Saturday

Friday

Every summer we go on vacation to the end of the world. It's a 5 hour drive, until the road comes to an end on the beaches in the far west corner of Iceland, also called the Westfjords. My boyfriends grandparents left their house in 1971, the last part of the road being impassible from mid September until June because of snow. During that time they had to to walk to the store across the mountain. Going there is like travelling back in time. Because it's so inaccessible nothing has changed in the houses that are now used as summer houses. There are also a bunch of abandoned houses in a spooky herring factory. A whole village actually where people just walked out and took off with the herring in the midst of the last century. It's a lovely spot the few weeks you can stay there. There is no telephone, no mobile network, no Internet access. The electricity and water comes from the river and the lights are fluctuating as the voltage go up and down. They have the most amazing swimming pool with natural hot water at the beach. It has a box where you put the admission that pays for maintenance and the cleaning lady and it's open 24 hours. Landscape is breathtaking. It's the least populated part of Iceland and the farmers on the other side of the mountain are still trapped in the winter because of those steep roads clinging to the mountains that surrounds the many fjords and supplies are flown in with small planes only if the weather permits.