Unplugged on Flatey

Here's a blog I'm writing from Flatey in Breiðafjörður, but will have to post later. [Note: now it's later, and I'm posting it. :) ]

Yesterday (July 7), we had the pleasure of staying at cousin Halldor's (Dori) summerhouse on Skorradalsvatn east of Borganes. It's a beautiful cabin with an immense view, and a joyous lack of wind, due to the abundance of trees planted around. It has been very windy everywhere else.

Once we found the summerhouse (thanks to Ari, who printed out maps from ja.is and gave us GPS coordinates just in case), we bopped over a couple of valleys to visit Birna, who raises Icelandic horses, summer help, and grandchildren in her “accordioning” house on the farm at Skáney, where my great-grandmother was born. Birna has a wonderfully open and cheerful nature.

Back at the summerhouse - scandinavian beds are so comfortable. Sooooooo comfortable. With cushy mattresses and down comforters, a person could just sink into one and never wake up. Vacation schedules trump dreamy comfort, however, so we hopped up and made our way over hill and dale (and heiđi) to the ferry at Stykkishólmur, veering off the road at random intervals to take pictures along the way.

Here at 2-km-long Flatey, existence is stripped down to the ocean, land and their critters, a dozen houses, and some people. No cars, no shops, no internet, no distractions, which is great. We walked around the island for a couple of hours, watching the sheep, listening to birds, getting dive-bombed by birds, getting pooped on by birds. Flatey is a popular place for nesting birds in the summertime.



We also went into the church, which is always open for visitors. The frescoes on the ceiling show the history of the island as interpreted by the artist Baltasar Samper, who created them in exchange for room and board. The frescoes range from dark to darker, showing scenes such as the law-giver Moses thrusting up stone tablets, backed by someone on the basalt columns at the Law Rock at Þingvellir, and women in dark clothing working, plus fishermen working by lamplight, and other scenes of local history and lore. At the front of the church, in place of a crucifix, Jesus is hanging out with some fishermen. He's wearing an Icelandic sweater.



Mom looked in her genealogy database and found that we have several ancestors who lived in Flatey from the 900's through 1400's, but of course we didn't see any of their gravestones in the cemetery. The oldest ones with writing visible are from the mid-1800's.

Our room is in one of the houses of Hotel Flatey, which consists of a few restored buildings in the old village. It's a teeny room at the top of the house, and when we rearrange luggage around the room, it's like playing one of those games with the little squares that you have to slide around to make the right pattern.



I'm typing this (from Flatey) at 11pm and the sun is still high in the sky. We asked Birna about sunset and she said it will come soon – in August. Meanwhile, we're finding creative ways to block the light from our windows so we can sleep.



At 11pm, the sun is still at 6pm New Mexico time in the sky. I don't plan on staying awake to watch, but I imagine that the sun will dip below the horizon briefly before popping back up. If we were just a bit farther north, the sun wouldn't even dip.

Tomorrow – back onto the Ferry, then zigging through some fjords while zagging along others, on our way to Isafjordur. We have bunches of ancestors from there, too, from the 1500's.