Strutting the Stuff: A Day Out with the Kids on the Greenland Sea
The road along the coast behind the farm Borg races on past the Cross on the cape that keeps the ogre at bay, on to the puffins in Borgarfjörður Eystri, and back.
Few stop anymore to walk in this emerald, or to see the path this water makes as it hides itself, as all creatures from the other world do, on to test the walls of the houses of men. It is the greenest fjord in Iceland. This image is made from the old Stapavik trail, the right way to come upon it, unless you come by boat, of course. Imagine the first long boat that touched this beach, and the people that stepped ashore in wonder. They are your ancestors as soon as you get out of the car. And then what? Well, friend, then you are lost. And then you are found.
Others have gone wild, although they are still farms and can be claimed again. This one, in Neskaupstaðir, is accessible only by foot. A boat looks out of the question.
I bet there are eiðars, though!
Most visitors to Iceland land at Keflavik Airport, just north of this beautiful landscape, and then race northwest to Reykjavik, missing out on the opportunity to hear the land speak.
The Icelanders have arranged it this way. Have you ever wondered why?
Reykjanes is calling!
This next one is trying to blend in with the sea at the same time. All those waves, eh.
That’s how it’s done. And if someone says your head is as hard as a rock, ha, that would be, like, a double compliment!
Not much different than a knot of broken fishing nets and cast-off plastic knocking against the knees of kelp-eating sheep, really.
Some die. Is this view not good enough?
Is this one not good enough?
What about this? So bad you need to die to get a different one?
We’d rather you were alive, really. Really. Besides, if you just turn around, you can see almost forever.
Then we could all go back and grill a lamb or something, drink some lava beer and have a great good time.
Well, ok, maybe not that.