Reykjavík Grapevine - 11.10.2013, Qupperneq 29

Reykjavík Grapevine - 11.10.2013, Qupperneq 29
All you need in one place www.handknit.is ONLY SWEATER SELECTION, NO KNITING MATERIAL Issue 16 — 201329 Travel drop to the right—quite alarming as we crunch over snow and ice, descending into town in darkness. After a warm welcome from Eva and Ásbjörn, we go to bed like it's Christmas Eve, eager to see the glorious Westfjords outside of the curtains in the morning. Exploring the coastline, taking a dip When morning comes, the view is not as desolate as imagined—a line of ten or so hotel guests are tour- ing Iceland on a photography-related trip, and they line the rocky shore in bright all-weather gear. As the sun rises, luminous orange and pink hues catch the clouds and reflect from the snowy mountains below, and they shiver, huddle, and snap pictures of the dynamic, ever-changing view. One hearty breakfast later, it's time to venture further north. The road winds just a few more kilometres up the meandering Strandir coastline past a series of farms and sparse summer houses, mostly unoccupied as the bitterly cold autumn sets in. Gjögur is an empty wind-whipped hamlet with rusting, tumbledown boathouses and a lonely crane ("Made In Italy") creaking on the wooden pier. We pass a tiny airfield, its windsock a rare spot of red amongst the graduating tones of the autumn foliage and icy cliffs. It's a breathtaking drive. At the end of the trail lies Kros- sneslaug, a tiny swimming pool with heated changing rooms and show- ers—essential for the sub-zero winter months—and a steaming hotpot, all looking out over the choppy sea. The pool has a vivid aquamarine bottom that gives it a feeling of unreality set against the crashing surf and black shoreline. Geometrically odd mountains peek out of the sea in mist, and sea birds screech close overhead. It's a rare and striking place, and a perfect day trip for visitors even in the dead of winter. Touring the old Herring Factory, home to art Back at the hotel we dig into a hot din- ner and watch the sun silhouette the mountains, before an inky blackness sets in. We sit in front of the hotel for a cigarette, gazing outwards, far away from any streetlights or settlements. All that's visible from the steps of Hotel Djúpavík are the crests of breaking waves, just twenty metres away, the ocean sound adding to the feeling of deep peace and seclusion that per- vades this unique place. On the final morning, we go into the Herring Factory for a short-guided tour and to snap some pictures. The hall where Sigur Rós played now houses a collection of vintage cars and con- struction vehicles. The large coal oven that used to fire the plant's machinery is still, and there's a lonely beauty in the vast, rusting metal cones, flapping hatches and rickety stairways. We wan- der through the silently deteriorating bones of the factory, now an immersive natural art installation. There's an open round hatch allow- ing access into one of the oil tanks. Clambering through is like entering a film set, too perfect to be true—a spiral pipe leads to the centre of the round room, and a high single window lets in a beam of pale light. Every footstep creates a deep, sonorous echo that goes on for ages. There's an affecting holy atmosphere in this most unlikely of places. Even after two days, leaving is a wrench. Eva and Ásbjörn have made new something new of this empty vil- lage, and staying at the hotel is like be- ing a guest in someone's home. It may feel like the very edge of the world, but the lights are still on in Djúpavík. Claus Sterneck “As luck would have it, this was the moment Iceland's most famous band decided to come to town.” Distance from Reykjavík: 340km
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Reykjavík Grapevine

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