Cod in the act
Northern Iceland is cold, but the welcome is warm... and locals make an impression
No one knew how it came to this: our host dancing about with a knife in his hand and a giant cod eye in his mouth. But it may have had something to do with the home-brew he’d been pouring into shot glasses from an unmarked bottle.
The fermented shark we’d eaten – buried for months to give it that distinctive ammonia taste – may have had a part to play too.
But it was probably down to the fact he, like every other Icelander I’d met so far, was so fiercely proud of his country he wanted to make our trip something we’d always remember.
He just decided to do it by cutting out a giant cod eye and putting it in his mouth while plying us with booze. At noon.
But in doing all that he summed up the best word to describe Iceland: memorable. And I will certainly never forget that rotting shark.
We were exploring Northern Iceland from the country’s second main town, Akureyri.
Superbreak runs chartered flights straight to its windswept airport, which lies on the edge of a great fjord and puts not only Lake Myvatn but, if you’re lucky, the Northern Lights on your doorstep.
We made the Hotel Kea our first stop after flying in, but you can also go via Reykjavik and jump on an internal flight if you want to spend some time in the capital.
The north is the less trodden tourist route – and in the few days I spent there I saw stunning sights topped off by the aurora.
I bathed in spas fired by geothermal energy, hiked up to frozen waterfalls, and saw sulphur pits that – genuinely – took your breath away.
I saw humpback whales breach in front of me in a fjord so full of fish that every time I cast my rod I made a catch within seconds.
We travelled around and stayed in state-of-the-art wooden hotels such as the Siglo in Siglufjorour where you can’t hear a sound – even when you’re in the outdoor hot tub.
But for me, most of all it was the people that will live in the memory. Never will you meet folk more proud of where they are from.
Elvar Reykjalin for example – the guy with the cod eye – was a fisherman who took over the family salted cod business.
He then added whale-watching excur-
sions, factory tours and a restaurant where latenight parties involve the whole community. He is also proud of his horses: Icelandic ponies are short in stature but are hardy souls who happily live outside in the harsh cold and are famed for their endurance. Elvar told us their differing names and characters as we patted them in a swirling wind. This was a theme to be repeated. A few days later we found ourselves in Simon’s home – and we were covered in huskies. Simon (really Saemundur, but he just wanted to make it easier for us to pronounce) like Elvar before him was incredibly content with the card he’d been dealt in life. He’d already taken us on a
tour of icy waterfalls, secret swimming caves carved into the rock and magma fields said to be where trolls lived. But all through it he talked of his 18 huskies.
We were interested too, so Simon, an engineer from Reykjavik who fell in love with the north, offered to let us meet the pack he uses for sledge rides.
A half-hour husky love-in ensued before he drove us back to our hotel – and we got another surprise. Say “Iceland” to people, and unless they think six chicken dippers for €1, they’ll mention the Northern Lights.
Often it can take all night to hunt them down, but we drove for 10 minutes out of Akureyri to escape the light pollution, and there they were.
Strips of light that cross the sky; look long enough you’ll see them dance and some of the group were crying with joy as they ticked off a lifetime ambition. And as Simon drove us home, they appeared again – bigger and brighter than before. Just another bonus from a country full of surprises. Over in Arkogssandur we visited a hipster’s dream, the Kaldi brewery. Made with water so fresh they have to add things to it for brewing, it’s little known in Britain for one reason. Even though bearded brewmaster Siggi Olafsson has been trying to export for years, it’s so popular it sells out before it gets near the airport. With exporting off the agenda, they created a beer spa, where the pureness of the ale does wonders for the skin as you relax in a wooden barrel. There are other less appealing but equally memorable aspects of Iceland. Let’s not sugarcoat it. It’s (cod) eyewateringly expensive. Even simple things like a wooden key ring can cost up to £10 (that gift did not get bought). Nothing is cheap – the drawback of a wonderful country which has the people to match. But aren’t those memories worth just that little bit more?