It has been quite a week, and the trick now will be to keep it concise and not bore everyone. Last Saturday, I rose at 6 am, had breakfast and began a new life. As a minor ritual, I put on a brand new pair of boots and threw my old shoes in the waste bin. My friend John, with whom I had spent my last two nights in England, helped me to load my luggage in the car and drove me to Leeds station on the first step of this journey. The journey by air to Iceland went without hitch for the most part. Because I intend to stay here for at least 3 months, I had an obscene amount of baggage and had exceeded my 20 kg allowance by nearly 100%. By dint of some smooth talking, I managed to pay for only 10 kg in excess.
On arrival in Keflavik, I took the airport bus to Hotel Loftleidir in Reykjavik and collected the Suzuki Vitara 4x4 that had been left there for me by Bjössi. Now began the interesting part: how to find my way out of Reykjavik and get to the main highway. After driving aimlessly around the centre of the town for a while, I stopped at a petrol station to ask for directions and buy a road map. Behind me at the counter stood a very big, bearded man. Realising that my business could take some time, I invited him to step ahead and pay for his petrol.
“It’s OK”, he replied, “but I couldn’t help noticing the Thor Hammer and Valknutr you wear. Are you Asatru?”
I said that I was and asked him if he was too. He confirmed that he was, told me his name was Gunnar and said that he ran a living history group in Reykjavik called ‘The Einherjar of Reykjavik’.
“Then we already know each other via Facebook”, I exclaimed. I am known on Facebook as Christopher ‘Wednesday’ Smith! This was indeed a fortunate meeting, for Gunnar is in contact with all the Asatru people in Iceland. We exchanged telephone numbers and then he drove ahead of me to guide me to the main highway. As on my first visit to Iceland, High One had sent me a guide and friend.
“Með hálfom hleif ok með hollo keri
fekk ek mér félaga.”
This was the second friend that High One had sent me within a few days. After that, it was a short continuation to Hólmavik, the place of peace that I had discovered nearly two years previously.
My home now is at Guesthouse Borgarbraut, a delightful residence run by a couple whose names are Saevar and Elisabeth. They seem an unlikely couple to have taken on such a role, for Saevar speaks only Icelandic and Elisabeth, though she speaks quite good English, is very shy. Nevertheless, they work very hard and one could not wish to meet a friendlier or more helpful people. Thanks to them, I have a very comfortable, warm room with everything in it that I could want. As I work at my desk (retrieved from the basement at my request), I look out over the harbour and the fjord, seeing the gulls and ducks fly and swim along with the comings and goings of the fishing boats. I keep an eye out for whales, as these also sometimes venture into the sound. Immediately on the other side of the house, to the west, are the stony hills where I can walk to my heart’s content, either on the demarcated paths or off them as I choose. There is a good path of about 5 km in length, plus another kilometre back through the village, and I have walked this once already. I suspect it will become my daily ‘fitness’ walk.
Life here is very relaxed and spontaneous. One evening last week, just as I was thinking of going to bed around 22.50, Sigi (Sigurður) dropped by to ask me if I wanted to come with him to Drangnes on the other side of the fjord, to talk with someone about an archaeological project. Of course, tired though I was, I accepted this invitation and grabbed my hat and boots. The last part of our route took us through a colony of Arctic terns that screamed and dived about the car in defence of their chicks. We had to drive very slowly among these beautiful birds, especially because the smallest chicks were the same brown colour as the road. To me fell the task of opening the gate as we arrived at our destination, and I was glad of my hat as I was mobbed by the terns. Our meeting was with a man named Bergsveinn. We drank herbal tea accompanied by a shot of cognac and talked about the project. This involves experimenting with a mediaeval method of extracting walrus oil. Since the walrus is extinct in Iceland, a seal is to be used.
More of this in my next episode.
Another week has gone by and, after a good deal of travel, some parts of this country are starting to look distinctly familiar. Tineke, Ranulph and Ingrid had arrived in Reykjavik in the early hours of Saturday, 6th August and I drove down to join them that afternoon. The journey takes about 3.5 hours and treats you to an ear-popping ascent to about 2250 ft (700 metres) along a snaking mountain road. Like most roads in Iceland (except some in the Capital Area), it has only 2 lanes; add to that an unfenced, nearly sheer drop to your side in some places, adverse or excessive camber now and again, plus low cloud, strong wind and heavy rain, and you can have quite an interesting trip. At least there is a metalled surface all the way - many of the minor roads here still have gravel surfaces. Fortunately, the traffic is not very heavy outside of Reykjavik and if you encounter 4 oncoming cars in a row it feels like the rush hour. The national speed limit is 90 km/hour (56 mph). This doesn’t sound very much, but it is actually a pretty sensible limit given the quality of the roads. Most of the locals stick to it fairly closely and wait patiently to overtake. Anyone exceeding it by a large margin risks a serious accident (if they don’t get a speeding ticket first!)
It was good to see all of them again, especially as they had made a considerable effort to bring lots of ‘goodies’ for me: whisky, tobacco, warm shirts, a pair of binoculars and my specialised dictionaries.
The next day, Monday, was spent visiting the National Museum (http://www.natmus.is/english) and the Saga Museum (http://www.sagamuseum.is/enska/english.html). At the National Museum, we were welcomed by Antonio Costanza, who works as a guide there. While Tineke, Ranulph and Ingrid viewed the exhibits, Antonio showed me round those of particular significance for our shared interest in the Heathen period and then he presented me with a copy of his newly published book, ‘Hávamál: La voce di Odino’. It will be worth brushing up my Italian in order to read his comments on and critical analysis of the 164 strophes.
Tuesday was spent in relaxation and shopping for souvenirs, and on Wednesday we all set out for Holmavik. After a visit to the Museum of Witchcraft and Sorcery, we drove at 2 pm to Drangsnes to witness the archaeological experiment. Once again, the Arctic terns actively mobbed the car, but at least this time they were not confused and blinded by headlights, and the small, brown chicks were not running all over the road. Driving the Vitara down a rocky path, we spotted the gathering to our left and soon joined them.
Within about 30 minutes, the fire had burned down to charcoal and the stones were sufficiently hot. Stones and coals were raked out of the pit and then half a seal skin was laid in it with the hide to the ground and the blubber side on top. Then pieces of blubber and the hot stones were heaped upon the skin, after which another half skin was laid over the top to keep the heat in. Very soon, the fat started to sizzle and bubble and the oil ran down to the slightly deeper end of the pit, where Sigi (in mediaeval costume), ladled it into a large cauldron.
On the whole, the experiment was very successful (despite the fact that the wooden ladle broke and Sigi had to continue before the camera using a chromed, modern one). Sigi pointed out that it would be better to have a channel dug, so that the melted fat could pour directly into a vessel. I suggested that having at least one other fire pit would be necessary to provide a ready supply of freshly heated stones.
We thanked Sigi and the others for an interesting afternoon and drove back to Holmavik to have dinner with Bjössi, Signý, Ingibjorg and Sverrir.