The Icelandic Canadian - 01.06.2004, Síða 21

Vol. 58 #4
THE ICELANDIC CANADIAN
167
where we were given a demonstration of
the operation. Having said our goodbyes,
we were back in the Landrover for another
busy day. We arrived at a farm that
prompted Afi’s interest. The farmyard had
many barns. A young man who raised bulls
exclusively invited us into the nearest barn.
He was interested in meeting the ‘vestur
Islendlngur’. Before we left, we were invit-
ed to have coffee - and to meet his wife and
two young children.
The next town we arrived at was
Dalvlk. There we visited with Afi’s cousin
Bara and her son Elias. Bara was thrilled to
see Afi and insisted we look through some
photo albums while we enjoyed a lunch of
slatur, soup, lots of cheese, bread and oat-
meal - and of course, later followed by cin-
namon buns, pie and different kinds of
cake.
Enroute once more, we stopped at
another farm. It was obvious to me that
these people knew Afi well and had been
expecting us. And, once again, there was no
English conversation. The man’s name was
Porarinn Porarinsson. We enjoyed a tasty
salmon supper and then continued on our
way down a very wet secluded road with
large potholes. We saw rows and rows of
mountains and streams. There was no sign
of life anywhere until suddenly, we came
upon a tiny car stopped in the middle of the
road. A young girl from Norway sat inside
the vehicle waiting for help. Gudmundur
Oli told her he would call his police peers
to have someone check on her.
After a long drive, we entered figilss-
taSir and stopped at a house owned by
Adalsteinn Adalsteinsson. It was after mid-
night when we arrived, but he and his wife
were waiting for us. We visited over coffee
and desserts before Gudmundur Oli decid-
ed to leave for his home. We were sad to
say our goodbyes to him.
Following a hearty breakfast the next
morning, we were invited to look at yet
more photo albums. While the others
scanned the photo pages, I checked out the
book collection in the room and noticed a
copy of the Riverton History book. There,
I found the picture of my father’s family to
show Adalsteinn. An expression of disbe-
lief filled his face. He called his wife to view
the picture and suggested to me that his
wife might be related to my father’s family.
Soon after, we were invited to drive with
Adalsteinn to the archives building where
an employee printed off some information
for me about my dad’s family.
Following a delicious lunch of smoked
trout, flatbraud and skyr - we were taken
for a quick tour of the countryside. Mid
afternoon, we returned to the house,
picked up our luggage and were driven to a
restaurant that looked similar to a teahouse
back home. The delicious aroma of coffee
and fresh baking filled the air of this small
two-story building. We were served by the
ever beautiful Icelandic girls who were
dressed in black and white outfits, making
their inviting figures stand out so well
against the backdrop of vertical pine planks
that covered the interior walls. We enjoyed
the lunch and prepared to drive down the
highway to meet a man in a red truck who
would be our host for the next two days.
The man’s name was Arnbjorn
Sigurbjornsson - who had a striking resem-
blance to the actor James Coburn. He lives
at a farm named Hofn. We loaded our lug-
gage into the back of Arnbjorn’s small
Toyota with bucket seats. It had a tiny
storage area between the seats and the back
of the cab. I found myself placed in this
area. It was necessary to fold the passenger
seat down and twist my body in order to fit
into the cramped space. Afi and Arnbjorn
sat comfortably, enjoying conversation in
the front seat. We arrived very late that
night at Arnbj orn’s farm. It was good to
stretch my legs and allow the circulation to
continue after sitting like a ‘pretzel’ for
such a long ride.
Arnbjorn was a bachelor. His culinary
skills reminded me of my own bachelor
days - when the menu was mainly quick
and most often came out of a can. We
toured the barnyard - many barns and
sheds. There was a large dairy barn, how-
ever, it seemed that the only animals
around were a few chickens. We visited
Arnbjorn’s daughter Johanna - where we
enjoyed a delicious chicken stew meal.
Following lunch, Arnbjorn drove us
high up into the mountains where we could
walk and take pictures of several glaciers.