Yesterday I wrote about Saturday’s run, which found me over the border from Reykjavík in the neighboring town of Seltjarnarnes. Today, after about 24 hours of insane winds (33-46 mph during the day, according to the weather report), the morning arrived clear and sunny with only mild winds (15 mph), so Erik and I decided to take advantage. We had a 7-mile walk around the Seltjarnarnes and Reykjavík peninsula, finishing with a late lunch at Reykjavík’s Old Harbor. I’m just a little sun- and wind- burned now, but it was worth it. There were very few other people out and it felt like we had the whole edge of Iceland to ourselves.
{as always, mouse over photos for description, or click to enlarge}
We began along Eiðsgrandi on the north side of the city (west of Saebraut where we used to walk in the previous apartment), looking out at the now-familiar view of the mountain Esja. And behold! There is SNOW on it!
“Yeah yeah,” you say, “snow in Iceland. What’s the surprise?” Well, there was no snow on it three days ago, that’s what.
We were very happy to be walking along a stretch of Eiðsgrandi with tons of seabirds and visible waves. It looked like the California coast. We were a little puzzled by all the bits of seaweed we saw along the pavement, however.
Sometimes life gives you conundrums and then hands you the answer all tied up in a bow. On our way back along this same trail, I was astonished when a large wave bounced up along the rocks, splashing me with spray and flinging little fragments of seaweed at us. Mystery solved.
I noted that the seafront homes here look futuristic to me, but not in the way of blockbuster movies — those dystopian fantasies of glass and lights and metal, dreamed up by Angelenos. This is a different flavor of futuristic, with sharp angles, clean surfaces and artistic use of color, imported grass, and pleasing balance.
When we looked behind us we could see the city.
We walked and talked, the noon sun shining down on us and making me glad for my sunglasses. It wasn’t really that cold, but the wind sometimes snatched up my words and breath, hurling them away from me. Erik kept covering his chilly ears with his hands.
After much walking, we reached the westernmost tip of the peninsula, and the (kind of) island of Grótta. We could have crossed the isthmus to get to it, but the tide was rising and we felt it would be better not to risk it. It is not a large island; that lighthouse is basically it. We contented ourselves by reading the signs and deciding we’d come back sometime when the tide was lower.
After Grótta I expected we would just be turning back to go home, but the trail continued along the tip of the peninsula for some time. We saw a funny wooden structure, and then the ground on our right rose into grass-lined sand dunes.
Then: a pond, nearly blinding in the sun, with birds at its periphery and the sea and the dunes as its neighbors.
The 18th-century Danish house Nesstofa, now part of the Laekningaminjasafnið (the Medical History Museum of Reykjavík), makes the already beautiful scenery even more picturesque!
As we got to the south end of the pond we saw a signboard indicating that it was Bakkatjörn, another nature reserve.
There was also a parking lot there, and some picnic tables, and a little structure whose exact purpose we couldn’t quite guess — but it made a convenient (and sheltered) place to sit.
There was also a golf course but we just stopped at its entrance, while greylag geese flew overhead. They are pretty birds with pinkish bills and feet. We’d seen their Latin name on one of the signboards and Erik called it at them: “Anser anser!” (He remarked: “It’s how you respond to ‘question question’!”)
After Bakkatjörn the path turned properly back toward Seltjarnarnes center (and Reykjavík beyond it).
We started to discuss lunch. Suddenly I spotted a grey and white cow-cat along the rocks; it looked very much like our own Lyapa (who is happy and well-petted and getting steadily fatter in San Jose with my parents!). The cat gave us a suspicious stare and then continued on its way… toward the bird reserve (and its lunch) maybe? I wonder.
We passed many mushrooms, houses, a park, and the Seltjarnarnes athletic facility (where the swimming pools’ water is said to be full of minerals). After deciding on soup for lunch, we stopped first at Björnsbakarí for a cheese bun (to tide us over till our meal) and then backtracked on Eiðsgrandi toward the city. We passed the spot where I took this photo during our first week in Iceland. We passed Sara Riel’s Fönix mural. Finally we stopped at Höfnin restaurant in the Old Harbor, where we enjoyed delicious soups and an equally delicious respite from all that wind and sun.
Erik had the catch of the day (char) and the soup of the day (mushroom).
I ordered shellfish soup and was surprised by a presentation that was both fun and functional. When the waiter served it, he placed the bowl in front of me and all it had in it was seafood, chopped chives, a swirl of chive oil, a sprinkling of sprouts, and a dollop of whipped cream. He then held up a round maroon teapot and with it poured out the creamy soup into my bowl, submerging the mussels, langoustines, and scallops. The seafood kept its texture since it wasn’t sitting in hot soup for any length of time, and the melting cream cooled everything to just the right temperature. I must say the lobster soup here is just amazing; we’ve had it now in multiple restaurants and it’s always been good (though some are better than others, and I particularly liked this one). It’s a creamy soup with a strong flavor of cognac, and the “lobster” in it is actually langoustines.
After all that rich soup I was too full for dessert. We walked sleepily back through town, cutting through Hólavallagarður cemetery to get home. It was a good day and a good way to spend September 11th, a day that still brings to mind that sunny morning years ago when I heard the news that didn’t seem real. An appropriate day for living, and appreciating it.
satsumabug.com | Lisa Hsia 
