Lögberg-Heimskringla - 03.10.2003, Blaðsíða 7

Lögberg-Heimskringla - 03.10.2003, Blaðsíða 7
Lögberg-Heimskringla • Föstudagur, 3 október 2003 • page 7 PHOTO BY OTTO CHRISTENSEN Relaxing in the Blue Lagoon, a welcome balm before heading home vents at Námafjall, an out-of- this world mountain of virtual- ly pure sulfur. Here again the hospitality was heartwarming and overwhelming. Sigrún Skarphéðinsdóttir, who lives just next door, came in next morning and treated our entire group to breakfast! We drove east again, skirt- ing the top of the Ódáðahraun barrens, and crossing the mighty river, Jökulsá á Fjöl- lum. This river rises in the great Vatnajökull glacier, spills north over Dettifoss, and emp- ties into the ocean at Öxar- fjörður to the north. A car flagged us down on this lonely moorland, and Aðalsteinn Aðalsteinsson and Sigrún Björgvinsdóttir came aboard to welcome us, and to act as tour guides down to Egilsstaðir. South and east we went, and turned in at a lonely place called Sænautasel, a turf farm house and barn which has been preserved as a heritage site and tourist attraction. It was raining lightly as we walked over to the sod covered buildings, and here we got a sense of what living conditions would have been like for our people, before they left for America. It was warm inside. And the barn was cozy, having been transformed into a rather unique dining room, enwrapped with sod walls, and the supporting timbers of a bygone time. Before we left the choir sang, unaccompanied under the rafters for our noon- time providers, and we left feeling richer for the experi- ence. Aðalsteinn and the people of Egilsstaðir had been prepar- ing for our visit for quite some time. We would sleep and eat at the Brúará school, a few kilo- meters out of town, and again the choir would put on a full concert at the Egilsstaðir church. This had its special moments. Rosalind had select- ed a poem by local poet, Hákon Aðalsteinsson, Vor við hafið, and set it to music. This would be the first time that Hákon would hear his poem rendered in music by the choir, and it was an emotional time, as the choir sang with particular warmth and feeling. The entire audience was deeply moved. At the close of the concert, much to our amazement, gifts by local artists were presented to the entire choir group - certainly we all left with a special warmth in our hearts for this place and its people. We left Egilsstaðir next morning having had breakfast prepared for us courtesy of the Friends of Canada in East Ice- land, and served by many of the good people of the area. It was foggy as we left Egilsstaðir, but the sun came out to afford us a spectacular view of the East Fjords. For most of us it was our first time through this area, and places such as Reyðarfjörður, Fáskrúðsfjörður, Stöðvar- fjörður, Breiðdalsvík, Beruf- jörður, Djúpivogur and Höfn are now forever etched in our memory. There is astonishing beauty mixed with a sense of solitude in this part of Iceland, an area whose villages are largely dependant on the fish- ing grounds nearby. What stood out for us were the sparkling streams of crystal clear water flowing every- where down the steep moun- tainsides to the sea. We spent the night at Hrol- laugsstaðir at the base of the big glacier, Vatnajökull, well positioned for yet another day of wonders awaiting us next moming. Rain during the night, and another foggy moming. It was a short distance to Jökulsárlón, a small lagoon at the base of glacier, Breiðamerkurjökull. The fog was lifting, and the base of this immense mountain of ice was visible. Great ice- bergs, broken from the base, floated towards the ocean near- by, or stranded on the sandy bottom loomed before us, scat- tered haphazardly across the lagoon — an unforgettable sight! Driving on, the clouds lift- ed, and from time to time val- leys filled with glacier ice oozed down to the sea. The road led past Svínafell, from where Flosi and his men rode in the saga times, on their way to the buming of Njáll. Up to Skaftafell we went, stopping at a rise of land over- looking the great black sand flats of Skeiðarársandur. The sun had taken full control now, and the view was staggering. It is here that glacial floods burst forth, sometimes sweeping away everything in their path, roads, bridges and power lines. It was a morning filled with natural beauty, but time dictat- ed that we must keep moving to our next destination. Gunnarsholt was occupied in settlement times by Gunnar Baugsson, grandfather to the hero of Njál’s saga, Gunnar from Hlíðarendi. Gunnarsholt is now the Soil Conservation Centre for Iceland, and it was here we were headed. There would be lunch for the group, hosted by the center’s director, Sveinn Runólfsson and his wife Oddný. It had been a long drive and this was a most wel- come stop. An added pleasure was to be met there by our former Consul General, Eiður Guðna- son and Eygló Haraldsdóttir. Having enjoyed a wonderful Icelandic lunch, and having been formally welcomed by Sveinn, the choir sang a num- ber of songs from its repertoire for our hosts and friends. A fine suxprise awaited us all, when from behind the curtains of space and time stepped the saga heroes, Gunnar and Njáll fully armed, and dressed in their Viking age regalia. PHOTO BY WANDA ANDERSON The choir by Lögberg at Þingvellir PHOTO BY DAVID GISLASON Björn Sveinsson demonstrating horsemanship Visit us on the web at http://www.logberg.com

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