with the rise of saltwater fishing but you know what they say: live by salt water fishing, die by saltwater fishing. Okay so maybe they don’t say that, but that’s what happened here and workers left en mass, but the town would soon be saved by a dramatic rise in tourists, drawn to remoteness of Hornstrandir, now a national park (and they were never heard from again). There’s not much in terms of activities beyond the Westfjords History Museum, but it’s a nice town to rest, have a hearty dinner, and soak in the stunning scenery on the last night before you’re banished to Hornstrandir.
Visit www.westfjords.is for more information.
STAY THE NIGHT near: isafjordur
DAY 2: Horn-stranded (Hornstrandir Nature Reserve)
Hornstrandir nature reserve
The northwestern-most region of Iceland, Hornstrandir has over 2000 square miles of untapped wilderness (suffice to say, you’d tap that). The earliest settlers relied mostly on hunting and fishing to feed themselves as the uneven terrain made it hard to farm (and no there was no vegan option). The settlers also lived far apart and moved quite frequently depending on their food source (will travel for pizza) so they barely saw one another, especially during winter when they were forced to hibernate to wait out the cold (and you thought you had no social life? talk about major FOMO). The population scarcity tended to attract the outlaw type (why do I always attract bad men?) who were trying to escape their death sentence by either living off the grid, or hitching a ride on a ship bound to Greenland (not much going on there either, so basically a death sentence in itself… death by FOMO). Officially turned into a natural reserve in 1975, Hornstrandir hasn’t lost that remote feeling (“oh that remote feeling”), as it’s only accessible via tour which involves a three hour boat ride (“a three hour tour, a three hour tour” - and you know how that turned out) and the return boat only comes once at night - if you miss it, you’re stranded on Hornstrandir for three days (“it’ll be like Gilligan’s Island,” you’ll joke to cheer yourself up after missing the boat, right before the night falls, when you get mauled to death in your sleep by a pack of rabid foxes). Tour boats and passenger space are both limited in number as well, so at any time there are less than 100 other people in the entire reserve, giving the experience a very Hunger Games vibe (but don’t worry, snacks are usually included). Take note that the boats are small, and suffice to say rocky, so best not to fill up on breakfast before the voyage (but if you must eat, eat porridge so that what comes out looks exactly as it did when it went in). If you can manage the three hour, vomit covered cruise, then the three hour, mostly uphill, sweat and tears-covered hike, you’ll be treated to the unmistakable gem of Hornstrandir, Hornbjarg, the second largest birdcliff of the Westfjords, one of the biggest in all of Europe, if you can see it that is - it's so high up that it’s usually covered in a dense fog (don’t get upset if you came all this way and nature didn’t show up, nature’s kind of a dick). Regardless, as you approach the cliff, as you’ll be instructed, approach in a prone crawling position - the sudden drop may induce vertigo; there’s no fence to prevent you from falling. If you haven’t plummeted to your doom and the clouds open up, you’ll have a perfect vertical view of the waves crashing far below and birds mating along the cliffside (that feeling when you realize even birds are having more sex than you). Besides the puffins and foxes, there aren’t unique animals to see but it’s not all bad - in fact, it’s the lack of grazing animals (looking at you sheep) that allows the 260 species of plants and wildflowers to grow tall - and photogenic.
Average duration: 9-10 hours. Visit www.westfjords.is for more information.
STAY THE NIGHT near: isafjordur
DAY 3: Divorced from Reality (Westfjords - South)
dynjandi
If you’re looking for peace and quiet, you’ll have to settle just for peace at the “thunderous” waterfall. It’s so loud that one of the farmer’s wives who once lived here would complain daily about the noise (while said farmer was probably more annoyed about the noise of his wife complaining). The farms have since been abandoned, as you can see from the various ruins around the site, but you’ll probably be too blown away upon approaching the site to notice anything other than “the jewel of the Westfjords,” the majestic series of seven cascading waterfalls totaling over 300 feet in height, capped by the biggest of the seven, Dynjandi, that some have compared to the shape of a bridal veil (serving as a daily reminder to the above farmer that marrying his ungrateful wife was a terrible mistake). The noise is an easier pill to swallow if you’re just here for a visit and the beauty of the surroundings will undoubtedly bring you closer to your travel companion or even to yourself if you’re traveling alone (you tell yourself to keep you from crying yourself to sleep at night). It’s a short 15 minute hike to the top for an equally epic view of the way you came up.
Suggested duration: 60-90 minutes. Visit www.westfjords.is for more information.
bonus: icelandic sea monster museum
Like an aquarium for sea creatures that don’t exist, the Skimslasetur obviously doesn’t have any live specimens on display, as sea monsters are far too elusive to be captured live or even on video (likely story) so you will just have to use your imagination (this is where all those years of watching Barney instead of learning life relevant skills will finally pay off). Fortunately there’s a large deal of material to work with, from first-hand (probably drunken) accounts, illustrations (also probably drunken), and a comprehensive interactive exhibit (probably good to have a few drinks before to ensure maximum believability). Once it’s over, you might even be convinced that there are actually monsters in the sea (alcohol is one hell of a drug) in which case the region you’re in, Arnafjordur, is “the most active sea monster region on earth,” so bring a shotgun? If you don’t find anything, you can just take it out on Barney.
Suggested duration: 60 minutes. Visit www.skrimsli.is for opening times and more information.
bonus: hellulaug
Among the various pools in the Vatnsfjordur region you’re likely to be most impressed by the surroundings of Hellalaug, a natural geothermal bath with a dramatic view of the fjord, along with an unprompted view of a nude elderly European couple. Before you remind yourself that this is Europe and anything goes (like kissing your children on the lips - yuck), Iceland actually has its own set of standards, and bathing in the nude is not one of them (at least someone has some standards). Although the pool meets certain cleanliness standards, please do your part to keep it clean of contaminants, including perfumes, hair dye and nude old Europeans.
Suggested duration: 30-60 minutes. Visit www.westfjords.is for more information.
gardar ba 64
who
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where
why
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As you drive further west into the depths of the Westfjords, you’ll come across an old whaling ship that was declared unfit for duty and intentionally grounded in 1981 (you can sit in the corner now, and think about what you’ve done). It’s safe to say it won’t hit the waters again, but this ship has found a second life as an Instagram influencer’s wet dream, practically asking to be photographed. There are no signs telling you not to explore the hull and deck of the ship so make yourself at home (can I get you a glass of fresh squeezed tetanus?). If you’re into abandoned things (you probably have unresolved abandonment issues), there’s two more boats and a US Navy plane at nearby Hnjotur Museum; it’s not fit for flight other than flights of fancy (and even then, is bound to crash).
Suggested duration: 30-60 minutes.
raudisandur (AWD REQUIRED)
The “Red Sand Beach” is not exactly red but it’s close enough. What makes it stand out is its vastness and almost complete lack of tourists, compared to the likes of Black Sand Beach. Raudisandur also affords you the opportunity to see sheep, puffins, seals and whales, the four horseman of Icelandic coastal wildlife, in proximity of one another. It’s especially rare to see whales so close to the shore without them being beached, not that their suffering would stop you from taking smiling selfies
In Icelandic History: There aren’t so many murders in Iceland as beautiful scenery is the perfect antidote for murderous thoughts, but one of the few murders happened here in the early 1800’s. Two farmers lived the perfect life with their wives on the beach until one farmer had an affair with the other’s wife. It’s kind of hard to get away with adultery in a village of four, so the couple decided to kill their spouses, adding injury to insult. The man was later executed while the woman died in prison; they all lived happily after.
Suggested duration: 2 hours. Visit www.westfjords.is for more information.
latrabjarg
Europe’s tallest bird-cliff and westernmost point of Iceland stands almost 1500 feet tall and is home to a massive colony of over one million puffins. You can walk up to ten miles along Latrabjarg which is actually comprised of four different bird cliffs, ending on Keflavikurbjarg Cliff for a puffin eye view of Raudisandur, or Red Sand Beach. The further you go the more remote it is but if you’re limited on time or fitness, views are good from the start. Stick to the path; if the territorial puffins don’t kill you, the fall will.
In Icelandic History: If you extend the hike you’ll pass a memorial to 15 sailors stuck at the bottom of the cliff, rescued by locals using a string made of eggshells, somehow. There’s a documentary about it at Hnjotur Museum, by the Gardar BA 64 shipwreck. When this documentary was filming, another ship crashed into the same spot, allowing for a speedy recovery and more realistic footage. Considering the remoteness, both crews were fortunate to not have perished, or worse - forced to eat puffins to survive.
In Popular Culture: Gordon Ramsay, on the other hand, has no qualms about eating puffins. In a now famous clip of him puffin-hunting on Latrabjarg, a puffin mauls him in the face. In the puffin’s defense, Gordon Ramsay has a very maul-able face, plus he had it coming for a long time now. The puffin still gets BBQ-ed in the end but let that serve as a reminder to keep some distance.
Average duration: 90 minutes. Visit www.westfjords.is for more information.