Reykjavík Grapevine - sep. 2019, Blaðsíða 34

The Reykjavík G
rapevine
Best of Iceland 2019
34
At The Speed
Of Birds
A road trip to the eyris and eyries of
the Westfjords
Words: a rawlings Photos: John Rogers
Our gas is running on fumes as we
emerge from the belly of the moun-
tain, driving north out of a long sin-
gle-lane tunnel into the Westfjords’
picturesque Súgandafjörður. As the
road winds down the west bank, kit-
tiwakes and fulmars glide alongside
the car. We follow the birds. A rain-
bow paints the fjord’s mouth as birds
and car slow into the quaint fishing
village of Suðureyri.
With a population of just 300
people, Suðureyri offers a firsthand
experience of an environmentally
engaged community in an isolated
fjord. The village marina holds an
international eco-label Blue Flag for
its sustainable environmental man-
agement. Suðureyri’s local school
is one of two internationally recog-
nised eco-schools in the Westfjords,
awarded a Green Flag by the Foun-
dation for Environmental Education.
This village haven immerses the
visitor immediately in the home-
ly comfort of a rural community
aware of its interdependence with
the ecosystem. The swimming pool
is nestled at the foot of Breiðafjall,
offering a welcome opportunity to
contemplate the mountain. After our
morning soak and mountain medi-
tation, the pool’s manager, Ívar, rec-
ommends plokkfiskur at Fisherman
Café. We head there next.
Fisherman is a major attraction
for Westfjords authenticity and en-
vironmental education done well.
The ambitious establishment offers
accommodation, a café, a restaurant
and a gourmet seafood tour to ex-
perience local practices. By the end
of our meal, we are on a first-name
basis with Viktoria, our café hostess,
who shows us the plokkfiskur recipe
on proud display. Suðureyri proves a
warm welcome to Westfjords hospi-
tality.
Star-crossed plovers
After our soak and bite, it’s time to
fly to our next post. Suðureyri’s only
gas pump is permanently closed, so
we weigh our options and opt to con-
tinue towards Flateyri rather than
backtracking to Ísafjörður to refuel.
We tunnel into the mountain again,
driving south and west for dark kilo-
metres until we emerge to overlook
Önundarfjörður. The valley stretches
far below, with the North Atlantic
strung by an unexpected white-sand
beach on its western bank.
We turn right and coast into
Flateyri’s gas station with bare-
ly a drop left in our tank. The gas
pumps have yellow tape haphaz-
ardly wrapped around them, with
a hand-scribbled “lokað” sign an-
nouncing they are out of service. The
station’s staff explains the pumps will
open in two hours, as they are being
restocked, so we commit to a walk-
ing tour of Flateyri.
Yet another tunnel—this time con-
taining a footpath instead of a road—
beckons us up to the hill above the
town. Lupins line the path, and we
sound our voices in echoic booms
and hoots as we pass through the
tunnel. Our vocal experiment has
roused golden plovers and common
snipes. Plovers lure us with “tuuuuu”
up the path to ward us from their
nests. Snipes murmur their neighs
from the East—a sign of good luck
in Icelandic folklore. Following the
birds rewards us with a lovely view
of Flateyri and gravel bank on which
it was built.
Flateyri is even smaller than
Suðureyri, with a population of un-
der 200 people. Walking into the
village proper, a sign demarks the
presence of Iceland’s oldest store—a
bookstore that turns out to be a
charming time capsule of the village’s
Distance from
Reykjavík:
470 km
How to get there: Routes 1,
60, and 61
Accommodation: einarshusid.is Westfjords