Tag Archives: West Fjords


It is good to remember that a waterfall, such as the great Dynjandi, is just a fall. That’s to say, it’s a space where the lifting and holding energy of solid ground becomes its opposite, the energy called a fjall. A fall here is not a verb. It is a space, which creates the verb. To get a handle on this energy, its good to stand at the top of a waterfall, and feel oneself falling with it. The earth falls from beneath one’s feet with vertigo.

Now you are in Iceland. It does for you what it doesn’t do for water: it catches you and holds you. It is that moment when the keel of a boat rises and stops swaying in the sea, the landing when it is held. Don’t fight it. It only becomes your story when you don’t fight it.

When you live on the beach, well, that’s nice.

But if you have a church on the beach, you build a wall. That’s nice, too.

A bit dark, though.  So it is. But not half so dark as the church!

Kind of a repetition of the motif of the cliff, really, but, heck, in this place, even the sea is a cliff wall.


The land has its way with us.

Wild Golf

Right. So maybe you see some tractor ruts. That’s tourist thinking, eh.

This is a city in the West Fjords. Yes, that’s the way they look out here. But, more than that…. this is the þingeyri golf course. Yeah, yeah, in Canada where I live, golf is a gentrified sport, reducing indigenous and agricultural land to suntans and beer. In Iceland, it’s a bit different. I like that. A lot.

Note the amenities. Mowing crew.

Spotters. Lookie-loos.

Water trap.

Clubhouse. Air conditioned.

Volcanic grunge. Very challenging.

9 holes, par 78. Watch that ankle. Here’s the first aid team. 

Lumpy bits. But lovely.

Really lumpy.

Real lovely. A bit soggy in bits.

But a great city view.


Lose your heart in the West Fjords. You won’t regret it. Fore!