In the Footsteps of the Vikings

I: Iceland

Tue, 14 Sep 2004 22:38:58 -0700

Reykjavik.

Our flight to Iceland left JFK in the late evening and arrived there in the early morning. In the early dawn we did see that there is actually quite a bit of green. Iceland is green and Greenland is icy, they say. The plane landed in Keflavik airport, which was still some 25 miles away from Reykjavik, the capital of Iceland.

left: The Icelandic flag.

There is a regular bus service by Flybus, the bus company associated with Iceland Air, who will drop you off at your Reykjavik hotel for around $9 per person. Or, you could take a taxi and pay $90. But, to make things easier, a representative from Great Canadian Travel was waiting for us. The poor guy must have rolled out of his warm bed at 4 in the morning to be there at the airport in time. It was just before 6:00 a.m. and the country looked cold and desolate. It was around 50˚F and there was just a light wind. For Iceland, this is beautiful weather. Along the road we saw an electronic display with three sets of numbers. One was the air temperature, the other was the temperature on the surface of the road, the third showed the velocity and the direction of the wind. Traveling can be hazardous in Iceland and these numbers tell you when to be extra cautious.

Peter Lieberman, a friend of ours, had told us that when they were in Iceland earlier this year, the wind was blowing so hard they could barely get out of the hotel just to walk outside. And a tour book helpfully reminded us that in January, Reykjavik enjoys an average of only three sunny days, and in July only one.

Apparently it is quite common to have fierce, wind-driven rain, alternating with drizzle, gales, and fog to create a miserable climate. The saying is that “if you don’t like the weather, wait five minutes, it will probably get worse”. What we found out is that because of the wind, weather patterns can change very rapidly. It may be sunny for a few minutes before rain clouds sweep in for a short and nasty shower, followed by another few minutes of glorious sunshine.

Geologically speaking, Iceland is fairly young and rugged, with snowcapped peaks, glaciers, hot springs, geysers, active volcanoes, waterfalls, icecaps, tundra, lava deserts, and craters. It is a beautiful country, especially when the sun is shining. And the atmosphere is clear, because there are few particulates in the air. The wind blows all the smoke and haze away. Almost all of the home heating is achieved using the heat from high-pressure steam from underground hot springs, which is transported through underground pipes throughout the city, at least in the major cities. You open the faucet marked hot, and out comes hot water with a taste and odor of sulfur and brimstone. It comes to you straight from the bowels of the earth, reminiscent of the brew of Macbeth’s witches. But then you open the cold water tap, and the water coming out tastes wonderful, because it comes from uncontaminated glacier-fed lakes. This is the yin and yang of municipal water supply. The surfeit of heat means in the country that there is little fossil fuel being burned, except in automobiles. And high taxation makes fuel expensive and discourages excessive consumption.

At 103,000 square kilometers, Iceland is the second largest island in Europe. Of this area, 12 % is covered with glaciers and only about 21 % is considered arable. But only 1 % of the country is cultivated, so there is still a lot of land left for those brave and foolhardy enough to consider making a living cultivating this challenging land. The country is sparsely populated. With only 285,000 inhabitants, this calculates out to around 3 persons per sq kilometer. On the glaciers, the number is obviously less. For comparison, the population density of the US is about 27 persons per sq kilometer. Those vast expanses in middle America do their job to reduce the average, so the density in California or in downtown Manhattan would be a bit higher. If you want to find a densely populated area, go to Indonesia, where the population density of Java and Bali exceeds 500 persons per sq kilometer.

right: A quiet street in Reykjavik in the early evening.

In Iceland most of the people live around Reykjavik, the capital of the country where, as the guidebooks imply, there is a hopping and thriving night life. Still, the Icelanders are a hardy lot, and even in this harsh environment they have managed to become the 7th richest country per capita in the world. And they have achieved this in only the last few decades. The average salary is now around US$40K/year. This is actually amazing, since 60 % of their income is still from their fishing industry. But like everybody else, they are now pushing technology, management consulting, and tourism to increase their economic base. Tourism is doing well, especially with all the specials from Icelandic Air; it now accounts for around 20 % of their economic base.

Hotel Fron, where we stayed, was located in downtown Reykjavik. The room was not very large, but it was friendly and it was furnished as an apartment with all the amenities thereof. It had a large picture window and it looked out on the inner courtyard, so you had to pull the drapes for privacy. But the average Scandinavian is not as uptight as the average American. It was too bad we could only stay there one night. The location was very convenient, as we were able to walk and enjoy the sights of downtown Reykjavik. There is Lake Tjornin, which is a nice and pretty good-sized lake right in the middle of town. They skate there in the winter, but it wasn’t that cold yet at that time, thank God.

In the middle of the city is also the Hallgrimskirkja cathedral, a monolithic structure evoking images of lava flowing down from the rims of a volcano.

left: Interior of the Hallgrimskirkaja Church, the largest church in Iceland.

Looks like everybody in the church is a tourist taking pictures of the modern organ.

We also took a half-day excursion to see some of the sights outside the capital. The country is well-geared for the tourists; there are many travel agencies in Reykjavik where you can choose and discuss the possibilities of a variety of tours in English, German, or French. Or Icelandic, if you are so inclined. I don’t think I picked up any Icelandic words when we were there, since everybody spoke English and Icelandic was completely incomprehensible, even with our knowledge of some foreign languages. The half-day tour was $65/per person. Everything is expensive.

The tour took us through mountainous landscapes with alternating rain and sunshine; pelting rain for a few minutes followed by bright sunshine next. There was a good wind. The guide said this was good weather. We should have been here last week, said the guide, when there was driving rain almost all the time.

Þingvellir

First stop was Þingvellir, location of the country’s first parliamentary site, established around 930 AD. For many decades the Icelanders seemed to have come from all over the island to that location to discuss and establish laws and rules. The rocky surroundings do make for a dramatic backdrop. The reason for this remarkable landscape is because here one can clearly see the effects of the continental drift.

left: Þingvellir with lake Þingvallavatn in background

Right here is the boundary, running north-south, where the American continent is moving west and the Afrasian continent is moving East. They move away from each other at a rate of 2 cm/year. The results of these movements can be observed as growing cracks in the soil. The biggest crack is now a deep lake, lake Þingvallavatn, the biggest sweet-water lake in Iceland. You can see this lake in the background of the picture. The west bank, on the other side of this lake belongs to the American continent; the east bank, where this picture was taken, is on the Afrasian continent. The movement of the earth creates these huge cracks everywhere in the rocks.

The drift also causes the cross-section of this lake to be V-shaped, because the surface moves faster away from each other than the soil deeper in the ground. It is 120 meters deep in the middle and interestingly, over the centuries, three different species of trout developed in these waters. One species stays on the bottom and became bottom-feeders; another species stays in the middle depths of the lake and feeds on plankton and other small fry, and the third species became top-feeders and stays close to the surface of the water, feeding on insects and other stuff falling on the water surface. The 120 meters height is apparently sufficiently distant to allow for the development of these three different species.

Everywhere in the desolate landscape you see these cairns of stone as shown in the picture on the right. They were used as road markers in the old days.
Interestingly, they were also used as “mail boxes”.

right: A cairn used as road marker as well as a mail box.

If you wanted to mail a letter to somebody, usually written on a piece of leather, you write his name and address on this letter, together with your message. A traveler coming by sees the letter and the address. If he is going into that direction, he takes the letter along to deliver to the addressee, or leaves it at another cairn if his path would veer in another direction. And so the letter will travel until it reaches its destination. It is probably just as (un)reliable as the US Postal Service.
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Gullfoss

Gullfoss (The Golden waterfall) is Iceland's most famous waterfall, maybe because it is close to Reykjavik, so there are lots of tours going there. It is part of the glacial river, Hvita (White River). This enormous white glacial cascade drops 32 meters into a narrow canyon, which is 70 meters deep and 2.5 kilometers long. It has a spectacular two-tiered cataract and the fine drizzle above the falls usually results in a rainbow in the sunlight.
 left: Gullfoss, the Golden Waterfall
There is a footpath from the car park, which runs alongside the northern edge of the falls to a viewing platform very close to the thundering waterfall. The air is filled with moisture and because of the constant humidity, the entire area around Gullfoss is wet and the surroundings are covered with lush vegetation.
Earlier, Gullfoss was part of a nearby farm, Brattholt, owned by the farmer Tomas Tomasson and his daughter Sigridur Tomasdottir. Foreign investors were close to buying Gullfoss to harness it for electricity generation and also charge visitors a fee for viewing. The farmer and his daughter took the case to the parliament, and Sigridur even threatened to drown herself in the waterfall if the deal went ahead. The government intervened, purchased the falls, and allowed the falls to stay as it was. Maybe I should say a few words about Scandinavian names. From his name you can derive that he has a dad named Tomas; that is why his last name is Tomasson, the son of Tomas. Sigridur’s dad is also a Tomas, so her last name is Tomasdottir, or the daughter of Tomas. So it is possible to have a family of husband, wife, son and daughter, all with different last names.

Hot Stuff

Geysir is a small hot spring area; a miniature Yellowstone, with geysers spouting steam seemingly everywhere.

right: The geyser shown on the right spouts once every three-five minutes

At Hveragerði, the community is built above a “hot” spot, where water, with temperatures up to 200˚C, actually superheated steam, is available just a hundred meter or so underground. At this temperature, the pressure has to be around 225 psia, or 15 times atmospheric pressure. If you realize that your average tire pressure is only 3 times atmospheric pressure, you can see that there is quite a bit of latent energy waiting there in the bowels of the earth. One homeowner recently heard a huge crash in his house and found that the floor of his living room had disappeared and a thermal pool was bubbling there in its place, replete with spouting steam, smoke and fumes. Surprise! The town has a number of hothouses, heated by this geothermal heat, where the locals grow a variety of vegetables, especially tomatoes and bananas.

Iceland is now the largest grower of bananas in the Northern hemisphere! Chiquita does not really have to worry, because with the high labor cost in Iceland, we’ll never see them as being able to compete against the $0.99 for a 4 lb bunch of bananas we see in Costco.

left: “tropical” spot in one of the steam-heated hothouses close to Reykjavik.

The Blue Lagoon

On our way home, the plane had a stopover in Keflavik Airport for a few hours –I think they planned it on purpose— and we took a trip to visit the Blue Lagoon. There was a bus ready to leave half an hour after the plane arrived and they assured us they would be back in the airport at least one half hour before the plane would leave. If you do not have Icelandic currency, there is no problem. They take Visa, MC, American Express, US dollars, or Euros. If you don’t have your swimming togs, this is fine too. You can rent them at the Lagoon. If you are hungry after the swim, there is a restaurant there too. They make such a big fuss about this premier tourist venue, you have no choice but to go and see it for yourself. Otherwise you will have feelings of guilt for the rest of your lives.

The Blue Lagoon is undoubtedly the world’s largest open-air bathtub. First they get high-pressure steam from underground and use this to run steam turbines to generate electricity. The waste steam and hot water from the geothermal power plant is then directed to this huge man-made swimming pool, 2-5 feet deep all over, where the water is a comfortable 90-100˚F all year round. With air temperatures often 40˚F and below, the pond would have cooled down rapidly were it not for the huge amount of hot water and steam being constantly fed into the pool. The water is full of minerals and is colored blue. There is a lot of volcanic rock around. You can see huge amounts of white sulfur particles floating around. It is actually quite pleasant to soak yourself in the warm water, especially on chilly days. What would have been useful is a pair of rubber thongs to walk from the dressing room to the pool and back and not to have to stand on the wet, cold floor, when you get dressed.
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Driving in Iceland.

The next day after we first arrived in Iceland, we picked up a rental car at Hertz and drove over highway 1 to Akureyri, some 390 kms away. The roads are very well maintained, but they are mostly not overly wide and usually there was only one lane in each direction. In addition, the roads are usually constructed on a narrow ridge built a few feet above the surrounding landscape. This construction allows the road to stick out after heavy snowfalls. There is little or no shoulder to prevent the car from rolling off if you go off the road. So you drive close to the middle of the road, which means you do have to reduce speed for the occasional somebody coming from the opposite side. They do have poles sticking out on the shoulder every 50 meters or so to guide you in case a snowstorm makes it difficult for you to guess where the road is and where the steep embankment starts.

right: landscape along the road to Akureyri,

The landscape changes from alpine fields to tundras to ancient lava fields covered with thin layers of moss to peaceful fertile valleys and wide expanses of golden-colored heather and grass. The mountains are several thousand feet high and make a wonderful backdrop with the threatening clouds around them. Some of the mountains are green; others are black and bare; some are covered with peeling layers of moss.

left: Low mountains and a cascade of waterfalls along the road to Akureyri.

We had gorgeous weather; mostly sun, with just an occasional shower. Sheep and lambs were roaming freely all over the place, as well as the Icelandic horses and an occasional cow. The Icelandic horses are small and sturdy and they seem to have cultivated a natural five-step gait, which is smoother for the rider than when riding a horse with the usual 3-step gait. I suppose it is like driving a car with 5-cylinders or driving one with 3 cylinders only.

Akureyri

Akureyri, also called the “Capital of the North” reminds some of us of a village in the Swiss Alps. The city is elongated and built along the Eyjafjőrður fjord. It is surrounded by high mountains, on which I counted at least 7 hanging glaciers when viewed from across the fjord. They should have made Akureyri the capital instead of Reykjavik. The town has a surprisingly mild climate; the temperature is almost always several degrees higher than in Reykjavik and there is much less wind. Many people from Reykjavik actually fly in here to spend the weekend to enjoy the nicer weather.

left: Akureyri as seen from our hotel room..

The city has a population of only 16,000 souls, but an estimated 180,000 tourists visit the town and the surroundings each year. With such few people around, the city still manages to have a symphony orchestra, several museums, several art galleries, and a fully operational 18-hole par 71 golf course. Everybody has at least two jobs to cover the many demands of the city. Jaðarsvőllur, located only 60 miles from the Arctic Circle, is the most northern golf course in the world. In the summer you can play straight through midnight, and some of the tournaments organized there are actually designed that way.

right: The church of Akureyri, designed by Gudjon Samuelsson and consecrated in 1940.

Food is expensive in Iceland. In a supermarket a 2 feet long baguette was $3. In sit-down places a 9” pizza was $15. Get a pint of Tuborg draft and you are out 8 bucks. There was a Subway franchise in Akureyri with the same layout as the ones we see here in the States and the cheapest Subway sandwich was around 10 bucks. But in the hotels the breakfasts were good and included in the price of the room, so that is where we loaded up. Having a car also allowed us to picnic for lunch. And in Akureyri we did find a Denny-type restaurant where we could have a simple dinner for around $20 per person.

Goðafoss

After driving further east for another 50 kms, we stopped at Goðafoss, a horseshoe shaped waterfall also known as “The Fall of the Gods”. The water drops about 12 meters in two horseshoe shaped falls. One of the chieftains present at Þingvellir in the year 1000 was Þorgeir Ljósvetningagoði (Lord of Ljósavatn). He was eventually given the authority to decide which religion was to be adopted by the Icelanders. He was a pagan himself, but after a period of profound thought, he decided that Christianity was to be the religion of Iceland.

left: The Fall of the Gods.

Upon his return home, he took the likenesses of the pagan gods he used to worship and dumped them unceremoniously into a waterfall near his homestead. That guy knows how to take matters in his own hands. From that time, the waterfall has been named Goðafoss. This just proves it is useful to have a waterfall in your back yard.

Another 50 km further to the east and we were in the Lake Myvatn region. Lake Myvatn is shallow and is very unusual because of the many volcanic activities associated with the area. In Skútustaðir, for instance, there were a number of little hillocks sticking out of the lake, 50 feet or so high, and with diameters of around 100-200 feet. These hills consist of lava, which had been transformed into black pumice over the centuries. On most places there is a thin covering of soil and grass, but there are many places where the black pumice is open to the air. There is also a surprisingly large number of insects and bugs around, which does detract somewhat of the enjoyment of the unusual landscape. We were in an intermittent light drizzle, so that did keep the insects away.

Dimmuborgir

Other interesting lava formations are observed in nearby Dimmuborgir, where a pool of lava, some 2 km in diameter, was formed during an eruption in Lúdentarborgir. The pool drained when the lava flowed into Lake Mytvan, leaving behind high pillars of lava with bizarre forms.

right: The Kirjan in Dimmuborgir

It is believed that these pillars were formed when steam rose through the molten lava and cooled it. An interesting formation is a huge cave in the solidified lava, named Kirjan for church.

Námaskarð

A few miles east of Lake Mytvan is the Námaskarð region with bubbling mud pots, steam vents, fumaroles, dark pools, etc., a veritable miniature Yellowstone Park. As in Yellowstone, the landscape is full of color, lots of yellow, brown, and black. It was also full of flying insects and it was good that we were prepared and had our Deet insect-repellant on our exposed body parts.

left: Steam vents, fumaroles, mud pots, and lots of insects.

These are really aggressive insects and even after being drenched in Deet, we were glad to be able to find refuge into the car where we were shielded from the flying terrorists; except from the ones who managed to sneak inside the vehicle.

Dettifoss

Going further east, we made a detour on road 864.It was 28 kms one way, on a very rough road, to get to Dettifoss, another waterfall. This one was harder to get to but it is also the most impressive and the most spectacular waterfall in Iceland. We found out, after driving carefully at 15-20 mph over this bad road, that there was much less jarring if we drove at around 40 mph, flying over the rubble, as it is.

The waterfall is located on the river Jökulsa á Fjőllum, which sounds like quite a mouthful. With a height of 45 meters, a width of 100 meters, and an average water flow of 200 cubic meters per second, it is also the most forceful waterfall in all of Europe.

right: The Dettifoss waterfall.

Seyðisfjördur

Our final destination in Iceland was Seyðisfjördur, a little town on the East Coast of the country, which is the ferry terminal for the ferries going to the Faroe Islands. The town also has a small fish processing plant, but otherwise it is just a small town for people going on the ferry. Nevertheless, everywhere you go in this town, you find this appealing glossy brochure of the town, inviting you to visit and enjoy the amenities and the surroundings, put out by their Chamber of Commerce. I wonder how many people actually have gone to this place for vacation based on this brochure. I suspect it would not be very many.

The town has two restaurants, but the prices were so outrageously high, we stopped at the Shell service station where they had an eating area and where they served a tasteless (frozen) chicken hamburger and fries for around $15 per portion. You can get tomato ketchup, if you wanted to. I saw a family of four with two kids, maybe 6 to 8 years old, and they each had the hamburger and fries plate. That is an expensive dinner for them, and they actually left most of their food uneaten. What surprised me is they could have ordered three portions and shared the food, and it would have been more than adequate. But we noticed that almost nobody shares the food they order in an eating place. They don’t have doggie bags for the leftover food either.

II: Føroyar, the Faroe Islands

Sun, 12 Sep 2004 23:54:05 -0700

Getting There.

The Narönna is a huge, new, ferry capable of carrying 1500 passengers and up to 800 cars. This was amazing, since I did not have the impression there were more than 800 cars in all of Iceland and the Faroe Islands combined. The Narönna has nine decks, stabilizing fins, a shopping center, a posh restaurant, a buffet restaurant, a cafeteria, two bars, a nightclub, a sauna, a solarium, a movie theater, a fitness center, and a swimming pool. She is 36,000 tons large, 164 meters long, 30 meters wide and can travel at around 21 knots through choppy seas. And here we were, expecting the ferry to be just an oversized tugboat. We had nice cabins, but we also saw a lot of young back-packing travelers sack out in the enclosed sections of the outside decks in sleeping bags; very discreetly in corners so as not to offend anyone or to create a disturbance. Some even have small portable stoves where they cook their dinner. But they all try hard to be as non-conspicuous as possible. This is a very civilized society. With all this bad weather, people just tend to be nicer to each other.

right: The Ferry Narönna.

It was gorgeous weather when we left Seyðisfjördur heading out to the open sea. The ship was very stable, even with 1 – 2 feet high waves. The ship, specially designed for rough seas, just cuts through these waves. Dinner was reasonable, after the prices we saw in Iceland. A simple dinner for two from the cafeteria with one beer and a shared dessert set us back €21.

The Faroe Islands

The official name of the country is Føroyar, which means “Sheep Islands” in Faroese. The flag, shown on the left, has the same pattern as the other flags of the Nordic countries. This flag is based on an offset red cross with a blue border on a white field.

left: The flag of the Faroe Islands.

The population is largely descended from the Vikings, who arrived and settled here in the 9th century.

The Faroes consist of a group of small islands with a total area of only 1400 sq km. The archipelago is what remains from a massive volcanic plateau. But now there is no more volcanic activity. There are hence neither steam geysers nor Blue Lagoons to tempt the visitor. The country is, geologically speaking, still quite young, so the mountains are craggy and very steep. There are waterfalls everywhere. Of the many islands only 18 are inhabited; on one there is only one family, so they need a lot of planning to get their supplies. Total population is around 49,000 humans and 70,000 shaggy Faroese sheep. The humans stay indoor in a structured environment, the sheep roam all over the place; unfettered by fences or other boundaries. You see them in ditches and high up on the steep flanks of the mountains where the only way to walk at the same in the same horizontal plane is to have the two outer feet longer than the two inner feet. Which would be awkward, I suppose, if you have to make a 180 degree turn.

Even with these few humans around, the Faroese still manage to field a soccer team, which plays in the Euro Cup and is entered in the World Cup tournament draw. Of course they never manage to advance to the second round, but they are still sufficiently feared by the other countries, especially when they play at home. After all, the visitors do not wish to lose one or more of their multimillion dollar professional player in a rough tumble with these Faroese fishermen, for whom soccer is just a sport they play after they come back from their fishing chores. And since the Faroese have nothing to lose, they can be rough and go all out to win.

The main source of income seems to be fishing and salmon aquaculture. The salmon grows very rapidly in these cold waters. There is some agriculture; not much, and the only thing they seem to farm are potatoes. I guess the soil and the weather precludes everything else. Fruits and vegetables are expensive because they have to be imported from Denmark. There is talk of promoting tourism more strongly to increase revenues, but there is also stiff opposition of many inhabitants who fear damage to their fragile environment. There are two beer breweries, but the Danish Government does not allow the Faroes to brew anything stronger than that.

The country is clean, just like in Singapore or Japan. There is no litter on the streets, on the sidewalks, or in the fields. Everybody picks up. We did not see one unsightly junk yard or automobile graveyard. The guide tells us that old cars are not scrapped here, but sent back to Denmark for disposal. And even though peat is occasionally used as heating, we did not see any unsightly scars in the landscape where people had dug for the fuel. As it is, most of the energy required comes from hydro-electric power plants. There are so many mountains and so much rain. In some places they are also starting to use wind-farms to harness energy from the wind. There is talk of using the tides to generate electricity.

Politically the Faroese are in an unusual situation. They are in a union with the Danish Kingdom, even though they are actually more closely related to Norway in language, architecture, and customs. They have been politically connected to Denmark since the 14th century, but as of 1948 the country enjoys a high degree of autonomy. But Denmark still puts a lot of money in the Faroe Islands. The currency in use is still the Danish kronor. Which makes for an interesting trivia question: “In which country is the Danish kronor used as currency?” The obvious answer is wrong. Because in Denmark the Euro is used as the official local currency.

Tórshavn

The ferry left Iceland at noon and we arrived in Tórshavn, the capital of the Faroe Islands the next day at 5 a.m. We were told that disembarkation was at 5:00 a.m. and, being inexperienced, that is what we did. We woke up at 4:15, got dressed and packed, and left the cabin at 5.00 a.m. sharp. We found out later that the ship actually remained in Tórshaven harbor until 9:00 a.m. before continuing on her journey. So we could have stayed in bed and disembark at our leisure anytime at a more civilized time before 9 a.m.

left: Another view of the colorful harbor of Tórshavn.

We had the inkling that something was amiss when we found out that there were just a handful of passengers disembarking that early, all of them foreigners with lost looks on their faces. The locals obviously knew better. At that point it was too late to go back to our cabins again. It was so early the immigration and customs officers of the Faroe Islands were not even there yet, so we just walked out unchallenged into their country. It felt a bit stupid to walk out of the ferry terminal in the dark. We walked to the hotel, which we knew was just half a block away. That is for doing some homework. We saw other passengers take a taxi to other hotels, just a block or so away. Obviously they were even more inexperienced.

Check-in time at the hotel Hafnia was 2 p.m., and the night clerk was surprised to see us stumbling into the lobby in the wee hours of the morning. They said that they could get us a room at 1 p.m. at the earliest because the hotel was full. We had lots of time to kill. So we sacked out in the hotel lobby until 8 a.m. and then went to the dining room to get some breakfast. After that we walked a bit around the town and came back at 10 a.m. It was gorgeous weather. Just a few clouds, very little wind, and the temperature was around 55ºF. The Faroe Islands are warmed by the Gulf Stream and so the temperature is almost always between 50 and 60ºF in the summer, and 40 to 45ºF in the winter. With very little pollution of the air, it is actually a very nice place to live.

The harbor of Tórshavn is very colorful, and one of the prettiest I have seen anywhere. The houses and the boats are painted in bright colors and the air is clear. On a sunny day there is a vibrant feeling in the air. The boats and the houses are mirrored in the calm waters. The architecture of the houses is similar to what we saw in Norway. Nothing fancy, utilitarian, and painted in very bright colors.

The hotel was very nice. Not only did they not charge us for the extra breakfast that morning, they had a room ready for us at 10. It was their one and only penthouse suite. I suppose they felt sorry for us, so they gave us their only suite. It had two adjoining rooms and a stunning view of the harbor. We stayed in that hotel for three nights and enjoyed every moment of it.

right: Dress Barn in Tórshavn.

In the afternoon we ambled over to Gluggagloema, which is a place to trip your tongue over, but it is also a barn where a dozen or so local artists were showing off their products. They were mostly clothes, and wool was the preferred medium. Faroese style is a bit conservative, I would say, but some of the tailoring is excellent.

left: View of Tórshavn from our hotel room

We had dinner at the hotel and we opted for the special Faroese dinner. It looked like a lot of food but they did not object to us sharing one menu. They actually were so kind as to split the portions in the kitchen already so we each received our own smaller portion which, together, would have been larger, I think, than the regular size portion. The appetizer was a plate with dried cod fish, dried whale meat, dried lamb, and lamb in aspic. The stuff was good, but the lamb had a rather strong and pungent smell. The dried whale meat had a sweet taste to it. The main course was braised puffin in a sweet marinade. You may have seen pictures of puffins, very endearing little birds with very colorful beaks. Puffin, we found out, tastes like duck, but it has a definitely fishy aftertaste. It was a bit difficult at first to eat these darling birds; it almost felt like you were eating your favorite cat.

I always ask this question when the subject comes to puffins. “You know”, I would say, “if puffins are male; what do you think they call the female puffin?” The answer is on the bottom of this page.

Dessert was soup. It was a cold rhubarb soup with cream and rhubarb tuile. Very good.

The Happy Faroese.

The next two days were gloomy, overcast, windy, with occasional showers. Which seems to be quite common there. But our guide, Arnold, was a very happy Faroese. He sincerely believes that the Faroese society is close to perfect. Nobody is very rich and nobody is very poor. Neighbors help each other. It is a very close-knit society. All you have to do is to put a ladder against your house and start painting and in half an hour there will be two or three neighbors joining in to help you. You start moving some boulders to build a pen for your sheep and pretty soon some neighbors will be there to assist you with the construction. I am not making this up, because we actually saw this happen as we visited some of the villages. The family is very important and they stick together. Children live unstructured lives, yet they all turn out OK. There are some social problems such as alcoholism and drugs, but he believes they are not severe. He said he should know, because he is a social counselor during the week and moonlights as a tour guide during the weekends.

The society is small, so everybody knows everybody. There is essentially no crime. The Faroese do not have an army, and all the time we were there, we did not see one single policeman. Arnold said that he was 14, when he his first saw a uniformed policeman in his life. Arnold also told us the story that there was one place where a policeman retired a few years ago, I suppose because of complete boredom. It took the authorities several months before they hired a replacement, and only because the community was making a lot of noise; after all, they had already paid for a policeman with their taxes. But for a few months there was no police there and there were no problems.

The only major crime he remembered happened a few years ago. A couple of Englishmen, known to be miscreants, came and visited the islands. Who and what were these international criminals, tagged by Interpol and notified to the local authorities? Well, they were known to collect bird eggs stealthily and surreptitiously, especially the rare ones. So the word got out and pretty soon everybody in the country was keeping an eye on them as they were walking on the beaches and in the dunes enjoying the bracing weather. Well, they did get manage to get some rare eggs from protected species, which they packed in specially designed boxes, and which they took to a post office to mail out to their homes. But they were caught, which just shows you that crime does not pay. And that was the major news story in the islands for several weeks.

Touring the Faroe Islands

We were picked up at 8:00 a.m. by our guide, Arnold, for a tour of the islands. There was another tourist, Bärbel Stuhlmann from Potsdam, in the minibus with us. For a map of the islands, click here. The most important island is Streymoy, where the capital Tórshavn is located. To the west is the island of Vágoy, where the airport is located. The two islands are now linked together through an underwater tunnel, more than 3 miles long. It must have cost Denmark a pretty penny to pay for the construction. To the East of the main island is the island of Esturoy, which is connected to Streymoy by a long and high bridge between Hvalvik and Oyri. This bridge, Arnold tells us with pride, “spans” the Atlantic Ocean.

Our first destination that day was the north of Esturoy. To get there we left our hotel and drove north and then crossed the bridge into Esturoy. The landscape on that island was quite mountainous, with steep hills, and lots and lots of waterfalls cascading down the steep walls of the mountains. The road hugging the steep walls becomes very narrow in many places, just wide enough for only one vehicle. There are turnouts at regular intervals, and drivers politely take turns moving into these turnouts to allow opposite traffic to drive through. There was not much traffic when we were there, and we wonder how things are when traffic picks up in the summer tourist season.

right: typical landscape in Esturoy.

There are lots of waterfalls, almost nobody around, and stone houses with sod roofs. No trees. Funninger is now a little village on the shores of the Atlantic Ocean, but more than a thousand years ago it was here that the Vikings first landed and established the foundation of the current village. I suppose we had to trust Arnold on this, because there were no signs or monuments to that effect on this dreary, windswept beach, and I am sure he wasn’t there himself when the Vikings landed.

After doubling back a bit, we continued north and came to Gjőgv, which sounds as if you had just swallowed something by accident. It is actually just a village with some 50 inhabitants, but in the summer the population soars to as many as 200-300. Just outside the village is a tiny fjord, with steps built to go down the steep incline to get to the water. There is a minuscule harbor for small boats. But on the lower level is a natural amphitheater, where there is a stage set against a large solidified lava wall.

left: The stage of the natural amphitheater at Gjögy.

The acoustics are said to be marvelous and concerts are regularly held there. What impressed me is that this little hamlet had not one, but two separate public toilets, both of them scrupulously clean, supplied with hot and cold water, soap, and freshly laundered towels. How more civilized can you get. Most cities with populations 100 times this hamlet in the “civilized” countries don’t even have a public toilet.

And on a hillside close to the city was a touching sculpture of a woman with two children looking wistfully out to sea, waiting for the husband and father who would never come back.

right: Sculpture honoring those who had lost their lives.

Behind her were plaques with the names of Faroese who had lost their lives in the stormy waters plying their trade as fishermen. The weather on the waters can be very fierce. Later this list was extended and there are now more recent plaques with the names of those who were killed in other types of accidents. There is also a church dating to 1923, where Christ is depicted in a painting walking on a watery landscape which is the view from the left side windows of the Church.

We drove back to the bridge, where we had lunch at a cafe nearby; fish (of course) in a crunchy batter, remoulade sauce, boiled potatoes (potatoes locally grown) and frozen vegetables (from Denmark.)

We then drove to Saksun, a village high up in the throat of a fjord, close to Vestmanna on the map. At lower elevations people were fishing in the lake. It was very peaceful. There was an old church and an old house which had been transformed into a museum, showing how people lived here 1000 years ago, but there was nobody around to open the doors for us.

We were back in the hotel at 3 p.m.. We sloshed through the rain in the evening to get to a pizza place for dinner.

The next morning we drove south from Tórshavn to Gamlaroett to catch the ferry to Skopun on the island of Sandoy. They have some very nice, modern, sleek-looking ferries with comfortable lounges to ease the pain of crossing. These ferries don’t use a rudder to change course; they have two propellors in the back sticking down below the hull, which can be rotated 360 degree, and with which the ship can be easily maneuvered into any desired direction. The crossing was a little rough.

From Skopun we drove to Dalur in the south of the island. Of course it was raining. The landscape in Sandoy is much flatter than in Esturoy. The hills are smaller, there is a lot of grass and grazing sheep. There was a wide harbor.

From here we drove north to Húsavik, which also had a harbor, albeit much smaller. The wind had picked up considerably in strength and the waves would sometimes rush over the protecting stone wall to deluge a number of smaller boats in the inner harbor.

left: Harbor of Húsavik, with the wind coming up.

We decided it was safer to stay in the car and suggested we move away. We didn’t really want to get washed into the Atlantic Ocean at that point.

Back in Húsavik town we visited a house several hundred years old, with earthen floor and with a hearth heated with peat. There was a church nearby and the organist came out and invited us to join them in their worship service. Which we accepted and where we almost fell asleep during the 1-hour service in Faroese. It was a small community and there were only 12 other people besides us. They obviously understood Faroese; we didn’t. But they were kind and hospitable.

right: a view of Húsavik. These stones in the soil make farming difficult.

Then we drove to Sandur, the main town on the island and visited the house of the daughter of the driver, who lived there with her husband and her three-year old daughter. It was a small, modern, and quite comfortable home; they even had a swing in the living room. It was just like any other middle-class home in a developed country.

Lunch was a hearty meal of boiled potatoes, haddock in sauce morné, apples, and mushrooms gratinée. Very nice. Then we drove to the ferry to go back to Streymoy.

We had just left the pier and we were pulling away. The ferry was maybe 30-40 yards from the pier, when we saw this passenger car racing down to the pier, lights blazing, and honking like mad. The driver had obviously just missed the ferry. No problem. The captain stopped the ferry, reversed course and steered the ferry back to the pier to pick up the late passenger car. It was not even an official Government car or somebody important or a good friend of the captain.. Where else in the world do you think this would happen? And it was not even a small car ferry; it was one with a capacity of maybe 30-40 cars. They are just quite relaxed and geműtlich as far as many things are concerned. Nobody complained.

The last day we were there it poured. The rain came down in buckets. I suppose it was time to move on. To the Shetland Islands this time. The plane was scheduled to leave in the afternoon, so we decided to stay at the town library, which was only half a block away from the hotel, but still made us pretty wet before getting there. They had a big section with English titles, which was helpful, since our Faroese was non-existent. And there was Internet access; that was helpful to catch up on things.

The airport shuttle bus picked us up at around 3 p.m. It was still raining and everywhere we saw waterfalls, large and small on the hills and on the slopes of steep mountains. The airport is located on an adjacent island. From there we flew to Aberdeen on Atlantic Airways, which was actually a Faroese company. Aberdeen was not our destination that day; it was Sunburgh airport in the Shetland Islands.

We were supposed to have gone from Tórshavn to the Shetland Islands by ferry, but there was a problem with the schedule. So we had to fly; first all the way to Aberdeen, and then back to Sunburgh.

A female puffin; a muffin of course

III: The Shetland Islands

Fri, 10 Sep 2004 21:56:35 -0700

Getting To the Shetland Islands.

The original plan was to take the overnight ferry to the Shetland Islands, but the sailing schedule had been changed in the fall, and we had to wait a few more days if we wanted to go by ferry. So the tour company arranged for air travel from the Faroe Islands to the Shetland Islands. There was no direct flight available and we had to settle for a flight via Aberdeen, which essentially tripled the distance to be covered.. And, as we found out later, they paid full fare for the tickets, and they charged us for it. They could have arranged this earlier, but they were so busy they could only arrange this part a few weeks before departure. There were actually a lot of air specials of British Airways going from Aberdeen to both the Faroe Islands as well as to the Shetland Islands.

The flight from Faroe to Aberdeen was by Atlantic Airways. This is a Faroese company flying several BAC 146-200 planes. This is the only commercial airline in the world where the announcements are made in Faroese. And also in English, luckily. Amazing that this small country is able to have their own commercial airline. Half of their shares are owned by the Faroese Government. But the flight from Aberdeen to the Shetland Islands was by British Airways.

The Shetland Islands.

left: The official flag of the Shetland Islands, already in use for some time, was officially approved as the national flag in 2005.

But the Union Jack is also still used, as shown in the top picture. The Shetlands Islands were part of Scotland for 500 years and part of Norway for also 500 years. The national flag of the Shetland islands takes the national colors of Scotland, blue and white, and inserts them in the offset cross design of the flags of the Scandinavian countries.

The Shetland Islands, just as the Faroe Islands, are a collection of islands. The archipelago has hundreds of islands, but only 16 are inhabited. The largest island is Mainland, and Sumburgh RAF Airport is on the south tip of this island. The tour company informed us that we had to find our own way to our hotel. It is not that far away, they said. What they did not know was that although the hotel was close to the ferry terminal, it was 30 miles away from the airport.

When we stepped out of the airport, the bus had already left and there were no taxis around. The locals know about the bus, so they run to catch it before it leaves. We found out later that the bus had to leave on schedule just a few minutes after the aircraft lands, because otherwise the taxis will get mad at the bus driver. They don’t want to lose out on lucrative fares. But since nobody told us about the situation, we looked at a few shops in the airport before we stepped out of the airport. By that time we were so late coming out of the terminal, there were not even taxis around anymore. We were stuck 30 miles from Lerwick. Everybody seemed to have left the area.

But we were very lucky. There was a van picking up the replacement crew of a vessel operated by Halliburton, which was working around the oil rigs in the North Sea. They go out there and work for four weeks and then the alternate crew takes over. Captain Sandy Phimester, in charge of the incoming crew, found out about our plight as we were standing there and kindly offered to take us to our hotel in his van. A savior and a gentleman. We had to squeeze to get in, because there were four of us. There were another two persons who were also taking the same tour and who were also stuck. We also had luggage.

The van was going to Scalloway, on the West side of Mainland, where their ship, the Viking Viper was berthed. So the driver had to make a detour to take us first to Lerwick, which is located on the East side of Mainland Island. It was a long drive and we did not realize at first how lucky we were. Thirty miles is a long way to walk in the dusk in a foreign country, even if the locals speak English. We are forever grateful to Sandy.

Lerwick

left: Lerwick Town Centre.

Lerwick is the capital of the Shetland Islands and we were booked in the Grand Hotel, presumably the best hotel on the Islands. Well, this was the first 4-star or whatever hotel we have stayed in, which did not have a lobby at all. Or even an elevator. You come in the door and immediately have to lug up your luggage up a steep flight of stairs to get to the small stall squeezed on the landing where the receptionist checks you in. There were another two flights of stairs to get to our rooms. The whole public area of the hotel seems to consist of staircases only. As we found out later, the breakfast room and the dining room were quite nice. And they do serve decent food at reasonable prices. We had dinner there one night. There were very few guests, which was surprising, since they were supposed to be one of the two best places to eat in town. We ordered one 3-course menu, one entrée of scallops, and a 2001 Semillon Chardonnay from Jacob’s Creek Winery in South Eastern Australia. The wine was almost as good as a Puligny-Montrachet. We enjoyed the food and the bill was about £50, which at that time was equivalent to $80.

right: Downtown Lerwick with the typical British architecture buildings.

We had a good English breakfast the next day and I opted for kippered herrings. That is at least one thing I like about English breakfast. The waitress was a Polish girl, and so was the cook. They have been were working in the Islands for a few months to make some money and their English was not very good yet. Since we do not speak Polish at all, it was difficult to communicate that I only wanted one herring, and even with my best efforts, every day for three days running they served me two huge kippered herrings for breakfast.

Notwithstanding the official flag, the Shetland Islands are definitely British. They are located some 100 miles of the north coast of mainland Great Britain. The architecture is British and the cars drive on the left. As befits the British, their demeanor is a bit stiff. We ambled around Lerwick in the morning; downtown Lerwick is fairly compact. Lerwick is also Britain’s most northerly town. The buildings look exactly how a British colonial down-town should look like. There is a castle somewhere there, as well as the inevitable cannons. The city fronts the Bressay Sound. Lerwick has a population of some 7000 inhabitants, and 6 public toilets strategically scattered over the town. Very civilized.

That afternoon we took a tour to the south part of the island, that is, back to the airport area again. But we made a detour to look at the landscape. It is completely different from the two other countries we visited earlier. Here are large expanses of gently flowing hilly terrain with lots of friendly looking green fields, heather, and moorlands. There is no place to generate hydro-electric power. A very high portion of the land looks arable. It is reminiscent of Scotland. But more often than not we see these huge ugly scars in the fields where people have dug into the ground to mine the peat they use for heating. And they are still doing this today, albeit perhaps in a smaller scale. The peat under the surface is often covered with less than one foot of soil. So, as you can imagine, the air is not as clear as in Iceland or in the Faroe Islands. The architecture of the houses is also quite different, i.e., it is nondescript British, and the colors are muted. But just as in Ye Olde England, many houses have flowers in their gardens. The place abounds with rabbits. There are rabbits everywhere. Some people make a living shooting the rabbits to keep their levels down. The rabbits retaliate by more prolific breeding.

left: A few of the Shetland ponies on the islands.

The population of the Shetland Islands comprises of 22,500 humans, 300,000 sheep, 1000 Shetland ponies, and some 800 cows. The sheep graze in large penned fields. No freewheeling sheep as in the Faroes. The Shetlands have always been known for their wool and for their ponies, small and sturdy, and specially bred in a number of farms. Because they are so isolated, the Islands have strong ties with the Royal Family. When Prince Andrew visited the Shetlands some thirty odd years ago, he was presented with Valkyrie, a Shetland pony. Nobody knows what happened to the pony since then.

The unemployment rate used to hover around 17%, but after the advent of North Sea oil, this rate has dropped to a minuscule 2 %. That is why those Polish girls come here for work. Sullum Voe, the major land terminal for the North Sea operations, is in the north of Mainland. The two major oil fields in the North Sea are Brent and Ninian, and pipelines from these two fields go to Sullum Voe, where the crude is recovered, fractionated to remove the light ends, and then shipped in tankers to their destinations around the world. A consortium of 32 oil companies operate out of Sullum Voe, but the terminal operator is BP. Shell is in charge of movements of the oil in and out of the terminal. The oil fields are in British and Norwegian waters. The Shetland Government gets £0.01 or about 1.8 US cents royalty per barrel of oil going through the terminal. That should add up to a lot of money, but I do not get the impression that the infrastructure of the island is so much better than in Iceland or in the Faroe Islands. Or as well-kept. There are no undersea tunnels between the islands, so it takes a long time to travel between the islands. I wonder where all that money goes.

Jarlshof

In the south of Mainland there is, besides the airport, Jarlshof. Next to this castle is an archeological site where remains of buildings and artifacts spanning some 5000 years have been found.

right: The ruins of Jarlshof Castle.

Chronologically there were (1) traces of the bronze age; 4 – 4.5 thousand years old. (2) the iron age; 1 – 1.5 thousand years old, (3) remains of the Picts coming in from East and North Scotland, (4) remains of the Vikings, who came in around 600-800 AD, and who slowly displaced the Picts.

Then came the Scots, who displaced the Vikings; then the Dutch, and then the Hanseatic Traders. A lot of blood has flown here over this landscape. In 1469 Shetland became part of Scotland and Jarlshof castle was built on this site. But the ruins of Jarlshof castle, dark and foreboding, are still there.

Dunrossness.

left: A house of a small landowner in the 1850’s.

An interesting place we visited is the Shetland Croft House in Dunrossness. This is a house from the 1850’s showing how the Shetland crofter (or small landowner) lived in those days. It is a simple structure with just a few rooms. You can see codfish drying in front of the hearth, fueled by peat. Part of the house is used to shelter their sheep and cows, if they had any. They have to go outside to get their drinking water from a deep well.

The Island of Unst.

The next day we drove north. At Toft we took the ferry to Ulsta on the island of Yell, a pleasant 20 minute smooth ride in a new ferry boat. In the waters around we saw a lot of salmon farming as well as mussels farming. The salmon is first hatched and grown into fingerlings in fresh-water tanks, and then later transported into the enclosed areas of the sea.

From Ulsta we drove up to West Sandwich, a little place with about a dozen homes, and then further to Gutcher, where we stopped for coffee in a pleasant combination picnic room, cafeteria, library, music room, meeting room, store, etc.

right: Community house in West Sandwich.

Then onwards and another ferry, this one to Belmont on the island of Unst. We drove all the way to the north and in the distance we saw the most northern structure in the UK, an unmanned lighthouse The landscape of Unst was placid. There were the usual low hills, large green fields, heather, bogs, and large scars in the ground, where peat has been mined out. At the outermost northern areas, the coastline reminded us of the California Coast. At the beach at the Wick of Skaw, the water flowing into the sea was wine-red, loaded with tannins from the peat.

We also drove by the most northerly bus stop in the UK.

The most northerly public bus stop in the UK.

This bus stop is at the end of the line and actually only serves one house at the end of the road. I don’t know how the close the bus follow their schedules. But the owner of the house obviously does not want to miss the bus if needed to go somewhere, and he/she was prepared to wait long periods in the stop if needed. The bus may decide to turn around well before this point if the driver did not see anybody in the bus stop. So there were potted plants, embroidered drapes, an easy chair, a telephone, a computer and, in case he/she wanted a hot snack, a microwave oven. It was home away from home, and from the furnishings, most probably decorated by a woman.

right: the ruins of Muness Castle.

Close by were the ruins of Muness Castle, which was originally built by Laurence de Bruce in 1598. There was a sudden downpour and we had to find refuge in a little shop selling “hand-woven” Shetland sweaters. On closer examination it seems that both the rack a well as the sweaters were probable machine-made in China.

After lunch in the hotel in Baltasound, we stopped at the Unst Heritage Center, where they display a number of artifacts from the area. Then we drove back to Lerwick to our hotel. Dinner was in an Indian restaurant just a few hundred yards north of the Esplanade. The Raba restaurant was located just across the Viking Bus Lines terminal. Good Indian food.

It was a nice day and when we asked the guide what the weather would be the next day, he answered: “Tomorrow is half a year away ………. “

Scalloway

He was right. The next day was miserable, but not as bad as in the Faroes. The Shetlands are more southerly and the weather is a bit more agreeable. We visited the Museum and later in the morning took the public bus to Scalloway, a town on the West of Mainland hugging a crescent bay.

left: The friendly little harbor of Scalloway.

The two main attractions of Scalloway are the well-preserved ruins of a castle and a highly rated restaurant associated with the North Atlantic Fisheries College. Unfortunately they were quite a distance apart which makes it difficult to visit them both that day and be back in time. When we came there the wind was blowing quite strongly, so we chose to go to the restaurant, called “De Haaf”. We would have chosen the restaurant anyway, but the wind made it guilt-free. It was a cafeteria-style affair, but the food was good and reasonably priced, going for £6-8 for a main course, starch and vegetables. It was a good place to eat. For that area it was certainly the best restaurant around.

From the bus stop we walked through Fort Charlotte, built in 1680 and never completely finished before it was decommissioned. We also decided to look in the Larwick Museum. They had lots of odds and ends, including a 1923, 350 cc motorcycle.

right: A well-preserved 350 cc Ariel motorcycle in the museum.

We returned to the Grand Lerwick Hotel that afternoon and lugged our luggage down those steep stairs. A taxi took us to the ferry terminal about a mile and a half away. There were the four of us plus our luggage and the fare was only £4, including tip. Yes, Shetland is much less expensive than the two other countries we visited earlier.

With the m.v.“Hrossey” to Aberdeen.

left: The mv. Hrossey; the ferry to Aberdeen, as seen from the ferry building terminal.

When we were in the ferry building, there was a sign saying that because of the bad weather, we may be delayed getting into Aberdeen. The ferry company would assist passengers in getting alternative arrangements to get to Aberdeen if we opted not to go with the ferry. That was the diplomatic way to say we would be getting bad weather. The expected winds were expected to be as high as level 8, which is gale strength. This was rather disquieting news; ferries have been known to founder in winds less fierce.

right: A lounge in the modern ferry, with a museum display case as decoration on one wall.

But the “Hrossey” was new, and with a maximum speed of 24 knots she sliced through the waves with only little shaking. And the waves were as high as 8 feet at times. It was not easy walking because of the pitching of the boat. You had to hold on to a railing to be able to get anywhere. The winds did get to level 7, but we slept reasonably well even with being tossed around in our bunks, and we did get to Aberdeen two hours later than the scheduled time. This time we took our time getting dressed and ambled to the cafeteria for breakfast just as the ship was heaving into port. We were back in Scotland.

IV: Aberdeen to Glasgow

Wed, 8 Sep 2004 23:31:41 -0700

Aberdeen.
The mv “Hrossey” arrived in Aberdeen at 9:00 a.m., which was 2 hours later than the scheduled time of arrival because of the bad weather and the high swells. There is apparently a barrier close to port, which the ship has to go through. If it was too foggy, they had to wait until the weather cleared.
We were one of the last passengers to leave the ferry and the guy of the Arnold Clark car rental agency was already there, together with a few other customers. It was still some distance to their office where, as part of the tour, we would get a rental car to drive for two days. We were to drive to Glasgow, from where we would be flying home.
Waiting for us was a wine-red VW Golf with 26,000 miles and half a tankful of gas. And yes, we would be driving on the left side of the road. With a 5-speed manual transmission. It was overcast and chilly when we arrived in Aberdeen, but the weather was a balmy 15℃ when we left for the scenic coastal road to Glasgow.
Driving to Glasgow
left: The once impregnable Dunnottar Castle.
About 15 miles out of Aberdeen there wast Dunnottar Castle on the coast. It was constructed off and on in the 13th - 17th century and was one of the most impregnable fortresses at that time, build on an island a few hundred feet off the coast. But fortifications may already have been built there some 700 years earlier. From the mainland you have to go down a steep path about 150 feet to sea level before climbing up the steep cliffs through a cleft in the rocks to the main gate to get into the castle. So there is always water on three sides of the island. And the main gate is easily defended, because the attackers would be assaulted by the defenders from all directions. And the castle grounds are about 150 feet of steep cliffs above the sea level, encircled with heavy nasty-looking walls.
It was an impregnable setup. Until the cannon was developed.
In 1651, a garrison of only 70 Scottish men held out for 8 months against the vastly superior forces of the English General Overton, who was out there to capture the royal crown, sword, and scepter of Scotland, which were held in the castle. Then the heavy cannons came. On an adjacent hill we saw traces of the gun emplacements where the guns had been placed to pound the inhabitants of the castle into submission. But the English were denied the regalia, which were smuggled out during the siege. The castle itself is now in ruins, but a few walls were still standing. A very edifying example of how man should never rest on his laurels. On a more recent note, the 1990 film version of Hamlet starring Mel Gibson, was filmed here.
Our road took us north to cross the Firth of Tay, where we paid our 80p toll, and then we drove further in the direction of St. Andrews. Lunch was in a cute inn-restaurant, the 200-year old St, Michaels Inn in Leuchars, where we had the senior menu, one appetizer, and a big glass of beer. It was a very nice place to have lunch.
right: If you play golf, this is it, the Clubhouse at the St. Andrews Links.
In the hallowed fields of St. Andrews golf was and is still revered, only to be approached with bated breath and with an religious reverence. It is also good for the economy of the region. There are actually quite a number of golf courses spread out over the area, but the most well-known is the St. Andrews Links. We drove around and visited a number of courses; took some pictures of the Clubhouse and the Links and behaved very much as the ordinary tourist.
The we left and drove over the Firth of Forth to Glasgow. The last time I drove over this bridge was in 1952.
Glasgow
The tour included reservations at Langs Hotel, which was rated as a 4-star establishment. But we could not find the entrance and not even a place where we could stop, let alone park. Finally I found somebody who told me to drive into an alley behind the hotel to unload, and then to drive the car to some commercial garage to park. This was downtown Glasgow, and there was really not much space for automobiles. Had we come by bus, the main bus terminal was just half a block away from the hotel. Langs hotel was very nice; the staff was friendly; the furniture was modern. In their nice-looking, modern breakfast room, they served a very good breakfast with a lot of variety in cereals, fruits, sausages, and other stuff to start the day right.
Langs Hotel was conveniently situated in the center of town, right across the Royal Concert Hall, the Buchanan Gallery, the George Square, and the beginning of Buchanan Street, the wide, pedestrian only commercial street with shops, restaurants, cafes, and other venues to satisfy a wide range of desires of the visitor.
left: Sex sells. A lower-end eating establishment on Buchanan Street.
The next morning we ambled down Buchanan Street, looking at the shops and other offerings. A bit further down is George Street, where the Tourist Information Office was located. That was a good place to find out what was happening. We took a city tour on an open-top double decker bus. For £6, the senior rate, we received a narrated city tour. The ticket can be used to get off and on this tour bus at any of the stops, and it can also be used on any First Bus for the next 2 days.
The Museum for Contemporary Art, housed in an elegant, neo-classical building was just around the corner. I believe it has been renamed “The Gallery of Modern Art”. It had a number of interesting pieces including a cardboard church on its side and inside it a video of a naked man chanting a piece called “Dead Church; Real Life”. It didn’t appear to be laudatory piece on the joys of religion.
right: A modern piece in the Museum of Contemporary Art.
And in the front of the museum is a sculpture of the Duke of Wellington on a horse. But somebody with a hilarious bent had stuck a traffic cone on his head, gathering a lot of chuckles from the passersby. I don’t know how he did it, because the cone was at least 20’ above the street level. I was told that the authorities regularly remove this cone, but it somehow always reappears joyfully on the head of the Duke.
left: The Duke of Wellington blithely sporting a traffic cone as hat.
In the afternoon we picked up our car from the garage and drove to see the Burrell Collection, an extensive collection of some 900 works of art donated by Sir William Burrell and his wife to the City. The collection is housed in the park-like setting of Pollok House, in the 360 acres Pollok Estate, which is still inside the City boundaries, but far enough from downtown.
The Burrells appear to be indiscriminate collectors, acquiring seemingly everything which had some perceived artistic, historical, or archeological value. They did not concentrate on selected subjects, because we saw tapestries, stained glass, Egyptian hieroglyphs and carvings, classical European furniture, paintings by Degas and Cèzanne, sculptures by Rodin, and lots of stuff from China, Egypt, Greece and Italy. I suspect their warehouse is a really big jumble of everything under the sun.
Of special interest in the Burrell Collection the day we were there was the exhibit “One Million Days in China”. You can actually now visit this exhibition on-line. “The Chinese Community in Glasgow” was telling, showing how the family had integrated over the generations into the local population.
right: The Burrell Collection. In the foreground is the cafeteria.
The buildings have been (re)designed to house the different aspects of the collection. It was very nicely done. And the cafeteria was especially attractive.
In the evening we went to the Tron Theater to watch the play “Good Things” by Liz Lochhead. It was an amusing yet poignant story of a recently divorced woman, battling a teenage daughter,while trying to find a new and successful relationship the second time around. There were at least 10 different characters. maybe more. But when the play ended, only 2 men and 2 women showed up. They had changed costumes and characters so fast during the play, we didn’t even notice that only 4 actors were involved. That was an amazing feat of acting.
left: Stage for “Good Things” in the Tron Theater.
We parked the car on the street some two blocks away from the hotel. It was still there the next morning, when we got there with our luggage to go to the airport. Well, the City must have liked us. But now we were going home.