Trolling Around Troll Peninsula

The north of Iceland is very often the most overlooked region when it comes to tourism. Various guidebooks often suggest this is the leg of the Ring Road road trip one may want to skip if they are short in time. Being a bit of a contrarian, I am intrigued by that popular opinion and decided to check out this part of Iceland. While Northern Iceland is a vast territory, it seems like the detour around Troll Penninsula (Tröllaskagi) will offer the best sample of the best of the region. It certainly helps that Rick Steve’s guidebook dedicated a chapter to Troll Penninsula. Given how well-trotted Iceland is nowadays, I was excited to explore this less-traveler corner of the country.

For this blog post, I would like to expand the Troll Peninsula's physical boundary to include the village Varmahlíð in the west to the city of Akureyri to the east. It is a convenient detour from Highway 1, known as the famous” Ring Road.” Despite its fjord-like topography, the Troll Peninsula is surprisingly manageable, and it took only two and a half hours to cover the distance.

Varmahlíð & Glaumbær

Per the guidebook’s recommendations, we did our Ring Road trip clockwise, and this was the first leg of our road trip. So it was all too ironic that we were exhausted when we reached Varmahlíð. To call this place would be a little bit too charitable. With a population of a mere 140, the village’s claim of fame is the town’s impeccably restored turf church, Víðimýrarkirkja. This enigmatic church is located off a quiet road by an adorable farmhouse. According to nearby signage, the church originally dated back over a thousand years and was rebuilt several times in the past millennium. Today’s church was a 1934 reconstruction out of salvaged wood due to a chronic shortage of timber in the country.

Beautifully restored turf church in Varmahlíð.

Iceland’s former president Kristján Eldjárn, also the grandfather of comedian Ari Eldjárn, once said that the turf church was one of the most clear-cut and beautiful relics of old Icelandic architecture. Some consider Víðimýrarkirkja the most beautiful; it was not difficult to see why. Despite its basic construction, the details in woodworking are superb. The tip of the gable is ornamented with motifs reminiscent of the Viking longship. The black siding with the red window casing of the green window adds to a sense of mystery. This being my first visit to a turf church, I was quick to be disappointed that we came here just half an hour past its closing time at 6 pm. It is also not too difficult to peek through the window to appreciate its one-room interior. It is said that many of its original artifacts are now exhibited in the National Museum of Iceland. But its 16th-century altarpiece still remains in the church for daily worship.

For anyone interested in sustainability, turf churches may be one of the earliest examples of sustainable architecture. Because the turf and its sod roof have to be maintained and periodically replaced, it is quite a labor-intensive building nowadays. I was quite surprised by their longevity and widespread, especially across rural areas. Asides from churches, sod architecture are often common as farm sheds that provide refuge for livestock. Víðimýrarkirkja is among the fourteen turf structures on Iceland’s tentative list for UNESCO World Heritage Site. Just ten minutes away from Víðimýrarkirkja is another of the listed structures: the turf house at Glaumbær Folk Museum.

Considered the best ethnographic museum in Iceland, Glaumbær Folk Museum earns the coveted three-star rating in Rick Steve’s guidebook. It is the largest and best-preserved of all the historic farm estates. Inhabited until 1947, the present farm buildings are said to be built on top of an earlier farmstead, Guðríður Þorbjarnardóttir, a pioneer Viking woman who was believed to be the first European to give birth in North America. She and her husband are also known to be among the first Icelanders to convert to Christianity after their pilgrimage to Rome.

The highlight of the museum was supposed to be a six-gable sod house, which is actually all connected in the interior as one single room. But we wouldn’t know, given that it was an hour past the opening hours. Even though we were only about 40 minutes away that evening, I knew I had no time to return tomorrow. I was just quite disappointed with myself. Given the guidebook says that the ground is free to wander around without paying the admission fee, I have to admit that I was quite tempted to climb the sod wall. But, of course, Brian was way too proper to do that.

Hólar

Since this corner of Iceland does not receive much tourism, we decided to stay in a private room listed on Airbnb. Having used Airbnb a dozen times or so, that was our first time staying in a private room of the host. Typically, we would have selected a whole place for ourselves. While private accommodations were available in the areas, they were all in the range of 25,000 ISK a night. So when I saw a well-reviewed private room listing for only ISK 10,800 ISK, I jumped on it. Because we were quite introverts, we were a little nervous about staying in a private room. With excellent reviews on Airbnb, I was quite confident of the choice.

Amazing view of the valley from the front door of Nanna’s house.

Because it was rural Iceland, street addresses and Google Maps were not useful. With heavy fog and a darkening sky, we were keen to get to Airbnb as soon as possible. Following the instruction of our host, Nanna Viktoría, we drove deep into the valley past the village of Hólar. As we drove further in, we were pretty in awe of the beautiful landscape around us. Along the way were numerous horse farms and free-roaming sheep. Eventually, we saw a little red house up the hill and were excited to find it finally. Nanna’s husband, Kristján, answered the door. We didn’t spend much time conversing as we rushed to dinner at Skagafjörður, 25 minutes away. And by the time we got back, they were already fast asleep.

Nanna’s red Swedish-style home definitely stood ou in Iceland.

The room was excellent, and we had a better night's sleep there than at our hotel in Reykjavík. Nanna offered us a surprise breakfast in the morning. The breakfast spread was epic, and we got to sample a true Icelandic fare, such as the smoked lamb slices. From the dining room is a lovely view of the valley. Nanna is of Swedish ancestry, as reflected in her Swedish-style red house, and they lived in different parts of Iceland before settling in this part of the country. She was a ship farmer and now retired as a stay-at-home wife.

It wasn’t long before we dived into long conversations about many things, from life in Iceland to her family stories. A few hours later, her husband, Kristján, returned from her early work shift at the nearby thermal power plant. Now, I can’t imagine a more Icelandic job than that. We learned from him about the distribution of free hot water in this region and how access to “free” hot water is considered a basic civil right in Iceland.

Meeting Nanna Viktoría is undoubtedly the best experience we had in Iceland.

Our time with Nanna was hands down the best experience we had on this trip. The 30-minute breakfast turned out to be a three-hour conversation. Even though I had a full-day itinerary planned for the day, this experience was worth skipping a few attractions. Before we knew it was already past eleven o’clock. “Luckily,” the weather outside was suboptimal, which made missing outdoor sights less difficult. Eventually, we went through their Netflix watch list to swap recommendations for the movies and shows we like; a private homestay could not get more intimate. At that point, we realized it was probably time to start our sightseeing day.

Our wonderful stay with Nanna Viktoría aside, the village of Hólar is actually a wonderful destination in its own right. Even though it has less than 100 permanent residents, this 1000-year-old town has an illustrious history that is endlessly fascinating. Along with the town of Skálholt in western Iceland, a town we visited the day prior, Hólar is only one of the two ecclesiastical seats in Iceland. Hólar is particularly known for a colorful bishop, Jón Arason. Arason is infamous for his militant resistance to the protestant reformation imposed by the Danish crown. As the bishop Hólar, Arason was one of the most important individuals in medieval Iceland. The edict for conversion was regarded as an assault on Icelandic sovereignty; Arason took advantage of it and stirred up nationalist sentiment among the Icelanders.

Hólar Cathedral, the largest stone church in Iceland.

For a Catholic bishop, Arason did not exactly follow the oath of celibacy. He famously fathered several children with various women and had little supervision from Rome. Even so, he received a letter of encouragement from Pope Paul III, a Farnese, to cheer upon his defense of the faith. Arason eventually raised an army with the help of his sons. He went into several battles with a local magistrate and archrival, Daði Guðmundsson. He was eventually defeated and captured in the Battle of Sauðafell and promptly beheaded/martyred for his faith in Skálholt.

Ironically, nowadays, Arason is widely celebrated and revered by all Icelanders, even though today’s Iceland is overwhelmingly Lutheran. Many seem to acknowledge that his objection to reformation is likely attributed to retaining his own political powers rather than any religious conviction. Amazingly, many of the subsequent Lutheran bishops of Skálholt were descendants of Arason. The stone church tower we see today was constructed in 1950 to commemorate the 400th anniversary of Arason’s death. At the base of the tower was a mural of him with images of warfare.

The reconstructed Bishop’s House (Auðunnarstofal). — The reconstructed Bishop’s House (*Auðunnarstofal*).

There has been a cathedral here for over a thousand years. But like most structures in Iceland, this church has been burned down and rebuilt several times. The current structure is the largest stone church in Iceland and contains many historical artifacts dating back to the time of Arason. Aside from the cathedral, Hólar also preserved and reconstructed two heritage buildings: the Bishop’s House called Auðunnarstofal and a turf house called Nýibær. The Bishop’s House is a handmade reconstruction of the nearby building. The building is particularly striking, given that few other Iceland structures are made of heavy timber. Even from afar, the building looks like an important structure. It was especially bizarre that its interior was in mint condition and was wired with electricity and a high-tech AV system.

Up the slight hill from the church was the turf house. Unlike the turf church we saw yesterday, this house is probably more reminiscent of the one we missed at Glaumbær. The interior is interconnected, and it was deceiving just how massive the house's square footage is. Despite its darkness, the inside of the house is surprisingly cozy. As a practicing architect, I am shocked at how waterproof the construction is. Thankfully, this turf house has been under the care of the National Museum of Iceland since 1952 and has been meticulously maintained ever since.

What was perhaps lesser known about Hólar was its local university: Hólar University. Depending on how one attributes its lineage, the founding date of the institution could be traced back to 1106, which made it the oldest institute of higher learning in Europe. According to Nanna, the school is particularly known for its equine studies and fishery management program. It attracts a lot of international students, particularly from Germany. It was difficult to imagine spending a few years in a remote village of fewer than one hundred residents. Without a restaurant or bar, I could imagine Hólar may not be a top choice when it comes to its social environment for any 20-year-old.

Hofsós

My main secret motivation for visiting this part of Iceland was to dip in the municipal swimming pool at Hofsós. While Blue Lagoon may be the most famous swimming facility in the country, public municipal pools are said to be the true Icelandic experience. For quite a while, I complicated staying overnight in Hofsós instead of Hólar to maximize the enjoyment of their public pool. Just about any village of over one hundred somehow scrapped together enough resources and political will to construct a communal thermal pool. As a community amenity, these pools are what pubs are to the Irish. They are community living rooms that span across generations and social classes.

The community pool in Hofsós is a gift from Steinunn Jonsdottir and Lilja Palmadottir, whose families made an enormous fortune in retail businesses. Judging from the country's high retail cost, their fortune must be massive. In 2007, they sought to provide a gift to their local community; a community pool seemed like an obvious choice. They brought in architect Sigríður Sigþórsdóttir, whose practice Basalt earned a stellar reputation as the premier designer for Iceland’s best-known thermal baths, such as GeoSea, Vök Bath, and the Retreat at Blue Lagoon. The resulting pool is a marvelous integration between landscape and architecture. The in-ground pool overlooks the snow-capped mountain range across Skagafjörður. Although not an infinity pool, the architect achieved similar effects there.

Now we don’t need to visit the Giant’s Causeway!

As we left Hólar, there was no sign that the heavy fog would leave anytime soon. By the time we reached Hofsós, it was already past noon. We had four to five more stops before reaching Mývatn in the evening, so we were quite pressed for time. So, when we pulled into the community pool parking lot, I was quite dismayed to see that the fog completely obscured the mountain view that made this pool a destination among travelers. Of course, the locals do not necessarily need a view to enjoy the experience. Despite the fog, the pool was still quite crowded with locals. I wonder whether they prefer a day like this since they are less likely to fight with international tourists like us.

Although we did not enjoy the community pool, the beauty of this place is undisputed. Just adjacent to the pool is a staircase that leads down to the ocean below. At the bottom of the steps is a wide swatch of basalt rock formation. Interestingly, the Giant's Causeway in Northern Ireland gathered so much international fame and tourism, yet the same geological feature is everywhere you go in Iceland.

Siglufjörður

In the guidebook, the fishing village of Siglufjörður is the must-stop for any Troll Peninsula road trip. This town of twelve hundred was once a powerhouse of the Icelandic economy. Until the 1960s, Siglufjörður was home to a large fleet of fishing boats, with herring being Iceland’s main export. The town eventually earned the title of the “Herring Capital of the World.” At its peak, Siglufjörður’s fishery accounted for roughly a fifth of Iceland’s total export. The boom in the herring industry was commonly compared to the gold rush of the American West. Herring prospectors from Norway came in thousands, and this little town once hosted as many as a few hundred herring boats on bad weather days.

But like many fishing towns worldwide, its success ultimately led to its downfall. Overfishing and the changing current led to the collapse of the herring fishery. In 1969, the herring stock disappeared. By 1970, the industry and the town were on the verge of disappearance. Various processing facilities were abandoned overnight. These industrial sites languished in ruin until local volunteers banded together to conserve them for future generations. Their effort culminated in creating the Herring Era Museum (Síldarminjasafnið).

The museum consists of separate buildings, each telling different aspects of the town’s herring industry. The first building was the former Salt Station. Constructed in 1907, the main floor was the former office space of one of the 23 canning companies that once operated in town. This floor exhibited many historic photographs of the town during the heyday of the herring rush. It was shocking to see how busy this quiet harbor was back in the day. The exhibit also includes a graph tracking the rise and fall of total herring output and many historic herring cans. For us, the more interesting part of this structure is upstairs. The former dwelling quarter was recreated to give us a good glimpse of the conditions of the herring girls.

Recreated living quarter for herring girls at The Herring Era Museum

The second building, Fish Factory, displayed various heavy equipment and tools workers used to process herring. It demonstrated just how labor-intensive the herring industry was. In addition to proceeding with herring into fillets, they also created fishmeal as well as other byproducts. I have read that the museum has a slating demonstration once a week during the summer months. The third building is a former boathouse home to the museum’s largest artifacts. They include smaller objects like fresnel lenses from a local lighthouse to the largest object in the collection: a large herring vessel called Týr.

Although fishing remains an industry in town, the economy of Siglufjörður has diversified. The Herring Era Museum commemorates the specific decades of the “herring rush.” The museum's main purpose is to demonstrate the importance of Siglufjörður in Iceland’s economy in the early 20th century. More importantly, the herring wealth from Siglufjörður helped fuel Iceland’s independence movement from Denmark. But as great as the museum was, I must admit that the biggest draw for me was not the herring museum or even the beautiful fjord.

For me personally, Siglufjörður’s real claim of fame was the filming location for the Icelandic TV show Trapped (Ófærð). This acclaimed series was set in the picturesque town of Seyðisfjörður at the eastern end of the country, but most of the filming took place here in Siglufjörður. Everywhere we looked, I could recognize various landmarks from the series. The most prominent among them got to be the soaring Siglufjörður Church (Siglufjarðarkirkja) and the upmarket Sigló Hótel. While I was going around town as a fanboy, Brian, who had never heard of the show, was quite dumbfounded by my excitement.

Sigló Hótel is said to be one of the best in Iceland.

Though the beauty of Seyðisfjörður is probably superior, Siglufjörður’s landscape is not much less dramatic. Given its proximity to Akureyri, the second city of Iceland, it only makes sense why the production company selected Siglufjörður as the filming location. I also felt that the city’s revitalized harborfront, colorful eateries, and upscale hotels contributed to that decision. If it were not for our hotel reservation at Mývatn, I would have chosen to spend a night here to take in the beauty of this town.

The Road To Akureyri

From Siglufjörður, it was a leisurely hour-long drive to Akureyri. By this time, the fog has begun to lift slightly. We could see a faint blue sky above the cloud when we squinted hard. I sometimes let my yearning for good weather “cloud” my appreciation of the natural scenery during my travel. The drive from Siglufjörður was among the best we experienced in Iceland. Everywhere we looked were waterfalls from the snow-capped mountain ridge. Sometimes, it could be very frustrating that there were so few vehicle pull-off areas on the road to allow us to admire the surrounding beauty.

Amazing scenery of the Troll Penninsula.

Between Dalvik and Siglufjörður, there were a total of three tunnels. If my memory serves me right, two out of three tunnels are one lane only. That was our first time traveling through a one-way tunnel. It took me a few minutes to properly understand the proper etiquette regarding upcoming traffic. There are various passing spaces spread throughout the tunnel. With any oncoming traffic, the car with a passing space on its right side must pull in and let others pass. Even though the passing spaces are frequent, one could never drive too fast in any one-way tunnel.

My speeding photograph of my traffic infraction.

Icelandic tunnels are works of art. Compared to tunnels back in the New York City area, these tunnels are modern, cavernous, and incredibly well-maintained. Iceland managed to build world-class infrastructure in a foreboding environment for a country with a third of the population of Manhattan. Part of its amazing infrastructure design is the speed camera system. And unlike in the United States, speed cameras in Iceland (or much of Europe) are signposted and give motorists plenty of warning beforehand. Embarrassingly, I got my second-ever speeding ticket in my 18 years of driving at the second tunnel here. The penalty was steep at 22,500 ISK (or about $180 USD). However, I got a unique selfie from my infraction, right?

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Varmahlíð & Glaumbær

Hólar

Hofsós

Siglufjörður

The Road To Akureyri

About Iceland’s High Cost of Travel

Húsavík - Not My Hometown