Stykkishólmskirkja

On Wednesday morning, I visited Stykkishólmskirkja. The church is on a hill from which you can see most of Stykkishólmur:

The location is so imposing that I wonder why it hadn't been used for a church before - the old church is on Aðalgata. The new church was consecrated in 1990. 

This short video (http://tinyurl.com/qxrayux - not taken by me) shows the interior of the church, including a painting by Kristín Gunnlaugsdóttir of a very Icelandic-looking Mary and Jesus. 

I stayed in Akureyri last night because the bus from Stykkishólmur arrived after the last bus to Húsavík left. After getting a takeaway fish curry for lunch, I've gone into a hostel near the bus station to borrow their cutlery and WiFi.  

Stykkishólmur Eldfjallasafn

Between picking up my prescriptions on Tursday afternoon and getting the bus yesterday evening I had some time to spend in Stykkishólmur. The first thing I did was visit the town's volcano museum. 

The museum is housed in the old cinema building and contains the personal collections (both scientific and artistic) of Haraldur Sigurðsson, Iceland's top volcanologist. There was a TV in a gallery above the main exhibition, where visitors could watch documentaries on Haraldur's work on volcanoes in Iceland and around the world. I was directed to start there by the guide, so I headed upstairs. I selected the chapter focussing on his and his colleagues' efforts to predict, document and deal safely with the Eyjafjallajökull eruption in 2010.

I returned to the lower floor, intending to start looking at the exhibition. I don't know if the guide recognised me as a fellow nerd or he just didn't get many visitors, but I was summoned over to his computer to look at vedur.is (the Icelandic Met Office website). The guide very excitedly showed me maps of different regions of Iceland, marked with the location of every earth tremor from the past 48 hours. Of particular interest was the map of the Vatnajökull region, showing the frequent tremors indicating there might be an eruption relatively soon. They had been centred under the glacier, but have been moving slowly northward, away from the glacier. This means the eruption is less likely to occur under ice, making it less likely that a large ash cloud will be produced. 

After this I was taken around the museum, being shown geological maps, seismographs and lava samples; each accompanied by an in depth explanation which made the exhibition much more interesting than it had first appeared. The guide did not show the same enthusiasm for the many pieces of artwork depicting volcanoes (which I have to say I was glad about) although the he did briefly draw my attention to an original Andy Warhol. 

At the end of my whirlwind tour of geology, seismology and volcanology in Iceland, the guide me Haraldur's card 'in case you have any hard questions'. I now feel compelled to think of some. Maybe I should ask why he thinks Eyjafjallajökull's 'sister volcano' Katla has not yet erupted. Katla usually erupts every 50 years or so, and usually shortly after Eyjafjallajökull. Its last eruption was in 1918, so one is long overdue. 

Adventures in the Icelandic healthcare system

This is just a post to explain what has been going on over the past week or so. Also, what's the point of ending up in hospital if you don't tell the cool story that results?

I'd been going down with a cough which was getting progressively worse until the hostel staff had to drive me to the health centre during Eurovision because I was so short of breath and in pain. The doctor immediately concluded I had bronchitis and was also concerned that the infection had spread and caused pericarditis because of the amount of pain I was in. So I had to have an ECG, meaning that I was supposed to lie completely still and relaxed with 12 electrodes stuck on my chest and abdomen, because muscle contractions would spoil the reading. Unsurprisingly, it took a few tries to get a useable reading; but it turned out that there was nothing wrong with my heart. The doctor gave me co-codamol to take for the pain and said that all I could do for the bronchitis was rest and drink plenty of water. 

Cut to Monday evening, and my breathing and coughing sounds so bad over the phone that mum recruits the daughter of a friend of a friend (who lives in Stykkishólmur) via Facebook to rescue me and bring me to the hospital. Once admitted, I was given salbutamol through a breathing mask and intravenous cortisone (having the cannula put in and stuff flushed through it is one of the most uncomfortable things I have ever experienced) to reduce the inflammation in my lungs; as well as an azithromycin tablet in case the cause was bacterial. As cortisone is produced by the body in preparation for the fight-or-flight reflex and salbutamol affects the body in some of the same ways as adrenaline, this made me very jittery. 

At about 11pm, once the doctor decided I'd had my vital signs taken enough times for one evening, he offered what he described to me as a 'relax pill' - after some concerted Googling of the imprint it turned out to be oxazepam (a compound related to Valium). I fell asleep not long afterwards. 

In the morning I was given porridge with fruit salad, another azithromycin tablet, more steroids (prednisolone tablets, thankfully nothing more intravenously) and more salbutamol to inhale: 

(The thing on my head is just a Buff I'd been wearing on Monday to keep my hair from being annoying and I'd forgotten to take it off after being admitted and before I fell asleep. The bandage on my hand is covering the cannula. I look weird because my face is swollen as a side effect of the steroids.)

After having my vitals taken (and cannula removed) and speaking to the doctor again; then showing my passport and EHIC and sorting out paperwork, I was discharged at around midday. I was given the remaining tablet in my azithromycin course to finish, and a prescription for a week-long tapered course of prednisolone and a salbutamol inhaler in case the bronchitis gets worse again. So far I've been fine, but the doctor advised me not to go anywhere too far from medical care for a while, just in case, so I've had to change my plans again. 

Tomorrow I will bring the blog up to date with a post about the volcano museum and cathedral in Stykkishólmur. 

Hólmavík Days 1 and 3

I've decided to put yesterday into its own post, which I will put up later today or tomorrow. It is going to end up being quite long. 

I arrived in Hólmavík on Sunday evening, walked a mile or so from the bus stop into the centre of the town and up a 23% hill (yes, I measured it because it turns out there is an app for that) to find the hotel. The door was locked, so I followed the instructions on the door and pressed the call button and explained that I was booked in. 10 minutes later, the owner of the hotel arrived on her bike to unlock the front door and check me in. 

I spent most of Monday and today wandering up and down the hills and taking photos. There are surprisingly few birds around, although there are plenty of eiders and herring gulls by the harbour. 

Here are some of my photos:

The much-requested 'nice view from window' shot. 

This is a panorama shot from halfway up a hill. Everything from the bus stop and supermarket outside Hólmavík to the church, town centre and harbour is visible. 

Some chickens were wandering about in someone's front garden. So far, they have been the only birds cooperative enough to take a decent photo. 

Hólmavík Day 2 (Magic)

Hólmavík is the largest town in Strandir - the easternmost coast of the Westfjords. Strandir is known to have been the final stronghold of people who worshipped the pre-Christian gods after the conversion of Iceland and it was also thought to be the home of the most skilful practitioners of Icelandic witchcraft.

The Eddas and Sagas describe two categories of magic: galdr (incantations) and seiðr. The etymology of the term seiðr is uncertain, but it is possible that the word has Finnic origins and the Norse learnt the practice from Sámi noaidis. Alternatively, seiðr could be linked to Old English and Old High German words related to spinning string or cord. This would explain the use of a distaff by seiðr practitioners and the fact that nearly all practitioners were female. It also connects seiðr to beliefs about the nornir; supernatural women thought to be weaving each man's wyrd (roughly equivalent to fate or destiny). 

It was possible for a man to learn seiðr, but this would leave him open to accusations of ergi (effeminacy/unmanliness). According to the Icelandic Grágás Laws, ergi was one of only three accusations for which the accused was allowed to kill in retaliation.  If the accused did not challenge the accuser, the insult was considered proven - the punishment for ergi was full outlawry. 

However, Óðinn (chief of the gods) learnt seiðr from Freyja when she joined the Æsir. But apart from the taunting he receives from Loki in Lokasenna neither Óðinn's social standing among the gods nor the high regard he was held in by his worshippers are altered. It is worth noting that both Lokasenna and the Grágás Laws were written after the conversion of Iceland. 

With one type of magic regarded as gender-neutral and the other predominantly female, it is surprising that all but one of the witches burnt at the stake in Iceland were men, contrary to the trend across the rest of Europe. Of course, between the conversion at the end of the tenth century and the first witch burning in 1625, magic had changed significantly. The practice of seiðr dwindled and disappeared, presumably alongside the loss of belief in Óðinn, Freyja and the Nornir. However, although Heathen religion was outlawed in 1016, references to the old gods and symbols such as Mjölnir persisted in Icelandic witchcraft and mentions of the Christian devil are relatively scarce. 

The Museum of Witchcraft and Sorcery in Hólmavík exhibits (replica) examples of every magical symbol used in Icelandic witchcraft, such as this:

As well as more involved spells, such as mounting the head of a ling (an ugly looking fish) on a pole facing out to sea in order to raise storms:

I tried to work out what the inscription on the piece of wood in the ling's mouth said, but some of the symbols aren't recognisably part of any runic alphabet I know or could look up. 

My favourite part of the museum was a stone bowl, discovered during the extension of a summer home in Goðdalur, a valley to the north of Hólmavík. The locals immediately noticed its similarities to descriptions of bowls used in blót (Heathen sacrifice), where the blood of a sacrificed animal would be drained into a bowl and then sprinkled on the participants. It is the only example of a blót bowl that has been found in Iceland. 

Incredibly, unlike all the replicas and models in the museum, the bowl was just sitting on a cushion, without any glass screens or Do Not Touch signs. On the opposite wall was a poster from a presentation to the American Academy of Forensic Sciences, where a group of researchers showed that the bowl had been used to contain blood, making it almost certain that it was used in blót rituals. 

This is an image of the bowl after the application of fluorescein, showing bloodstains which had been there for hundreds of years. 

Borgarnes Day 2

In a public park in Borgarnes is the mound in which Egil buried first his father Skalla-Grímr and later his drowned son Böðvar. I went to see it this morning. On top of the mound is a stone inscribed with Younger Fuþark runes reading

 skallakrimr*. Unfortunately I don't know when the stone was carved and placed there. 

*In the Younger Fuþark, voiced and unvoiced consonant pairs (such as b and p; g and k) share the same transliteration. 

My bus to Hólmavík doesn't leave until 5pm and there's now a 21mph North wind blowing outside, so I'm waiting inside the hostel with sagas and blueberry skyr. 

Borgarnes Day 1

The town and peninsula of Borgarnes are named after the farmstead Borg, established nearby by Skalla-Grímr Kveldúlfsson. Skalla-Grímr had fled to Iceland after threatening King Haraldr of Norway with vengeance for his brother's murder. 

The establishment of Borg is described in Egil's Saga, and so in Borgarnes there are a pair of exhibitions - the Settlement Centre and the Egil's Saga Centre. Between them they explain what life was like for the early settlers throughout Iceland, and detail everything that can be known from Egil's Saga about the history of Borg and the surrounding region. It finishes with the tale of Skalla-Grímr's as yet undiscovered hoard, hidden before his death to keep his only remaining son Egil from inheriting it, due to Egil's refusal to hand over a gift of two chests of silver from King Æðelstan of England. These were intended as a tribute gift for Skalla-Grímr after his eldest son Þórólfr's death while fighting in Æðelstan's army. Egil wanted to throw the silver into the crowds at the Alþingi (parliament) to cause havoc at the gathering, but was eventually persuaded to simply bury it at an unknown location near Mosfellsbær. 

I must be having the nerdiest gap year of all time. 

It has been overcast, dark and drizzling for most of the day here so I have no photos of Icelandic scenery or birds to show. I can show you a picture of my new phone case: 

The back is - I think - birch wood, and it has an old Icelandic symbol called Vegvísir etched into it - but I'll save the explanation of that for a few days' time when I've been to the witchcraft museum in Hólmavík. 

I also saw Icelandic Moss syrup for sale and I had to buy a jar to try it - boringly, it tastes more or less the same as dark honey. However, as there seems to be free porridge oats in every hostel in Iceland, I'm sure I will use it. 

Four hours to kill in Reykjavík airport

However much I try to avoid asking strangers for directions, it's impossible to look lost in Iceland for more than 30 seconds before a stranger in a 4x4 or a van pulls up and asks where I'd like them to drive me. It's not actually as terrifying as it sounds. I found myself on the wrong side of Reykjavík airport, facing a walk of a few miles round to the entrance after already walking for half an hour from the hostel in the city centre. I was rescued by an Icelandic courier driver. 

After the standard 'Where are you from and what are you doing in Iceland?' conversation, I explained that I was travelling before going to university in October, to study biochemistry. 'I always hated chemistry!' he exclaimed. 'I'm a physicist. I had to take some classes in chemistry but there's something about Avogadro's number that I just hate!' I wondered to myself how anyone could hate Avogadro's number. After he'd told me about his difficulties choosing a project for his doctorate, his decision to leave academia and become a hiking guide and his career change to courier driver, we arrived at the airport. 

I've roughly halved the weight of my rucksack by offloading the now useless camping gear into a luggage locker. I need to catch two buses to get to Borgarnes - unfortunately, the next bus doesn't leave until 3pm, so I have four (well, three and a half now) hours to wait. Finding things to do in an airport is not usually a problem, but the Reykjavík domestic airport terminal is one room, which contains a check-in desk, a cafe and a baggage reclaim belt. 

Akureyri Day 2 and a Change of plan.

I spent my second day in Akureyri mainly walking along the coast path, perfecting my pronunciation of góðan daginn (despite what it looks like, it is only pronounced with about 2 syllables) to Icelanders I came across on the way. I took a few photos, but this is the best one:

Today I took the bus from Akureyri to Reykjavík, so that I can offload my camping gear into the left luggage lockers at Reykjavík airport. I'm going to essentially do the first part of my itinerary backwards, then fly back to Reykjavík again in time to catch my flight to Nuuk. When I come back from Greenland I'll pick it up again and hopefully the weather in Norway will be good enough to use it as planned.  

The bus to Reykjavík took six and a half hours, which included a half hour stop at a petrol station in Staður during which everyone, including the driver, got out and bought lunch. As well as selling roughly the same food as petrol stations in the UK (but with dried fish instead of sausage rolls), there was also a free to use microwave and sandwich toaster. 

I'm staying in a hostel in Reykjavík tonight, then heading off to Borgarnes tomorrow morning. 

Akureyri day 1

It turns out that attempting to wild camp in Iceland during the coldest spring for 50 years is not a particularly bright idea. I ended up getting a lift for the remaining mile or so into Akureyri in the snow at half ten at night. I spent a few minutes in a car with three Icelanders who first told me about their English holiday in Oxford, and then tried out their own interview questions (If a lion liked art, what sort of art would it like?) on me when they found out I was going there to university. 

The unusually cold weather is set to continue for another few weeks, so I will be finding hostels to stay in rather than camping. It's disappointing, but wearing all my clothes inside a sleeping bag and still shivering removed most of the enjoyment from camping. 

I've been spending the day in the town centre today, exploring. This is a panorama shot from a bench on Strandgata, where I was sitting reading Egils Saga on my Kindle. 

Icelandic airports

I'm currently bundled up in a tent just outside Akureyri. I got here on a flight from Rekjavik domestic airport, where I was allowed to board the plane without showing any ID or passing any security checks. 

Once I arrived I had to master putting the tent up in snow and wind, which of course totally stopped as soon as I'd got inside. Later on, once I've warmed up I will be trying to get my stove to work and hopefully take some pictures.