7/15/25: Reykjavik's National Museum of Iceland

 

 Steven and I started our last day in Reykjavik, before returning in two weeks, at the National Museum of Iceland. Although the humble island of isolated farms had left behind few artifacts, the museum did a commendable job of showcasing the best of what had survived.

The Book of Icelanders and The Book of Settlement are historical sources that document the country's settlement, with Norse people establishing settlements circa 870. Archaeological research largely supports the written sources about the date and scope of the settlement.

There is some discussion about whether the human, bronze figure, dated to around 1000, represents one of the Norse gods, Þór, also known as Thor, or whether it represents Jesus Christ. Is he holding Þór's hammer or a Christian cross? Although the pagan worship of Norse gods was the prevalent religion from 800 to 1000, Christians had been present in Iceland from the beginning, and the two groups apparently coexisted peacefully. Steven and I visited the site on the country's southeast coast today, July 24th, where Christianity was made official in Iceland in 1000. More on that later!

The museum's collection included a few objects from the Settlement Age, such as pendants found in graves, a tiny mask, and this candle holder, as well as enormous brass dome brooches. 

Few artifacts have survived from the early days of Christianity in Iceland, possibly because it took time for the new religion to become established and for the church to acquire religious items. Some Christian items have been found in pagan graves, as they were seen as ornaments, indicating that they were ambivalent about their beliefs. This 10th-century, silver cruciform pendant was similar to ones found in southern Scandinavia, the Baltic region, and Russia.

Wooden doorposts in Iceland's medieval churches were elaborately carved; however, because timber was always in short supply in the country, the wood was often recycled and reused. 

I was impressed with the museum's collection of liturgical vestments and tapestries, which included this late 15th-century Gothic-style chasuble...

... and these early 16th-century embroidered altar frontals, as well as this altarpiece.

Another important piece in the collection was the Figure of Christ from a cross, now lost, that hung in a church in Ufsir in North Iceland. It is believed to have been made in Iceland around 1200. He is depicted bearded and wearing a loincloth, as was the norm in such images. His uplifted head, open eyes, and outstretched arms at right angles were typical of the Romanesque style. 

The exquisite wood-carved Valþjófsstaður Door from the church in eastern Iceland also dates to around 1200 and is believed to have been carved in Iceland. It is the only carved door that still exists in Iceland. The top panel illustrated the story of a knight who slew a dragon to slay a lion. Like many valuable Icelandic objects, the door was removed for safekeeping to Denmark, which controlled Iceland, until it was returned in the 1930s. 

Drinking horns were commonly used as toasts on special occasions in the Nordic world among members of the ruling class during the Middle Ages. However, it was only in Iceland that they were carved. The oldest one dates back to the first half of the 15th century. 

This horn was carved with scenes from the Old and New Testaments by Brynjólfur Jónsson, a skilled carver in Skáro, South Iceland, in 1598.

When Gudbrandur's Bible was printed in Icelandic in 1584, it was the first complete translation of the Bible into Icelandic. As a result of the Protestant Reformation, which originated in Europe and subsequently spread to Iceland, the majority of Icelanders remain Lutheran. 

Whalebone was used to make a variety of objects because it was both durable and decorative. Jónsson was also the artist behind these painstakingly carved items made from whalebone. 

Many Icelanders made a living off the sea, fishing from simple, open rowing and sailing boats in the late 19th century. The four-man fishing boat, Ingjaldur, was built in 1898, and decades later, an engine was added to enhance its utility. It was sold to the museum in 1972. 

These fierce harpoons, equipped with retractable barbs, were used in the 1800s and early 1900s to hunt sharks, as their livers were prized for the oil, which was used in lamps across Europe. 

The desk belonged to Jón Sigurðsson, considered one of Iceland's leading figures in the 19th-century fight for independence from Denmark. With more than 8,000 of his letters still in existence, his letter-writing campaign encouraged his fellow countrymen in the campaign for self-determination, a national constitution, and an end to the trade monopoly. 

This was a typical Icelandic baðstofa, or farmhouse, that was used for hundreds of years throughout the country. It had four small beds, was made either of turf or driftwood because few trees remained in Iceland after the Settlement Era. My apologies for the ghastly color of the first image.

The Blue and White was an early, unofficial Icelandic flag, first flown by a young Icelandic fisherman in 1913 from his boat in Reykjavik, until a Danish coast guard ship seized the "unauthorized" colors. After irate Icelanders demanded that the issue be resolved, the Danish king finally decided that Iceland deserved its own banner. After the blue and white flag was mistaken for Sweden's, a red cross was added to Iceland's. The country received its independence from Denmark on June 17, 1944. 

The struggle for the country's economic independence continued, as it sought control of the fishing grounds. Between 1950 and 1975, Iceland gradually expanded its fishing limits in phases to 200 nautical miles; however, British trawlers occasionally fished within the zone. These giant, trawl wire cutters were probably the only "weapon" ever invented by Iceland. They were used during the Cod Wars between Iceland and the UK (1958-1970), by the Icelandic Coast Guard to cut the trawl wires of British boats fishing in Icelandic waters. The pacifist Icelanders note that this was the only "war" in their history, and it involved no bloodshed.

I had also hoped to write about our fun time on Reykjavik's Viðey Island and the "only live lava show in the world" in this post, but it's after midnight, and Steven and I have a boat trip reserved to see a glacier in a lagoon first thing in the morning. Those will have to wait until the next post, hopefully written sometime soon from Greenland if we have wifi on the ferry. My apologies if you were hoping for more than my take on The National Museum of Iceland in this post!

Posted on July 24th, 2025, from Skálafell on Iceland's southeast coast, as we almost round out our marvelous tour of Iceland. Wishing you and your loved ones good health and happiness.

7/14/25: Iceland's Scenic Golden Circle Tour

The Golden Circle, Iceland's classic day trip from the capital of Reykjavik, has been a popular destination for travelers dating at least as far back as 1874, when Danish King Christian IX visited the island and followed its 'grand tour.' Steven and I took the scenic route toward the first stop, Þingvellir National Park, also known as Thingvellir, via a craggy mountain range and a geothermal plant. 

A giant hot-water pipe connected to the Nesjavellir geothermal power station sends 250 gallons of boiling water through the pipe to the capital every second, and also generates electricity. 

Our first, of far too many lava fields to count, in Iceland! This one was from an eruption a thousand years ago. 

The mountain-ringed Dyradalur Valley:

Toward the shore of Þingvallavatn, but anglicized as  Thingvallavatn. Vatn is Icelandic for 'lake.'

Igloo-like structures indicated where a borehole was drilled, with each little pipe feeding into a larger one.

The road wound tightly around the lake with marvelous views, but no guardrails and several narrow blind summits that added some excitement to the beginning of our day!

The gorge at Þingvellir, close to the hearts of Icelanders, was dramatic because it allowed us to readily see the slow separation of the North American and Eurasian tectonic plates, and how the Earth's crust is literally being torn apart. 

The view over Þingvellir, with the Öxará River, Þingvellir's church, and the five-gabled farm building that dates back to 1930, was just stunning. However, this was the great fissure, where the two tectonic plates were moving apart, and the lake had slid into the gap between the two plates. Think of it like pulling a big, chewy cookie apart very slowly, then seeing cracks in the dough, and eventually crumbs falling into the gap. 

As we walked through Almannagjá, or Everyman's Gorge, it was like tracing the boundaries of continents, with America to our left and Europe to our right in simplistic terms. 

Unfortunately, I didn't get the best picture, but the area in the foreground is of utmost importance to the people of Iceland. It was where local chieftains began to gather in approximately 930 at an annual meeting, known as the Alþingi. That is why Þingvellir is considered by many as the country's first capital. Þingvellir was designated a national park in 1930 to commemorate the millennium anniversary of the first Alþingi. An independent Republic of Iceland was proclaimed in this spot in 1944.

Beyond the Alþingi was Drekkingarhylur or Drowning Pool, where women accused of witchcraft were drowned between the 16th and mid-18th centuries. 

A gravel path led to a picture-perfect waterfall called Öxarárfoss, where the Öxará River rises up on the plateau and plunges over the cliff face into the valley. As foss translates to 'waterfall' and there are so many all over the island, that would be another Icelandic word we'd become very familiar with!

Though this church was built in 1859, churches have stood on this spot for centuries. The original one may have been constructed using timbers sent by Norway's King Olav II (995-1030). Because we were short of time, I wasn't able to see the painted interior. The house behind it was built for the local priest who was also the park warden. It is now used for ceremonial functions. 

En route to the next stop on the Golden Circle loop were more seemingly endless lava fields and the Kálfstindar mountain range.

Arriving at lovely Laugarvatn and catching sight of the Fontana Thermal Baths on the lakeshore was well worth the lava views, however! Spending time at one of Iceland's thermal baths was on our radar, but it wasn't on the busy loop drive today. 

We'd come for the Icelandic traditional thermal bread experience, where the staff bake sweet, dense rye bread in the thermal sands a few yards from the baths! We knew from the market the day before in Reykjavik, where we'd first seen the bread, that there is a long tradition of baking rúgbrauð in geothermal areas. After a hole is dug in the sand until boiling water is reached, a pot with dough is placed in the ground and sand shoveled over it. 

We were fortunate that we were only a few minutes late to watch a baker dig up a pot of bread, called rúgbrauð, which had been 'buried' 24 hours earlier and then topped with a stone to mark its location. 

The baker mentioned that it depends on Mother Nature whether the loaf was overcooked or undercooked. Voilà, once he unwrapped the plastic wrap on the pot, took off the lid, and removed the parchment paper, the loaf looked perfect and ready to eat! It smelled quite sweet when we sniffed it.

The start of the geothermal heating system at Laugvatn was in 1928, which coincided with the construction of the district school building, allowing the hot springs to be utilized for heating the school. 

Each mound with a rock on top had a pot underneath it. The water at the edge of the lake, heated by natural hot springs, was quite hot, although we were told it's much cooler the further you get from the edge. 

We then watched as another staff member buried a pot in another area, as we'd missed that part earlier. She told us that the staff had a map indicating where each pot was buried underground, and that a maximum of 17 pots could be buried each day. The number is normally determined by the number of bus groups.

We bought some of the bread from the cafe because we were curious about what it tasted like. Steven thought it was too sweet and was more like cake. I admit to having a sweet tooth, but the overpowering taste of molasses was off-putting to me.

Since our first view of hundreds of hay bales wrapped in white plastic here on the Golden Circle a week ago, I still find them a mesmerizing sight. The white plastic preserves the hay by reflecting sunlight, which helps keep it cooler and reduces the risk of overheating and mold growth.

Just past Efstidalur II, a small farm was augmenting its income by harnessing geothermal power. It was remarkably peaceful, in contrast to the large crowds of people at the Geysir Geothermal Field just a few minutes away. Did you know that when people talk about geysers, they're referring to this place on the Golden Circle called Geysir, which literally means "the gusher"?

Although this sign warned of the high water temperatures, there were no safety measures, such as boardwalks, that we were accustomed to in U.S. parks. The change was welcoming.

On the path to the main event, the miniature Litli Geyser bubbled and boiled but didn't erupt.

The centerpiece was a geyser called Strokkur, which translates to Butter Churn, and erupted approximately every five to ten minutes. Again, we were lucky, as it shot up a wall of water about 50 feet into the air within minutes of our arrival. Unlike at Yellowstone National Park, visitors could get very close to the geyser, making the experience all the more powerful. We watched a couple of eruptions from different spots, noticing each one was a little different in intensity. 

A few yards up the hill were other fumaroles and hot pools. 

Ahead was the original Great Geyser, which was the only one medieval Europeans knew and is the origin of the word 'geyser.' It only rarely and unpredictably blows higher and longer than Strokkur.

Watching Strokkur from another angle, we waited a few minutes for a dome-shaped bubble to appear a second before it erupted almost on cue. Nothing like instant gratification, seeing Iceland's most active geyser!

About ten minutes further on was Gullfoss, one of Iceland's most impressive waterfalls, and in a land of many waterfalls, that's saying something. Fields of fluffy cotton grass bordered the path to the falls. We didn't realize then how common the sight would be throughout the rest of Iceland.

Sigríður Tómasdóttir (1871-1957) was an Icelandic environmentalist who fought against harnessing Gullfoss for power, as she wanted the waterfall to flow from the rock face for as long as Mother Nature permitted and for it to remain untouched by human intervention. 

Sigríður is  pictured second from the right:

Views from the lower viewpoint as we followed the 'line of ants' to the spectacular falls!

The thundering Gullfoss, which means Golden Falls, gives the Golden Circle its name. 

Many people choose to end the Golden Circle circuit after seeing the three main sights and return to Reykjavik. Not us, as we were still game for more.

Tiny Faxafoss was a lovely little waterfall, but not on the scale of Gullfoss. It was the first time we encountered a substantial charge to park at a public site in Iceland, and that was because the parking lot was located on private land. It was to be the first of many similar charges, and at about $8 a pop, plus a $2.50 fee to use a WC, it adds up.

Snow thistles are very common in southern Iceland, particularly along highways, but this was the first time I had the chance to take some pictures of them.

A fish ladder had been built beside the falls for the convenience of spawning salmon. 

We didn't actually see a town called Reykholt, but I had fun wandering around its Friðheimar Tomato Farm Restaurant while Steven catnapped in the car. Their motto is: "Tomato soup is our claim to fame." That was because, in a land of long, dark winters, early frosts, and cool summers, many fruits and vegetables can only thrive in geothermically powered greenhouses. 

Growing tomatoes in greenhouses has been a tradition in the Friðheimar family since 1946. They claim to produce nearly half of all tomatoes in Iceland, shipping two tons to Reykjavik every day, year-round.

Fancy eating tomato soup with bread, fresh pasta with tomato sauce, tomato ice cream, or cheesecake with green tomato sauce in the muggy warmth of a greenhouse? Well, I know just the place!

Taking advantage of a nearby hot spring, the greenhouse walls were lined with heat-radiating water pipes. The farm utilizes geothermal energy to generate electricity, powering its lights and providing a form of synthetic sunshine during the depths of winter. 

Chris: This place would have been right up your alley! Here were some of the items offered in the gift shop.

The wine bar appeared to be a popular spot in the late afternoon. And, I didn't see any tomato-based drinks!

I wonder if there was a more extensive menu inside?

When I got back to the car, Steven joked that one nice thing about driving in Iceland is not having to run out of daylight, because it's still so light at 11 pm!

A few minutes from the farm was the historic Skálholtskirkja or Skálholt Cathedral. Kirkja translates to 'church.'  The church was the former seat of the bishop of southern Iceland, built shortly after the year 1000 when Icelanders converted to Christianity. The tenth church on the site was consecrated in 1963.  

We didn't fully appreciate the locally made stained-glass windows then, not realizing how rare such windows are in Iceland's Lutheran churches. 

The names of a thousand years of bishops lined the back wall!

I spent a few minutes in the crypt, examining a 14th-century stone coffin and other archaeological artifacts. 

As the Episcopal See was the capital of Iceland and the cultural center of the most populous part of the country for approximately 750 years, Skálholt is one of the most significant sites in Iceland's history. 

Beside the 'new' church stood a turf church that was built in 2010 by a local craftsman using no modern tools and only materials that were faithful to those used when a turf church was built during the first half of the 16th century, following the destruction of the church in Skálholt by fire. It was used for services while the new church was being built. 

The warden said that services are sometimes still held in the turf church and that it was rare to have two functioning churches side by side. Driftwood would have been used for the original church, or wood brought over from Norway, as Iceland was essentially treeless in the Middle Ages. 

The churches were flanked by a retreat center run by Iceland's Evangelical Lutheran state church. I could see what a welcome respite it would be after the crowds of people we had encountered at the Golden Circle's main sights.

I had never known of a church providing a home for the organist before then. 

Our last sight of the day was the multi-colored Kerio Crater, a volcanic cone that collapsed and filled with water after an eruption about 6,500 years ago, creating a tiny crater lake. After paying to park, we walked to the edge and peered in. I wanted a better view, so I descended 150 feet down a set of stairs.

The crater's tawny colored walls were quite beautiful in the early evening hours. 

Although it was still an hour's drive back to Reykjavik, our Golden Circle tour was like a highlight reel of what Steven and I would experience as we drove around the rest of the country, with more geothermal activity, waterfalls, and turf buildings from eons ago.

Next post: Traipsing around Viðey Island and the world's only live lava show!

Posted very late on July 21st, 2025, from Húsavík in northern Iceland, very close to the Arctic Circle! Wherever you are, please don't forget to take care of yourself and your loved ones.