Just before 6am, Ian pulled our cabin curtains aside.  “Quick!  We need to get dressed and get up on deck!” One glance out of the window explained why.  We were sailing up a stunning 17-km long fjord.  We threw on our thermals and fleeces in record time, and bolted for Deck 11.  The sun was shining, the sky was clear blue, and we were surrounded by mountains and waterfalls.  It was as if we’d woken up inside a postcard, and a spectacular one at that.  I couldn’t believe how lucky we were to have such a beautiful morning for our first day in Iceland. I took a lot of photos from the deck, thinking it might be my only chance to see Icelandic sunshine.

We woke up to THIS!

I ate my breakfast outside, reluctant to take my eyes off the view, as if it would magically disappear if I looked away.  It was going to be perfect for hiking, so we prepared accordingly, dressing in our warmest clothes, taking plenty of water, and stealing a banana from the breakfast buffet (ok that was just me).  We boarded one of the ship’s small tender boats, which would carry us for the 5 minute ride from the ship, which was anchored in the fjord.

Breakfast with a view

The tourist information person, who was young and fit (this becomes more relevant later in the story), suggested that we begin with a walk up to the Sound Sculpture, then continue further up the hill; “this bit is a bit steep but ok” he explained.  Then the trail would flatten out for a couple of kms, before dropping down to the town. The whole loop should take less than 2 hours – perfect for me.  For a longer walk for Ian, he suggested following the waterfall trail on the opposite side of the fjord.  From the trailhead, he could simply continue to walk uphill, following the waterfalls, until he was ready to turn back.  It was 9am, and we agreed to rendezvous at 1pm.

I duly set off as instructed, turning right at the fish factory and on to the trail, which was indicated by small yellow marker posts.  It started off climbing gently, with a couple of small streams to cross. It was muddy in places but nothing too difficult.  I reached the odd beehive-shaped sound sculpture in half an hour.  I had lovely views back over the fjord.

Climbing up to the sound sculpture

Crossing waterfalls

I quickly spotted the part of the trail that was “a bit steep”.  It rose almost vertically above me. Muttering darkly about fit young men, and their perceptions of the capabilities of considerably older women who have been indulging in cruise ship cuisine, I proceeded to haul myself way upwards.  After a while it levelled out and I was able to walk rather than clamber.  It was beautiful up there – very alpine, even though we were not far above sea level.  I saw Icelandic sheep, wildflowers – and waterfalls everywhere.  Every few minutes I crossed a gully through which a stream flowed.  Looking up to my left, there was always a cascade higher up.  The camera was working overtime.  I could still see right down the fjord, and over the town.  One of the gullies was very steep and I had to bum slide down into it.

My hiking trail (this is the flat bit)

After about 1.5 kms, the trail led me onto a small knoll, marked with a rock cairn and a geocache.  From here, the views were amazing. For the first time, I could see up into the river valley, where there were yet more waterfalls.  Soon afterwards the trail turned right and began its descent.  The first section was gentle, and I just had to watch out for a couple of muddy sections.  Then it got steep.  Really steep.  More bum sliding.  It zigzagged down until it finally reached the town.  It was quite a challenging walk for me, but the gorgeous scenery more than made up for it.

From there I meandered slowly through Seydisfjordur, admiring some of the brightly painted wooden houses, and making my way around the central lagoon until I reached the picturesque blue church.  It was lovely inside too.  The windows did not have stained glass, but who needs it when you have mountain views on all sides?

Some Icelandic

Skates left at the front door, for those days where the fjord freezes over

Curious kitty kat

Seydisfjordur was settled in the 1800s by herring fishermen, and gradually grew into East Iceland’s largest settlement. Many of the wooden houses are Norwegian-built, brought across in kit form. It was also the scene of technological development, with the first submarine cable from Europe coming ashore here in 1906. It is also home to one of the world’s oldest power plants.

We met back at the information centre, which was full of people attempting to get onto the internet.  Ian’s hike had been just as spectacular as mine.  He’d walked a couple of kms along the road beside the fjord, to reach the trailhead.  From there he began climbing, making his way from one waterfall to the next, and to the next.  They seemed to continue forever.  He had different views to mine, and nothing steep, though he also had streams to jump across.

Photos from Ian’s hike

After comparing notes, he decided to set off on the same route that I’d taken earlier, while I pursued the quest for internet access.  The girl on the desk suggested I head to the campground, which I duly did.  Half an hour later, I was up to date with blogging and emails, with time to spare.

I followed a flat trail beside a river for about 20 minutes, until it started to climb into the hills.  From there I walked along the back streets of the town, pausing at a small gallery with some weird modern art.  After that I’d pretty much covered everything, so it was back on the tender vessel to return to the ship.  Ian followed soon afterwards.

At 4pm we set sail back down the fjord, and we stayed on deck watching the mountains and waterfalls glide by on both sides.  I think I set a new photo record!  It was beautiful.  A short time later, the captain announced that a strong weather front was approaching, and we would be skipping our port call at Grundafjordur. This means no mountain climb for Ian; instead we will be spending the night in port at Akureyri, and sailing the following morning straight to Reyjkavik.  Hopefully this avoids the worst of the weather. We are not arguing with the captain’s decision!

To top off the day, we saw a pod of orcas leaping through the water, from our cabin window. Life is very good.

Boy on a boat

Views from deck as we sail away