In July and August 2024, Jill and I journeyed through Iceland, the Land of Fire and Ice. We spent two days in Reykjavik and then sailed around the island on a 7-day cruise aboard the Windstar Star Pride. Iceland, a bucket list cruise, was everything we had hoped for and more!
Click HERE to read a short introduction to our adventure.
This story, part of a series, is about our walking tour through Ísafjörður, the largest town in Westfjords.
Click HERE to read a short introduction to our adventure.
This story, part of a series, is about our walking tour through Ísafjörður, the largest town in Westfjords.
Ísafjörður, Iceland (August 7, 2024) As you can see by the way we were dressed—in multiple layers—it was a coooool day. The temperature never wavered a degree or two from 46F, and there was no warmth from the sun as it was hidden throughout our stay behind a thick layer of ominous gray clouds.
No matter, though, as Jill and I were intrepid travelers, and “neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night” (the creed of American postal workers!) would keep us from our appointed rounds: A walking tour, A Modern Taste of Ísafjörður, through the historic areas of town—areas with well-preserved timber-framed houses, trading posts, and other buildings that dated to the 18th and 19th centuries.
Ahh, I thought, a glimpse into the town’s past—its history and culture.
It was that and more, and I’ll get to the highlights of our day in a bit, but first, let me tell you something of where we were.
No matter, though, as Jill and I were intrepid travelers, and “neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night” (the creed of American postal workers!) would keep us from our appointed rounds: A walking tour, A Modern Taste of Ísafjörður, through the historic areas of town—areas with well-preserved timber-framed houses, trading posts, and other buildings that dated to the 18th and 19th centuries.
Ahh, I thought, a glimpse into the town’s past—its history and culture.
It was that and more, and I’ll get to the highlights of our day in a bit, but first, let me tell you something of where we were.
Ísafjörður (the phonetic pronunciation is ‘eye-sa-fee-yor-dur’), a town of 2,600, sits at the innermost part of Skutulsfjörður—a narrow western branch of a large fjord in the Westfjords region of Iceland. Even with so few inhabitants, Ísafjörður is the largest municipality in Westfjords and ninth largest in Iceland.
The fjord is sheltered by the mountains that surround it, and therefore it tends to freeze on cold winter days. In fact, the mountains are so high that the sun doesn’t reach the waters in winter! It was this characteristic—this icy condition—that gave rise to the town’s name, as Ísafjörður translates to ‘ice fjord.’
The fjord is sheltered by the mountains that surround it, and therefore it tends to freeze on cold winter days. In fact, the mountains are so high that the sun doesn’t reach the waters in winter! It was this characteristic—this icy condition—that gave rise to the town’s name, as Ísafjörður translates to ‘ice fjord.’
According to the Book of Settlements—a detailed account of early Icelandic history written in the 12th and 13th centuries—this area of Westfjords was first settled by Helgi Hrólfsson of Norway in the 9th century. The town itself grew from a Danish trading post that was established in the 16th century, and it was granted municipal status in 1786. At one time, the population of Ísafjörður was greater than that of Reykjavik.
Imagine that, I thought, as the current population of Reykjavik was more than 130,000. Different paths, different outcomes!
Okay—it’s time to tell you about our day in Ísafjörður.
Imagine that, I thought, as the current population of Reykjavik was more than 130,000. Different paths, different outcomes!
Okay—it’s time to tell you about our day in Ísafjörður.
I’m not certain why, but Star Pride anchored in the bay rather than dock alongside the pier. (It might have been that the two ships already in port—both from cruise lines I never heard of—occupied the only docks that could accommodate a cruise ship the size of Star Pride.) As such, ‘all ashore going ashore’ got there and back on orange and white tender boats—like the one you see in the photo at the right—which ran a continuous schedule throughout the day.
It was half past 12 when Jill and I boarded one, and within 15 minutes we disembarked at the pier, where we met our tour guide and a dozen or so fellow passengers who had booked A Modern Taste of Ísafjörður. |
"What's your name?" I asked our guide, figuring it must be Einar or Gunnar or maybe Gudmundur. You know, a strong Icelandic name.
"Jim," he replied. Yep. His name was Jim, and he hailed from outside Manchester, England. Jim came to Ísafjörður in 2018 to earn a degree in marine biology at the University Centre of Westfjords. He did not say whether he had finished his studies…and I didn’t ask. But I suspected he got sidetracked, as he now held several part time jobs, including ‘tour guide.’ |
Jim led us from the pier past the marina…
…to our first stop, which seemed to be a nondescript house. But as I soon learned, this home was our first lesson about the history and culture of Ísafjörður.
“You will see many historical homes as we walk through this part of town, and there are two things about them I’d like to share with you before we go further,” he said.
“You will see many historical homes as we walk through this part of town, and there are two things about them I’d like to share with you before we go further,” he said.
By ‘historical,’ he meant more than 100 years old.
“Do you see the sign on the house—the one with the number ‘1898’ on it?” he asked as he pointed to a spot between the two windows. “Do you know what that number stands for?” “Just a guess,” I answered, “but it looks like the street address.” Jim smiled and looked around. Obviously, I guessed wrong, and because I did, no one else seemed interested in outing forth an answering. |
“The number represents the year this house was built,” Jim said. “You will see more of these as we walk along the streets ahead of us.”
Then he added, “And here’s a fact: Ísafjörður has the oldest collection of timber frame houses in Iceland.”
When Jill and I toured the Golden Circle west of Reykjavik—it seemed so long ago but was only a handful of days back—we learned the Vikings cleared nearly all the trees from Iceland’s once dense forests to build homes and ships and to farm the land. While I saw little evidence of forested land around Ísafjörður, there may still have been trees nearby in the 1800s...or maybe timber was imported.
“Did you notice that the siding and roof were made from corrugated sheet metal?” Jim asked.
I nodded, as did others.
“You might say our homes are ironclad from top to bottom,” he said with a smile. “For more than a century—in fact, since the late 1800s—Icelanders have used this material to protect the timber construction from our harsh weather.”
An uncommon approach, I thought, and fascinating!
Here are two of the many pics I snapped of 19th century homes. The one on the left was built in 1853, while the one on the right was built in 1884.
Then he added, “And here’s a fact: Ísafjörður has the oldest collection of timber frame houses in Iceland.”
When Jill and I toured the Golden Circle west of Reykjavik—it seemed so long ago but was only a handful of days back—we learned the Vikings cleared nearly all the trees from Iceland’s once dense forests to build homes and ships and to farm the land. While I saw little evidence of forested land around Ísafjörður, there may still have been trees nearby in the 1800s...or maybe timber was imported.
“Did you notice that the siding and roof were made from corrugated sheet metal?” Jim asked.
I nodded, as did others.
“You might say our homes are ironclad from top to bottom,” he said with a smile. “For more than a century—in fact, since the late 1800s—Icelanders have used this material to protect the timber construction from our harsh weather.”
An uncommon approach, I thought, and fascinating!
Here are two of the many pics I snapped of 19th century homes. The one on the left was built in 1853, while the one on the right was built in 1884.
As we continued our walk, I spotted a couple of residents puttering around—one was working on his car, while another was painting the window frame on his house. And then there was an older gentleman, with flags in hand and a big smile on his face, who seemed content to relax in his chair and watch the world go by!
Next, we stopped at this building, named Húsmæðraskólinn Ósk (pronounced Hus-mah-dra-sko-lin Awsk).
“This is the Ósk Housewives’ School,” Jim said. “It was founded in 1912 by Camilla Torfason, who was the first Icelandic woman to pass the university entrance exam.”
“This is the Ósk Housewives’ School,” Jim said. “It was founded in 1912 by Camilla Torfason, who was the first Icelandic woman to pass the university entrance exam.”
There were 12 female students the first year, and their subjects, according to Jim, included “cooking, cleaning, washing, sewing, nursing, and managing household bills. Over the years, thousands of women attend this school, which operated until 1990.”
After I returned home, I found a wonderful article about the Housewives’ School, which included many period photos. If you are interested in learning more, click this link to access the article: Ósk Housewives' School - Ísafjörður Music School (tonis.is).
“Follow me,” Jim said, as he led us to Hvers Hversdagssafn—The Everyday Museum—which offered keen insights into “everyday life from bygone times” through a series of short films--Waiting for the Storm, The Northern Lights, and Sounds from the Kitchen—and a handful of exhibits.
The first film was about the impact of harsh winter conditions on people’s lives—the winters were more severe than anything I ever experienced!—, while the second film asked the question, “What happens when everyday wonders, like the Northern Lights, are marketed for tourism.”
Both films were interesting, but I was transfixed by Sounds from the Kitchen—a montage of stories, songs, and conversations captured on a cassette recorder that sat on a kitchen windowsill of a home in the 1980s and 1990s. Here are two frames from the movie:
After I returned home, I found a wonderful article about the Housewives’ School, which included many period photos. If you are interested in learning more, click this link to access the article: Ósk Housewives' School - Ísafjörður Music School (tonis.is).
“Follow me,” Jim said, as he led us to Hvers Hversdagssafn—The Everyday Museum—which offered keen insights into “everyday life from bygone times” through a series of short films--Waiting for the Storm, The Northern Lights, and Sounds from the Kitchen—and a handful of exhibits.
The first film was about the impact of harsh winter conditions on people’s lives—the winters were more severe than anything I ever experienced!—, while the second film asked the question, “What happens when everyday wonders, like the Northern Lights, are marketed for tourism.”
Both films were interesting, but I was transfixed by Sounds from the Kitchen—a montage of stories, songs, and conversations captured on a cassette recorder that sat on a kitchen windowsill of a home in the 1980s and 1990s. Here are two frames from the movie:
In the first, someone asks, “Do you know how to bake a cake? No wait, do you know how to cook a fish?”
And in the second, a voice intones, “Are you back home? I was glad to hear that.”
There was nothing exceptional about these (and other) frames or the conversations…except they were real—real people, real voices, real photographs—that created a “soundscape of the past.” It was captivating!
The videos were five to nine minutes each. Click this link if you’d like to watch one or all: cinema – Hvers museum // Hversdagssafn.
And in the second, a voice intones, “Are you back home? I was glad to hear that.”
There was nothing exceptional about these (and other) frames or the conversations…except they were real—real people, real voices, real photographs—that created a “soundscape of the past.” It was captivating!
The videos were five to nine minutes each. Click this link if you’d like to watch one or all: cinema – Hvers museum // Hversdagssafn.
Turnhúsið at Westfjords Heritage Museum
The Westfjords Heritage Museum, our next stop, is located on an historical site named Neðstikaupstaður. (This was a mouthful of letters I never tried to pronounce!) The site was established by Danish traders—fish and other goods—in the middle of the 18th century. It now consists of four buildings, and “is the oldest village in Iceland where houses are grouped together from historical times.”
This monumental site is now a source of pride for the town and its people, for it keeps history alive in an authentic atmosphere of the 18th century.
~ Westfjords Heritage Museum
|
The building in the photo above, built in 1784, is called Turnhúsið. It served as a storage house but is now the home of Heritage Museum.
The oldest building—right-hand photo above—is known as Krambúðin. It was built in 1757 as a storage house and trading store and now houses the museum’s curator and his family.
Faktorshúsið—left-hand photo above—was built in 1765 as a home for the person who managed the trading store.
The fourth building is Tjöruhúsið—I failed to snap a pic of it—was built in 1781 as a storage house. In 2004, it was renovated and repurposed as a seafood restaurant of the same name.
“The Heritage Museum, which opened in 1988, is also known as the Maritime Museum,” Jim said, “as most of the exhibits showcase Westfjords’ maritime heritage—its fisheries and the fishing industry.”
The artifacts, which included diving suits, fishing gear, all sorts of technical equipment, boat models, and household goods, were said to be priceless.
Faktorshúsið—left-hand photo above—was built in 1765 as a home for the person who managed the trading store.
The fourth building is Tjöruhúsið—I failed to snap a pic of it—was built in 1781 as a storage house. In 2004, it was renovated and repurposed as a seafood restaurant of the same name.
“The Heritage Museum, which opened in 1988, is also known as the Maritime Museum,” Jim said, “as most of the exhibits showcase Westfjords’ maritime heritage—its fisheries and the fishing industry.”
The artifacts, which included diving suits, fishing gear, all sorts of technical equipment, boat models, and household goods, were said to be priceless.
Jim allowed 20 minutes for us to wander through the three floors of the museum. This was much less time than required to do a deep dive (yes, pun intended) into the story—the history and culture of this fishing and trading community—as told through hundreds of artifacts and many storyboards...but I reminded myself, my tour was a ‘taste of Ísafjörður,’ and a taste of the town’s maritime heritage was what I got.
I didn’t dwell on one exhibit, but the exhibit I learned the most from was the showcased fisherman’s clothes (top left-hand photo above). Except for his two-thumbed woolen gloves, the fisherman's clothes were made from animal skins—sheepskin for his jacket and cowhide or horsehide for his trousers, shoes and hat. All were greased with cod or skate liver to keep them waterproof. And get this: It was the fisherman’s job, starting at age 14, to make his own clothes!
Jill and I mugged for the photo at the right, in which we reversed the traditional roles of men and women—Jill was the fisherman, and I was the housewife. What do you think?! |
“Well, are you thirsty?” Jim asked when our group reassembled outside the museum.
The collective answer was, “YES!”
“Then follow me,” Jim said.
And we did, to Dokkan Brugghús, Westfjords first and only brewery. This family-owned microbrewery, which opened in 2017, had 12 beers on tap, and each of us received a flight of four—lager, amber, IPA, & sour.
The collective answer was, “YES!”
“Then follow me,” Jim said.
And we did, to Dokkan Brugghús, Westfjords first and only brewery. This family-owned microbrewery, which opened in 2017, had 12 beers on tap, and each of us received a flight of four—lager, amber, IPA, & sour.
My favorite was the lager, named Fossavatn in honor of an annual ski marathon in Westfjords.
Jill's favorite? None of the above.
And that was the end our guided tour, but not the end of my day in Ísafjörður.
Jill's favorite? None of the above.
And that was the end our guided tour, but not the end of my day in Ísafjörður.
“Jill, it’s only 4, and the all-aboard isn’t until 8. I’d like to see more of Ísafjörður. Would you care to join me?”
“Thanks,” she replied, “but I think I’ll head back to the ship.”
I spent two hours wandering the streets, this time across the bay from the historic center of town. I won’t burden you with everything I saw—and I saw a lot!—but I’d like to share the two landmarks of greatest interest to me.
“Thanks,” she replied, “but I think I’ll head back to the ship.”
I spent two hours wandering the streets, this time across the bay from the historic center of town. I won’t burden you with everything I saw—and I saw a lot!—but I’d like to share the two landmarks of greatest interest to me.
The first, located in front of City Hall, was Memorial to Fisherman, a bronze statue of two fishermen with their nets. This sculpture, created by artist Ragnar Kjartansson (1923-1988), commemorated mariners lost at sea. It was installed as part of the town’s 100th anniversary celebration.
There was a plaque on the plinth, with an inscription written in Icelandic. Later, I translated the inscription with Google Translate. In memory of those who are lost. In honor of those who sail out to the fishing grounds. |
In memory of those who are lost. In honor of those who sail out to the fishing grounds.
The artist, I read, “often expressed the view that seamen tended to be ignored in art, despite the fact that that seafarers were among the nation's most outstanding people.”
Nice!
The description for my earlier tour said, “…you will drop in at the Culture House...” Well, we didn’t, so now I did...and there I had an interesting conversation with a docent, which I’ll share in a moment.
The artist, I read, “often expressed the view that seamen tended to be ignored in art, despite the fact that that seafarers were among the nation's most outstanding people.”
Nice!
The description for my earlier tour said, “…you will drop in at the Culture House...” Well, we didn’t, so now I did...and there I had an interesting conversation with a docent, which I’ll share in a moment.
The Culture House is a library, archive, museum, and exhibition hall—a place to learn about the history of Ísafjörður and the Westfjords Region.
This building, originally constructed in 1924-1925, first served as a community hospital—it was “the most magnificent building of its kind in Iceland at the time”—and did so until 1989, when a new regional hospital was built. Sometime after the hospital closed, the building was renovated; it was reopened in 2003 as a cultural center. |
There were several exhibits on the second and third floors, including beds, equipment, and other items used in the hospital. There was a photograph on the hospital bed in the pic below—a child was in the bed and a stern-looking lady, who I assumed was the child’s mother, sat nearby. The index card below the photograph said, “Hospital bed from 1900, used in this house until 1970.”
The library, located on the first floor, was extensive—more than 120,000 books, periodicals, and newspapers. For lack of time, I didn’t browse it—but I was certain there was little I could read if I had, as most titles were likely printed in Icelandic.
There was also a collection of about 200 paintings, sculptures, and drawings displayed throughout the building. This whimsical sculpture, titled Leapfrog, caught my eye. The artist was Ragnar Kjartansson, the same fellow who created Memorial to Fishermen. The text box on the pedestal that held the sculpture read, “Ragnar sought inspiration in old memories; he said himself that he was a storyteller in his art.” |
As I looked at his sculpture, I could imagine Ragnar as a young boy playing leapfrog with a friend.
“So, Howard, what about that conversation with a docent you alluded to earlier?”
Ahh…glad you reminded me!
“So, Howard, what about that conversation with a docent you alluded to earlier?”
Ahh…glad you reminded me!
There was a book cart in the vestibule with a couple dozen copies of a single book. The book was titled Fjallkonan, and I already knew the English translation—Lady of the Mountain—because Jill and I ate at a restaurant of the same name when we were in Reykjavik at the start of our trip.
I picked up a copy and found a docent, a young lady whose name I do not remember. Like 90% of Icelanders, she was fluent in English. “In Reykjavik, I learned the Lady of the Mountain is the female personification of Iceland, but I don’t know anything else about her. Can you tell me more?” I asked. |
“Sure,” she said with a smile. “She is a mythical lady with an independent spirit, and she is typically depicted as you see her on the cover of the book, with long, wavy blond hair and a crown of ice with fiery flames. That is a raven on her shoulder and a long sword in her hand.”
The crown of ice with fiery flames made sense to me, as Iceland is known as the Land of Fire and Ice due to its landscape, which features active volcanoes and vast glaciers. So, too, the raven, an important symbol in Icelandic folklore and superstition.
“Fjallkonan first appeared in a 19th century poem,” she continued, “and is present in many of our folk tales. On our independence day, which is June 17, a woman from our community is chosen to dress as Fjallkonan and recite the poem.“
I thought that, perhaps, she had once recited this poem, so I asked.
“Yes,” she replied. “The poem begins…
The crown of ice with fiery flames made sense to me, as Iceland is known as the Land of Fire and Ice due to its landscape, which features active volcanoes and vast glaciers. So, too, the raven, an important symbol in Icelandic folklore and superstition.
“Fjallkonan first appeared in a 19th century poem,” she continued, “and is present in many of our folk tales. On our independence day, which is June 17, a woman from our community is chosen to dress as Fjallkonan and recite the poem.“
I thought that, perhaps, she had once recited this poem, so I asked.
“Yes,” she replied. “The poem begins…
For a thousand years she lay hidden in the cold embrace of the mountain, off the beaten track,
The young woman that the people of Seyðisfjörður found up on Vestdalsheiði last summer. Who was she? What was she wanting? |
“And it goes on from there.”
“Thank you,” I said. “By the way, what’s the price of this book?”
“It’s free,” she replied.
The nearly 200-page book was written in Icelandic, so it's unlikely I’ll ever read it—even with Google translator. But I could not pass it up because I loved the illustration on the cover, and it was a wonderful keepsake of my awesome day Ísafjörður.
I have one last photo to share with you—a photo of Star Pride as it anchored in the bay, which I snapped from a stone jetty that offered the first unobstructed view of the ship I’ve had since we set sail.
“Thank you,” I said. “By the way, what’s the price of this book?”
“It’s free,” she replied.
The nearly 200-page book was written in Icelandic, so it's unlikely I’ll ever read it—even with Google translator. But I could not pass it up because I loved the illustration on the cover, and it was a wonderful keepsake of my awesome day Ísafjörður.
I have one last photo to share with you—a photo of Star Pride as it anchored in the bay, which I snapped from a stone jetty that offered the first unobstructed view of the ship I’ve had since we set sail.
I was back aboard Star Pride at half past six. Jill and I had dinner in Amphora—salad, soup, fish, and ice cream for me—and then we listened to a music duo in Compass Rose before we called it a night.
This day was low-impact—easy on my body—and delightful from start to finish. While there were no WOW sights or attractions, I felt I gained a good understanding of the history and culture of Ísafjörður and Westfjords…and after all, this was my purpose.
Tomorrow, we will be in Grundarfjörður, located on the west coast of Iceland. I booked an exciting excursion--A Journey to the Center of the Earth. I look forward to sharing my experiences with you in my next story.
Tomorrow, we will be in Grundarfjörður, located on the west coast of Iceland. I booked an exciting excursion--A Journey to the Center of the Earth. I look forward to sharing my experiences with you in my next story.