Reykjavík Grapevine - 19.07.2019, Blaðsíða 47

Reykjavík Grapevine - 19.07.2019, Blaðsíða 47
higher ground and settle in to wait. Several of the group have come prepared with telescopic zoom lenses, and they trace the land patiently for signs of move- ment. Eyjó’s voice lowers. He recounts how Arctic foxes are Iceland’s only indigenous land mammals, thought to have arrived on ice- bergs 10,000 years ago. They can survive temperatures as frigid as -35°, so the rough winters aren’t a threat, but they’ve been locked in battle with Icelandic farmers since the settlement era. Foxes were the settlers’ nemesis, known for raiding larders and killing vulnerable livestock—a matter of grave importance in the time of subsistence living. They’re still hunted today, mainly for sport— but they’ve been a protected spe- cies in Hornstrandir since 1993. Into the valley The afternoon draws on, and my companion and I decide to part from the group for a while and hike up the valley. We head to- wards a waterfall in the middle distance, and fox-signs peter out the farther we get from the den. Kvíar drops out of sight as we cross the lush wetlands, and we pass through meadows of cotton- grass, wild angelica and purple creeping thyme, soaking in the sounds, smells and colours of the untouched countryside. As we circle back along the coast towards the house, I mo- mentarily fall behind, absorbed in the hike. When I look up, my heart skips a beat—just a few metres away, my companion has happened upon a sleeping fox, al- most stepping on it. It leaps up in surprise, bounding past her in two arcing head-height jumps and trotting off to hide in a nearby outcrop. The three of us freeze. The fox’s head rises from behind the rocks as it regards the situa- tion. Its coat is patchy, between the white of winter and the black of summer. Its pointed ears sink away once more. Although Horn- strandir’s foxes are tame, this one has been startled, and it slinks away up the steep hillside and over the clifftop. Last gasp barks Back at Kvíar, Eyjó is serving up a dinner of baked fish, omelettes and potatoes. There’s been no ac- tivity at the den. We recount the story of our sighting, passing around the camera to share the handful of blurry pictures of our encounter. However, all is not lost. After packing up the house, the group is hiking back to meet the returning boat when a strange sound echoes down from the cliffs. Camera lenses shoot up, and the culprit is quickly identified—it’s the bark of a different fox, this time on the mountain overlooking Lónafjörður. Shutter snaps ring out as it stalks along the crest of the mountain and into the wilder- ness beyond. The group’s spirits are lifted even after this sighting-at-dis- tance. There’s much to talk about on the homewards journey—so much, in fact, that we barely no- ticed the choppy sea as the wild cliffs of Hornstrandir vanish back into their halo of clouds. gpv.is/travel Follow all our travels A fox assessing our sudden encounter Opening hours: Thursdays ................15:00 - 18:00 Fridays .....................15:00 - 18:00 Want to visit our factory? Send us an email varma@varma.is and we will find time for it! Varma Factory Store Ármúla 31, Reykjavík Iceland's most mysterious region
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