Call Me Ishmael. Actually, Don't Call Me Ishmael.

The weather in Hofsós over the last week has been extremely pleasant, as far as Icelandic summer weather goes. We have had abundant sunshine and brisk, but pleasant temperatures. On these sorts of days it is difficult to stay indoors and I am always looking for things to do that will place me out in the sunshine after work. The last three nights have offered such opportunities. 

Thursday evening I was able to go to my second art show of the summer, at the farm, Bær. http://www.baer.is/about/ The latest group of artists was finishing up their monthlong residency and showcasing the work they have done while in Iceland. Viktor accompanied Erica and I, and his grandmother, Gunna. He was less interested in the art, and more interested in the cookies and juice, and doing front flips on the back lawn, but then I think, so was I. 

 
Things that make me laugh: this video.

Viktor

Friday evening, Erica and I were both looking for some unstructured outdoor adventure, so we borrowed Valgeir's truck and drove just a short way down the highway to where there is a turnoff up to the mountain. We left the car down low, near the road, and for the next several hours wandered up and around the beautiful foothills, sometimes together and sometimes on our own. 

Erica

We picked handfuls of blueberries and marveled at the colorful moss and wildflowers. At one point we forded the little river, taking off our shoes and plunging into the ice cold mountain water. It was a good thing my feet were numb by the time I made it to the other side, because the sharp rocks there would have been even more stabby and unpleasant if I'd had any functioning pain receptors. 

Cold, pale toes

Climbing to the tip-top was not the point of the evening. I was happy just to wander and take in the scenery. Around 10:30 the sun dipped below the horizon line, turning the sky a striking, soft orange color. In several places I had a good sit and simply reveled in the fact that I was in Iceland. It occurred to me, not for the first time, how lucky I am to be here this summer. Cue emotional theme music. 

Málmey in the sunset

Yesterday after work I had the chance to go out fishing on the fjord, which was a complete delight. I love to fish, but had never been fishing in the ocean before, so this was quite exciting. It was possibly the most perfect evening that I have had here this summer, and that is really saying something. Valgeir and Gunna set it up for us with the Sailing in Skagafjörður tour company, (highly recommended) which runs out of the harbor here in Hofsós. I have enviously watched the boat come and go all summer, and last night I got to try it out for myself. Valgeir, his son Þröstur, daughter-in-law Rósa, and their two sons, Viktor and Valgeir Orri all went as well. We cruised out into the fjord and headed north to take a look at the back side of Þórðarhöfði, which is a really cool looking headland. It has some truly impressive rock formations and was fascinating to see from the water. I still have not taken a day to hike Þórðarhöfði, but am determined to do it before I leave. 

Our boat captain moved us into a good spot to do some fishing, and mere seconds after the lines (3 hooks each!) had been released into the water there were fish on the hooks. Big, delicious cod, fresh from the Arctic Ocean (or North Atlantic, maybe? I'm a little fuzzy on ocean geography and where one becomes the other). It was just as fun to watch the others catch them as it was to actually fish and catch them myself. The ill fated fish were immediately tossed into a container at the back of the boat and gutted, which drew a mob of seagulls who were looking for a tasty fish gut treat.  At one point I was certain I had caught THE BIG ONE. My white whale. I had a hell of a time reeling it in. With each crank I was wondering how large and impressive this fish was going to be. Was it something other than the plentiful Cod and occasional Haddock we had been catching? Some sort of fascinating, giant, ocean-dwelling legend? No. Turns out I had somehow hooked a normal sized cod in the back and so was dragging the poor, slimy little guy sideways across the ocean, which only made him seem like a monster. Story of my life. Oh well.

Valgeir (and a fish)

Reeling like a pro.

We were out on the water for a couple hours in total, and I loved every minute of it. When we returned to the harbor I was invited back to Gunna and Valgeir's house for a late, fresh fish dinner, which ended up being one of the most amazing meals I've ever had. The frozen tilapia fillets I occasionally buy in Minnesota are a pathetic excuse for a fish dinner, compared to this. I've been spoiled.

An "after" picture of the fish

While dinner was being prepared, I had the honor of playing outside with Viktor and Valgeir Orri. Valgeir Orri took a shine to me this weekend, and when in my presence, said my name as often as he took a breath. "Mal-O-Ree! Sjáðu! (Look!)" he hollers as he throws a stone with great aplomb, or splashes masterfully into the water with his little rain boots. "Mal-O-Ree! Komðu! (Come on!)" He instructs as he leads me over to see something cool. They say to never go to the second location, but I willingly followed this cute little fellow all over the place and lived to tell the tale. I even got a shy hug from him before he went back to Reykjavik this afternoon. Be still, my heart.

My buddies.

OH! One more wild thing! I experienced my first earthquake! Just before I went to bed last night, the whole house gave a full body shudder that lasted maybe a couple of seconds. It was the strangest thing. I wasn't even 100% sure that's what it was until I read about it this morning, though I had my suspicions. It measured at 3.7 on the Richter scale and was located off the coast of Siglufjörður from what I have read. Pretty exciting. 

Tonight I was supposed to go horseback riding, but there was a scheduling conflict with the girl who has the horses, so that will have to wait until Wednesday. Instead, I'm going to attend a church service at a teeny tiny turf church called Gröf. I can't remember the last time I went to church, so hopefully I don't burst into flames when I walk through the door or anything. Stay tuned.

Hofsós Sunsets

"It's good for the soul to sit in the grass and watch the sunset on nights like this," Valgeir tells us. And so we do.

Sometimes, in order to be able to really enjoy a good sunset, it is necessary to have a little adventure first. Behold, my mighty steed, and transporter to great sunset views.

Round-Up

After work today I went with Gunna and Valgeir to Kolkuós, where they keep their horses. They planned to round up the herd so that they could transport six of the mares over to another farm where they will spend the next three weeks with a virile stallion. The hope is that next spring there will be six lovely new foals joining the herd, which already numbers about 18. I wasn't totally sure what to expect of this task. I guess I figured it would be a matter of gently encouraging the horses to move into the pen and then separating the 6 lucky lady horses and letting them clip-clop into the trailer. I knew this wasn't the first time the horses had done this, and figured they would know the routine well enough that it would be a quick project. Wrong. 

The horses were apparently not feeling particularly cooperative tonight, and gave us quite the run around. There is a lot of land at Kolkuós, and we walked and drove around a good portion of it tonight, as we tried to urge the horses toward the corral. Just when we thought they were going the right way the lead horse would break away and the whole damn group of them would gallop off.

"At least go in the right direction!" I'm begging them, but the horses just say, "Nei!" 

Ba-dum-CHA! Nei. Get it? Anyone? Because it's a horse...? Nei=No....Ok. If you weren't a fan of that one I've got a million others. 

The horses finally made their way to the corral, through a combination of Valgeir and Gunna's efforts (I'm not going to claim to have helped much, though I was out there waving my arms like a fool and trying to help where I could) and a neighboring farmer bringing over one of his horses, which caused the Kolkuós herd to be curious enough to sort of follow him toward the paddock. 

Once they were locked in, they milled around and looked at us humans with general displeasure. How dare we try to contain them?! The mares were eventually picked out and loaded into the trailers and the other horses released back into the immense pasture. I swear, the ones that didn't have to go into the trailers had expressions of such relief on their long, fuzzy faces. They watched the trailers with a mix of interest and pity. I'm pretty sure they were whispering to each other, "There goes Gladys, poor old thing. Glad I'm not the one in that box."

We delivered the mares to the neighboring farm where they will have their scandalous summer vacation. 

          "How many horses does this farmer have?" I ask.

          "Maybe... 40," Valgeir answers. 

          "More than that!" Gunna disagrees.

          "42," Valgeir jokes. 

I spent a few minutes befriending three fluffy dogs while Gunna and Valgeir chatted with the farmer. Dogs and horses in one evening. All while surrounded by the most beautiful landscape in the world. Am I lucky or what? 

Back in the car I reflected on my filthy state and the fun I'd had getting that way. Sure, I'd smelled better before, and I was tired, but I was also incredibly happy.  And happy beats clean any day. 

At the end of the day,

your feet should be dirty, 

your hair messy, 

and your eyes sparkling

                                              -Shanti