In the end, tractors outnumbered ptarmigans but the charming island of Hrísey still won us over. Escape the hoards, escape life, chill.
There is surprisingly little wildlife in Iceland. Even the flies seem to struggle in the cold and wind. I haven’t seen a lizard, many beetles or a mouse. The reindeer are elusive as are the Arctic foxes, if they even exist in most of Iceland.
However, what the country does have in abundance is birds and Hrísey is famous for its ptarmigans as there are no predators on the island to threaten them. There are worse reasons to visit a place than a small grouse like bird who changes his coat depending on the seasons, so we drove to Árskógssandur, 25 km north of Akureyri, and caught the boat.
Hrísey is the second largest island in Iceland, which isn’t saying much as it is only 7.5 km long and 2.5 km wide at its widest. It sits in the middle of Eyjafjörður, a distinctive low lying mass.
The highest point of 110 m is at Bratti to the north and marked by one of only 8 listed lighthouses in Iceland. However, it is not possible to see that as the island is divided in half and the north is a no-go area. It was once used as a quarantine station for the importation of Galloway cattle. I am not sure what they are quarantining these days as the broken down fences wouldn’t keep anything in.
The Saevar ferry chugs over at roughly 2 hourly intervals and only takes 15 minutes (1,700 kr. round trip). Brave the cold wind on the front and you will get a bird’s eye view of the jolly multicoloured village.
We had left the car in the free parking at the port so were on foot. A five minute hike bought us to a little grassy field on the water front where we could put up our tent. A boardwalk down to the water provided a nice sheltered spot to sit and enjoy a view of the fjord.
Payent for camping of 1,700 kr each, including showers, was taken at the smart swimming pool behind the site. Entry to the pool is 1,100 kr. and they even have a scenic hot tub – and without the awful hoards of Mývatn, our previous stop.
In fact, in one bounce, we seemed to have removed ourselves from everyone. Setting off to do one of the marked walks around the island, we found ourselves strolling blithely up the middle of the main street, lined with colourful old tin houses which all looked very spick and span.
Bizarrely, there were many old tractors around, some lovingly restored. Maybe they are leftovers from another time, pressed into service for the ferry run.
In the playground children played on a flying fox which looked highly dangerous to me. It would definitely be illegal at home.
We passed old fish drying racks. Although the island has always had some sort of minor occupation, it was not until Jörundur Jónsson arrived in 1862 that the fishing industry burgeoned and the population really took off. The Norwegians arrived to salt herrings until a storm on 11th September 1884 destroyed 41 boats and drove many bankrupt.
The Swedes took over the herring salting which had its heyday from 1930-1950. From 1960 a general decline began as the herrings disappeared and now only about 200 people live on the island.
Our chosen red route led through the middle to Borgarbrik, on the eastern side by the dividing fence. I was impressed with Hrísey: they are trying really hard and have laid out several walks, all with informative boards en route.
Since sheep grazing stopped in 1974, the low thick vegetation of willows, juniper and brushwood has rebounded, although here is still much lupin culling to do.
As we dropped down to Borgarbrik, we had a lovely view of the rocky inlet and cliffs, with high mountains around the fjord where snow still lingered.
We swung southwards down the coast, crossing the outline of an old farm with a hayfield – it was already abandoned and overgrown with heather by 1712. Arctic terns headed inland to their nests with silvered sprats clutched firmly in their beaks.
Finally we found the fountain of energy and calmness of mind (is there a contradiction here?) at Orkulindin. Take a seat overlooking the fjord and close your eyes.. It didn’t do much for me but I was pretty happy to be there anyway. It’s a nice spot though. Explanation of what to look for below – it’s too longwinded for me!
The track wound on over the hill back to the village, passing the smart black and white home of Aldan Halldórsdóttir who was born in 1913 and lived in Hrísey her entire life until her death in 1998. She spent her life filleting fish and was a cat lover – there must be a connection somewhere!? Strangely enough, I’m not sure I have even seen a cat in Iceland yet.
BIRD WATCHING
The following day we had a gentle 4 km amble on the blue route to a bird hide overlooking a big pond. We saw skuas and an owl en route and ducks and terns on the water.
The path crossed the runway – just markers on the grass – and we dropped down to the coast and came back around to the harbour, having a tractor count en route (well over 40).
There was just one thing left to do: the Jörundur Jónsson museum (1000 kr.), which is found in the oldest house in the village, which also contains the Tourist Information Centre such as it is – one map / brochure available.
For a man who was called Jörundur the Shark, running 5 shark fishing vessels, there was fairly little about him or the history of the Greenland shark fishing industry bar some rusty hooks and knives.
As Simon commented:
“I would be very suspicious of any food that needs fermenting for 6 months to make it edible!”
However Jörundur sired 17 children with two different wives so something agreed with him. It is actually funny, looking at the old photographs, just how well and wholesome these people living on the edge of the world looked – it must have been the fish diet.
There were a few other bits and pieces of odd collections, but the whole thing will detain you for all of 20 minutes. The actual house, dating from 1885, was actually more interesting – it was built with wood salvaged from boats destroyed in the great storm of 1884.
And the ptarmigans? Typical, but ptarmigans came there none!
NOTES
Find all the information you need on Hrísey here:
There are 2 B&B’s listed and one restaurant – Verbúdin – which offers coffee, catch of the day, soups and cakes. It even has an outdoor terrace if the weather is ever good enough.
There is also a small general store with an outside cupboard of essentials when closed.
