Trolls have almost human faces. Almost.
And long tongues that snake out underfoot.
That fall over the cliff and make the sea.
Neskaupstaðir Nature Conservancy
That’s right. The sea is troll spit, full of fish and dreams.
Some farms that no one lives on anymore are still being farmed for hay. Note the fine tractor road here in Reydisfjörður.
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!
Out in the nature reserve in Neskaupstaðir (just go right to the end of town), the beach below the trail is gorgeous.
And alive with Eiðar ducks and their ducklings.

Surfing. Scrabbling in the backwash for good things to eat.
In a good wave, the ducklings get tossed a metre into the air, tumbled head to heels, then dragged a metre under water again, only to pop back out.
This is beautiful to watch. For the ducklings, it’s survival. When a skua comes to take one, the whole flock of ducks imitates this scramble. It’s life or death.
I’ll show you that scramble tomorrow.