Vestmannaeyjar archipelago

I’m writing this as we wend our way back towards NYC. We’re approaching Nova Scotia, and as I’m informed by the ‘flight data’ section of the video screen in the seat-back in front of me, we’re flying at a ground speed of 500 mph, with a headwind of 90 mph; we’re at 34,000 feet, and the air temperature outside is about -60°F. We enjoyed seeing Greenland pass below us almost an hour ago. Life in the fast lane, eh?  [Actually, I started this on the plane, but just couldn’t get it done there, nor in JFK after our visit with Rosy. I’m finishing it up now at Louisa’s kitchen table in Boulder.]

Continuing where I left off, we caught the 10 pm ferry to Heimaey, the largest, and only inhabited island in the archipelago. The island it only about 4 nautical miles off the coast of the mainland, and it takes a little more than a half hour to make the journey. I drove the van off the boat at almost 10:45, and we immediately made our way to the campsite. It’s located in a picturesque bowl that I would guess might be the remains of the original volcano that began the formation of the island.

After exploring the facilities a bit, paying the fee for our two-night stay, and finding a suitable spot to park the van, I suggested we hike up one of two steep that switchbacked up the far side of the bowl. Seeing evidence of a nice sunset over the sea between Heimaey and the mainland, we hustled up to the rim as best we could despite the extremely steep trail, and caught the tail-end of the sunset (which was at about 11:30 pm!)

After the slog back down, we did a little more exploring, including two replica viking stone houses that appear to sometimes be used as group campsites.

We woke the next morning to howling winds that never stopped for the remainder of our stay on the island. As has so often happened on this trip, it turned out to be a serendipitous decision that we chose to make that hike the previous night, even as late as it was, since the wind would have scared us away from the idea at any other time in our visit. Checking the weather, it was apparent that we would have significant rain as well by early afternoon, so we headed right out to do some outdoor activities.

First off, we drove around to the much less inhabited windward side of the island, just to get the ‘big picture’. The wind was blowing so hard there that it was difficult to even open the van doors!

From there, we headed back into town, and quickly stumbled onto one of the main sightseeing opportunities on Heimaey, which also happened to be the perfect precursor to the learning the astonishing story of the eruption of the Eldfell volcano in January of 1973. We had already read a little about the eruption, which lasted almost six months, and buried hundreds of homes and businesses; eventually increasing the size of the island by 20%. It was fascinating to walk through the area where the advancing lava eventually stopped, on top of which the islanders have erected signs that are almost like gravestones for many of the homes and other buildings that are buried 16 meters or more below the lava debris that remains.

We then drove to the brand new, state-of-the-art Eldfell museum, where one of the first homes to be buried by volcanic ‘tephra’ at the start of the eruption has been largely excavated. They’ve essentially built the museum up around this excavation, and then created many innovative and interactive exhibits that demonstrate both the scale of the disaster, and the amazingly innovative techniques that were attempted in an effort to stem the damage caused by the ever-advancing lava throughout the eruption.

For instance, a prominent geophysicist and volcanologist from elsewhere in Scandinavia came to study the eruption as it happened. He was the first to suggest that the few remaining townspeople pump a constant stream of seawater onto the leading edge of the lava flow on two fronts, in an effort to spare both the harbor entrance and more homes closer to the town center. After several months, the lava started to threaten closing off the mouth of Heimaey’s protected harbor, which would’ve been the death knell for their vibrant fishing industry. Thus, they decided to sacrifice homes and concentrate the water-spraying efforts on the harbor mouth. The effort was ultimately successful. In this screenshot from the Maps app, you can clearly see the extent of the lava flow, including just how close it came to closing off the harbor mouth.

By the time we exited the museum, the rain had settled it, and the wind continued to rage as well, so we went off to the Natural history museum/aquarium, where we found a wonderful little surprise:

We’d been hoping to see some puffins the whole trip, and had seen a few from a distance on the hike up above the campground Friday night, but this was an unexpected treat. Heimaey has developed an interesting tradition in recent decades, due to a troubling developement in the puffin’s evolution. Apparently, the pufflings leave their burrows every August, and would typically glide down to the sea to feed and grow. Unfortunately, the lights of the town have begun to attract the young birds, and since they can’t really fly yet, they’re confused and can fall prey to the islander’s dogs and cats. In response, the local population has started letting their children go out with cardboard boxes every night to gather up the vulnerable pufflings. They have started taking them to the museum to be weighed and counted, and then they’re taken down to the shore and released. Puffins are primary sea birds, capable of diving quite deep and for long periods of time, so they’re safest on the water. And Tóki’s story? He was found in September of one year, apparently having hatched out about six weeks later than normal, and was half the weight he should’ve been at that point. So it was decided that he’d be best kept at the nature center, where he’s been ever since. We learned all about him from a very helpful little girl of about 10 or 12 that was sheparding Tóki around the museum that day. It seemed like she was the daughter of the folks that ran the museum.

After that, we attempted to complete the trifecta by visiting the Folk museum, but it was closed for a private event. Instead, we went back to the communal hall at the campground to shower, have a cup of tea, and relax before dinner. The place was alive with activity, mostly due to 16 German students on a trip to the island, who were very jolly. We had a nice conversation with two of them; a great example of the side benefits of travel.

We enjoyed a nice seafood dinner at a restaurant in town, and then returned to the campground so I could finish a blog post. I think I already wrote about how crazy our last night in the van was that night, with the wind buffeting the van. More adventures to remember!

The next morning, as I also reported already, the ferry ride back to the mainland wasn’t as bad as we thought it might be, thankfully. I found another wall mural for the series I started in Reykjavik almost three weeks ago!

Once back on the mainland, the morning sun lent me one more opportunity to capture the spectacular fields of lupine:

From there, it was back to Reykjavik for shopping, on to the airport to drop off the van, then to our guesthouse to get prepared for our departure Monday morning (yesterday). I’ll publish this now, then post later about our stop in NYC with Rosy yesterday, and our visit in Boulder with Louisa today.

What an amazing trip we had. I feel like I need to ruminate a bit about all that we did and saw, and post again with some final thoughts. Who knows when I might get to that, but I’ll try!!

Thanks for following us everyone; I look forward to talking to all of you soon. XOX, John & Mallory.