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For the first time in a while on an international flight, we didn’t have to get up before the crack of dawn. However, we did have a red-eye that left Minneapolis at 7:30 p.m. That meant that we flew all night long. It was definitely a low-budget flight- cramped seats, two bathrooms for the rear 30 rows, and an aisle so narrow that two people could barely squeeze past each other. It was also very hot, probably 80 degrees. I asked the stewardess if they could turn the A/C up and she either didn’t ask or they ignored her. Over the course of our six-hour flight, I probably got about an hour of sleep. Par for the course
Got into Keflavik right on time and caught the shuttle to Reykjavik. Keflavik lies about 45 minutes outside of Reykjavik. The road from the airport gives a glimpse of the water and the distant mountains. Welcome to Iceland!
We had several hours to kill before our connecting flight at 4:30 pm so we decided to walk around downtown.
Reykjavik is not a huge city, just 122,000 residents and the downtown is compact and very walkable. It is mostly three and four-story apartment buildings and small restaurants and shops. It is situated on the water with beautiful views of distant snow-capped mountains. The first order of business was breakfast. I asked a local for a recommendation and it happened to be a place that we had just passed. It turned out to be right on.
We had great grilled breakfast sandwiches, coffee, and exceptional carrot cake. Right across the street from where we were eating was, of course, the Lebowski Bar. The Dude abides in Reyk! Afterward, we walked towards the water with the intention of visiting Harpa, a beautiful concert hall right on the water. But when we arrived, the whole area was cordoned off and patrolled by gun-toting military. It seems that the EU governing council was holding its annual meeting on Monday and Tuesday. Oh well.
So we looped around downtown and took a short tour of the giant cathedral that sits atop the hill in the center of town. The steeple juts up a couple of hundred feet in the air. It is definitely the centerpiece of the downtown area. It has a cavernous interior with high, vaulted ceilings and an enormous pipe organ. It would be amazing to hear the acoustics. They actually offer a tour of the tower but for $6 a head, we decided to pass.
With time to kill before we needed to head to the airport, we went back downtown and checked out some of the stores. I was surprised that there weren’t more people walking around. Reykjavik is the midpoint between Europe and the US and encourages flyers with connecting flights to stop and spend up to a week before continuing on their journeys. It’s also a short flight from either continent so I expected a lot of tourists. But the downtown was not overcrowded. It’s relatively quiet with little car traffic. It’s actually pleasant to stroll around. By now we were beyond exhausted, so we headed back to the bus station to catch a ride to the domestic airport. From the bus station, we could see the domestic airport so we were debating whether to walk or take a cab. We consulted with the bus station personnel. When we first arrived they told us that even though the airport was close, it wasn’t walkable and that we would need a cab. Now we decided to make double sure that we couldn’t walk and the person behind the desk again said no, but told us that a shuttle could take us there. Relieved, we waited out front for that bus. After about 20 minutes, the bus arrived and the driver assured us that he would get us where we wanted to go. Five minutes later we were dropped at the Iceland Air terminal. It didn’t take long to discover that our airline, Eagle Air, didn’t fly out of this airport. So once again we were off in search of yet another airport. We flagged down a taxi and were shortly and correctly delivered to the Eagle Air terminal. We were three hours early but that gave us a chance to have a snack of meat and cheese, a little coffee, and a nap!
We had the whole little terminal to ourselves for a couple of hours. Eagle Airlines seems to be a family-run operation. An older man came out from an office as we were arriving, greeting us. Just as we were thinking that he was just a gregarious Icelander, he told us that he was the owner of the airline. Another woman appeared a while later with many ideas of things that we should see and do during our stay. Still, with a few hours to kill, I actually managed to shut my eyes and nod off for a few minutes here and there. Our tranquility was broken when a large family with some noisy kids stormed into the waiting room. A short time later we were all checked in and filing into our plane. It was a small plane for our 40-minute flight, but full. I found it funny that each seat came equipped with a built-in flip-down cup holder and an ashtray. At that point, I tried not to think about how old our aircraft might be. We got airborne quickly and had a very smooth flight. We had mountains and snow on the left side of the plane and ocean on the right.
We landed and disembarked into our tiny terminal at Hofn. It looked like a simple in-and-out. Not so fast. The family that we had flown with was getting a rental car like us. There was no office open in the airport I guess because it was past five, but there were keypads on the wall. It seemed like self-service. We quickly found out that it wouldn’t be easy. After several minutes and obvious consternation with a faceless entity on the other end of the line, it was clear that this part of our day was not going to go smoothly.
We were supposed to enter our confirmation number into a keypad which would then open a small trap door exposing a car key. When it became clear that the number that was on their confirmation page didn’t work, we started to catch the drift of what was going on. When the father of the family had completed their transaction they were kind enough to share the phone number of the secret agent on the other end who had finally made their transaction happen. After a somewhat frantic few minutes on the phone, while they basically asked for all of our information all over again (like it had never happened), Susan got the code and we were on our way. Fortunately, the Milk Factory, where we would spend our first night, was just down the road. It was cool outside and the wind was howling. We checked in and went in search of food. The guy who greeted us at the front desk, Johan, immediately recommended Pakhuss. I had read reviews of the place, but it would have been hard to match the reality of the place. It is right on the water and a cool, rustic place. The original building had been constructed of scrap lumber from shipping containers. The interior is wood-paneled and comfortable. The tables are still made of the original wood with the names from the crates stamped on them.
The food was really good. I wasn’t extremely hungry so opted for a starter of feta cheese with raspberry sauce. It’s also the first time I’ve ever seen "horse" on a menu! Makes sense. Just because Americans don’t eat horse doesn’t mean it’s not good. Still, it was a little off-putting so I’ll save the horsie for later. Filling and sublime. I also had a gin and tonic made with Icelandic gin. Susan and Nancy had fresh caught cod with potatoes and carrots which was amazing.
After eating, we stopped back at the Milk Factory to put on our really warm clothes and drove to Vesterhorn. Vesterhorn is a distinctive mountain that comes abruptly right out of the water. Between the mountain and the nearby ocean are acres of black sand dunes and beach. The road hugs the coast here with the mountain on one side and the ocean on the other.
On the ocean side, there are rugged, rocky fields that are home to a large herd of horses. The sun was setting so the light was perfect for photography. We went to the end of the road where there is a parking lot and store for campers. There is also a “Viking village” that was constructed right along the shore complete with a Viking ship. It had been built for some movie or TV show a while back. It has been abandoned for a while but is still there as a tourist photo opportunity. Just now it was late so we decided to visit the next day. In the meantime, the sky had cleared and the slanting late light was beautiful. We slowly made our way back. We shot photos continuously until it got too cold and we lost the light. Some amazing horse pictures.
These guys have dramatic long manes to keep them warm. They were quite curious and friendly and approached us conveniently so that we could take dozens of pictures. Juli I think, got tired of the frequent stops, and struck out on her own, walking ahead of us. After a good hour, we headed back to the hotel. It is quickly becoming clear that between the four of us, we will have hundreds of pictures to enjoy and share.
The Milk Factory is a really cool facility. It had originally been a real, working dairy farm. It is modern, clean and very comfortable. The Milk Factory, like almost every domicile and restaurant that we have been in, is quite warm which is very welcome after being out in the elements. Our room has two floors, a bottom floor with a queen bed, a bathroom with ample closet space, and a loft with two twin beds. The walls are white. The windows, only on one side, reach almost ten feet high. It is very cool and comfortable.
The guest houses that you see from the highway, and there are many, all look similar, like they are housing modules that are plunked down on the local farms. The families that heretofore had just raised sheep to make a living have gotten into the hosting business in a big way.
We were all exhausted after our long day of travel and no sleep. Nancy turned in and, after a glass of wine, so did we.