Wild, rugged and off the beaten track: the eastern fjords of Iceland have some of the best scenery in the country. That is, if the weather cooperates..

It’s not every day that one wakes up to a volcano alert.

It’s not every day that one goes into the supermarket and gets a £20 bill for a lettuce and a few tomatoes.

But then it’s not every day that one wakes up in Iceland, and luckily our ferry had deposited us on the opposite side of the island to the possibly imminent eruption.
In which case, the eastern fjords, generally considered a rather overlooked part of Iceland, might suddenly become more popular.

Not that they don’t deserve to be.

Our ferry from Denmark had sailed into Seyðisfjörður, which initially looked a bit of a one horse town. Two days later it still looked a one horse town, albeit one with some off beat quirky charms.

A cluster of houses straggle around the water at the end of the fjord, largely in a colourful assortment of corrugated iron. Many of them hark back to the Norwegian fishermen who arrived in the mid 1800’s looking for herrings.

The focal point is the famous Blue Church which will occupy you for all of 5 minutes although it’s wooden interior is quite charming. The little stained glass model of it inside was also charming.

Outside, the classic shot of the church incorporates the rainbow pavement, which seems to have originated in a local organising his own celebration when he couldn’t make the Pride festival in Reykjavik.

It certainly makes everything look more jolly anyway which could be a bonus with the Icelandic weather. At the end of the rainbow, there are a couple of shops selling local crafts including Icelandic jumpers which I am still undecided about (approximately 130 euros).

However my favourite was a little further on: cross the road bridge then follow the bay around. You will see the most colourful display of all: an artist’s studio and garden where everything is made out of reclaimed or salvaged materials. There are some terrifically funky stools and tables and a fabulous hot tub. If he is around, you can have a guided tour for 5 Kr.

The studio next door has some beautiful ceramics and some very cool felted pictures of sheep – I think a return visit might be on the cards before we get the ferry home!

There was a neat little cafe next in line but it was closed. Instead, the outdoor terrace at the Hotel Aldan is a pleasant spot.

Further explorations to stretch our legs led us a couple of kilometres along the south of the bay and up to the Tvisöngur, which looks rather like a concrete hamman but is supposed to represent the Icelandic five tone harmony tradition, which was rather wasted on me.

The views over the fjord were good though and we walked back over the hillside to drop down to the dock, now occupied by a cruise boat whose passengers were immediately identified by their brilliant orange macs. The town is obviously now a frequent cruise stopover and combines well with a private morning session at the Vok Baths – see below.

Another gentle walk follows the Vestdalur Valley to the north of town: the path leads past a succession of waterfalls to the thundering Gufufoss cascade. This is actually right beside the road, so it is just as easy to drive there.

VOK BATHS

The country was wreathed in low cloud, making it a good a day as any for our first Icelandic hotpot – not food, as one may think, but a thermal bath.

Vok Baths were developed relatively recently in 2019 – I suspect someone saw a good opportunity to make money out of the cruise passengers. And us: entry was approximately £75 for two, although it did include a (tasteless) herbal tea afterwards made with the thermal waters, reputedly the only ones in Iceland pure enough to drink.

Just north of Egilsstaðir, a low building hugs the side of Urraðavatn lake with cedar lined pools of various temperatures. The two hexagonal infinity pools float in the water, the warmest a toasty 41° Jumping in the 12° lake is permitted if you are brave – we weren’t!

The most popular pool was next to the bar where luminous coloured slush drinks, smoothies and Vok beer are dispensed. There is also a little cafe.

The lake is surrounded by low farmland, relatively scenic at eye level, with lots of birdlife. We had an enjoyable couple of hours pool hopping and came out smelling of Icelandic spruce forest at the end from all the soaps and gels in the changing rooms.

MJÓIFJÖRÐUR

Onwards and downwards: we decided to explore Mjóifjörður, or ‘narrow fjord’ which led us back into the clouds again.

It is actually the next fjord south from Seyðisfjörður, but the approach by road was nearly 40km around from Egilsstaðir.
What we saw of the mountains was wild and dramatic before they were lost in mist.

We crept down a narrow gravel road in very bad visibility, heaving a sign of relief when we eventually dropped beneath the cloud cover.

A sweeping view down the fjord was revealed and the awe inspiring Klifbrekkufossar Waterfall which fell down the mountainside in tumultuous tiers. Shortly afterwards a narrow cleft revealed another impressive waterfall: I would hate to have to count the number of waterfalls in this country!

At the head of the fjord, an isolated house stood where one of Europe’s largest whaling factories once employed 200 people.

A little further, we found a scenic wreck: a U.S. landing craft. The Americans once used it to move vehicles and ferry supplies to a remote radar station in the fjords. It was bought to Mjóifjörður to shift herring remains but without it’s engines by that stage, it proved very unstable and it was abandoned in 1966.

The Sólbrekka Cafe at the small settlement of Brekka had camping on a grassy area outside the building (3,600 Kr. for 2) and we settled down to a cold night in the fjord.

DALATANGAVITI

Dalatangaviti is the eastern most point in Iceland. The rough rocky headland supports both an old and a new lighthouse – the latter a very garish fluorescent orange. It is a lonely spot, although there are a couple of houses. Arctic terns screeched overhead, obviously protective of hidden nests.

The drive there, about 15 km from Brekka on a fairly good gravel road, is stunningly beautiful, a succession of waterfalls, bays and the hollow humps of abandoned dwellings.

However, the low cloud persisted: it would be nice to see something of the country above 100 m. The fjord was a study in stillness; it wasn’t inconceivable that a whale might surface at any moment.

Finally the cloud started to lift and by the time we had retraced our steps to the old wreck we could even see the mountain tops. We decided to picnic there in welcome sunshine with the seaweed and brine smells of the fjord around us.

Eider ducks hugged the pebbled shores, the mottled brown females with fluffy chicks in tow. The males have a bold white back, although are still surprisingly well camoflaged when motionless on the rocks.

This time the tide was low and Simon was able to actually get into the landing craft. A picturesque waterfall descended on the other side of the road and small, shaggy native sheep eyed us warily: things generally looked a lot better in the sunshine.

We drove back up the mountain, with superb views over the fjord: I would recommend this drive to anyone.

After the delights of these two very diverse places, we decided to head inland – we would renew our explorations of these fjords at a later, hopefully more sunny, date.