Iceland Adventures – Westfjords – Látrabjarg Cliffs &
Rauðasandur – 6 km - 8/24/15
“Ferry Baldur sails all year long over Breiðafjörður Bay
from Stykkishólmur to
Brjánslækur.” Which of you can read that aloud correctly?
Fortunately, you don’t have to. You can just drive your rental car onto the
boat. Which we did. (If you are planning a trip, the pricing is complicated,
depends on the size of your vehicle.
Check here.)
The 2.5-hour ferry ride saved some time and offered a unique experience crossing the bay. We grabbed comfortable seats inside the salon area and took turns venturing out into yet another cold, blustery day. Although we had brought food for lunch, Mike was happy to get pizza from the onboard café. (Mike is happiest when he can buy a hot meal.)
The 2.5-hour ferry ride saved some time and offered a unique experience crossing the bay. We grabbed comfortable seats inside the salon area and took turns venturing out into yet another cold, blustery day. Although we had brought food for lunch, Mike was happy to get pizza from the onboard café. (Mike is happiest when he can buy a hot meal.)
Yes, it is daytime and, yes, that is the sun
We passed this small island with its lonely house. A crew member we were talking with explained
that his family owns it. It’s available
as emergency shelter for anyone who needs it in bad weather.
A midpoint stop crossing the bay is Flatey, the only island
with year-round inhabitants. We didn’t
plan a stop, but many people do, taking the first ferry of the day and catching
a later one to continue on to the Westfjords.
No cars are allowed on Flatey, but you can send your car ahead and it
will be unloaded from the ferry and parked waiting for you on the
mainland. (Read more about Flatey here and you will want to see it for yourself.)
When we drove off the ferry at Brjánslækur, we turned left
onto Route 62 (the only road), headed to the tip of the Látrabjarg Peninsula to
walk on the Látrabjarg Cliffs, the westernmost point of Europe. The small road skirted along the southern
shore and then cut across to join even smaller Route 612, which continued along
the northern shore of the peninsula, eventually leaving pavement behind for
teeth-rattling hard packed dirt and gravel.
In places the road hugged the steep cliffs so tightly that I felt the
urge to lean to the middle of the car to keep us from plunging into the
fjord. We passed an incredibly narrow
air strip located between the road and the water.
The Bjargtangar lighthouse at Látrabjarg Cliffs
Látrabjarg Cliffs is famous for its abundant bird life,
cormorants, fulmars, gulls, kittiwakes, razorbills, and what we came to
see: Atlantic puffins, the most populous
bird in Iceland. Sadly, we were a couple
of weeks too late for them and saw only their prodigious droppings along the
cliff walls. Paul spotted one black bird
with a white belly, perhaps the last one to leave for winter habitat in the
waters off the coasts of Greenland and Newfoundland.
Getting that Cliffs of Moher (Ireland) vibe
Walking along the Látrabjarg Cliffs
Látrabjarg Cliffs
Missing the puffins was anti-climatic, but still here we
are in Iceland! The rawness of the air,
the crashing of the waves against the rocks, the complete absence of warning
signs and guard rails that plague similar sites in the U.S. were
thrilling.
Mike and me having a look-see at the cliff edge
Walking back toward the lighthouse
Back in the car, we made a brief stop at Breiðavik
Guesthouse near Breiðavik’s golden sand beach, considered one of Iceland’s best
beaches (photo taken from a moving car).
During our planning we had considered staying here, but opted for the
town of Patreksfjördur as a better stopping point to end our day.
The church at Breiðavik
Backtracking along Route 612 and turning right onto what we
decided was Route 614 (no sign, just another rutted dirt road), we felt our way
along to Rauðasandur, an exquisite red sand beach highlighted by Lonely
Planet. Parked near a homestead
with the obligatory church.
With the requisite cemetery around back.
A field of giant marshmallows (rolled hay bales)
Someone had fun making trail signs across their field toward
the beach
Although there were footprints from other travelers,
the beach was deserted as we wandered up and down, picking up purple and black seashells. Walking along any beach draws you further and
further along, and here the vastness of the scene, hopeless to capture
adequately, the colors of the sand, the smoky clouds obscuring the cliffs,
combined to stop time. Such a
spectacular experience.
And then seeing sheep on the beach sent it all over the
top.
We tore ourselves away and headed toward Patreksfjördur and
our cute home for the night, one bedroom downstairs, two upstairs, one full
bath with a washer/dryer.
A tiny kitchen
And a cozy living room (with wifi!)
Looking out our front door
We enjoyed a late supper of vegetable quiche and more white
ale at Stúkuhúsid, a lovely coffeehouse-type restaurant on the waterfront that I
found later in the Lonely Planet guidebook too.
(This isn’t because we are geniuses, it’s because towns in the
Westfjords are so small that dining options are few, but fortunately are very
good.) Took this photo from the deck of
the restaurant.
From Stúkuhúsid I called Jim for the first time on the trip;
it felt great to touch base, trying to share some of our experiences. Afterwards the others dropped me off at our
house while they went to restock at the only grocery store and wash our very
dirty rental SUV. I really enjoyed a
little down time alone. Tomorrow it’s
the back seat again!
“I often think of that rare fulfilling joy
when you are in the presence of some wonderful alignment of events. Where the
light, the colour, the shapes, and the balance all interlock so perfectly that
I feel truly overwhelmed by the wonder of it.” ~Charlie Waite
