I had a full day to explore Heimaey, with a slight interruption in the middle required, as I was changing accommodation locations. I loved the little cottage, but it was expensive, and I'd decided to try the Glamping & Camping place near the golf course for my second night. The weather wasn't great, with little visibility and some fog in the distance, so I didn't bother getting up early. Instead I had a leisurely breakfast, made myself a packed lunch, packed up and headed out at 11.15am.
My first stop was Stórhöfði, hoping to get a bit more luck with the puffin sightings. I drove there this time and parked first near the puffin lookout (there were a few birds on the mounds of grass, but it's not a great place to get decent photos) and then drove a bit further up to a parking area near the old lighthouse. I set off on foot, heading clockwise around the promontory again. Fog hung over the sea to the east and occasional bright patches lit up the sea. A couple of puffins sat on the grassy cliffs, but most were out to sea, fishing.
As I got to the southern side the islands to the south were just visible in the fog.
It was at that point that I finally found some puffins - there were big clusters of them sitting on various cliffs, although quite far away and difficult to capture. There was a lot of coming and going with the air full of the cute little birds with their squat little bodies and bright beaks.
As I continued on around the coastal path that goes all the way around Stórhöfði I found a few spots where I was able to get a little closer to some birds, which I approached slowly and carefully, thankful to have the telephoto lens to be able to capture them far bigger than I could see them. One bird was quite close, sitting amongst dandelions. As I reviewed the photos I noticed that the bottom of its head and neck were wet, unlike other puffins I'd seen before. It also had bloodshot eyes; maybe not a healthy specimen...
A couple sat in the grass a little further on, watching the birds going about their business. I carried on, and found a few spots with large numbers of puffins, as well as a particularly woolly sheep. I was a little dismayed to see some ladders going down the side of one cliff; presumably for puffin-catching...
I passed a group of people who appeared to be keeping an eye on what was going on with the gannets at the colony on the island opposite.
As I approached the end of the loop I could just see the northern end of the island beneath the fog, where the landscape supposedly looks like an elephant drinking.
As I got back to the car the fog began to lift a little, and I noticed a little derelict hut - another great doer-upper (although apparently this area is one of the windiest in Iceland, which is all pretty windy, so probably not the easiest places to live!).
Leaving the puffins behind me I drove down the hill and parked at the bottom. To the east was a little fairly unappealing beach, but I'd remembered from my trip 11 years earlier that there was some cool geological features past it, so decided to explore, hoping I'd remembered the location correctly. I wasn't wrong; the area was similar to the beach on the other side, with layered platforms and folded rocks, with algae-filled ponds and pools. I walked along the cliff top as far as I could easily go, and saw a couple of puffins on the volcanic rocks, as well as some ducks sitting out on low rocks in the ocean. There were wonderful caves and piles of the striped rock - could've spent hours investigating! The weather had improved with the fog on the island and those nearby lifting, although it still clung to the sea to the east.
I walked back to the car, passing more pools sitting among the swirly rocks.
I headed across the road, deciding to explore the other side, where I'd been the previous day. The light was pretty dreary, with mostly white cloud above, so tricky to get any decent photos, so I decided to focus on some of the details I passed - there were plenty of cute little plants and flowers among the lava and sand, as well as broken purple urchins and their dusty remains.
I passed some of the same wonderfully eroded rock patterns and pools filled with algae and a weird murky green water that I'd seen the previous afternoon (and on the trip 11 years earlier). The skies began to clear a little, but still a layer of white cloud remained.
A few speedy birds darted across the rocks as I wandered, but all were either camouflaged or too quick to get a photo of. There were some female eider ducks - some with ducklings, and a couple of female harlequin ducks too.
It was 3pm by the time I headed back towards the car, and the sun had finally come out properly, although some cloud remained; there were even a couple of kids paddling in the sea - not something you expect to see in Iceland!
I drove long the coastal road on the west side of the island and stopped near where I'd seen the puffins the previous afternoon and evening. There were a couple of puffins on the cliffside again (next to some ordinary pigeons, which surprised me). I watched a fulmar feeding its chick on a little grassy perch.
I arrived at Glamping & Camping at around 3.30pm to check in - my A-frame cabin was the closest one to the main building, where there were kitchens, toilets and bathrooms. My cabin was fairly basic - consisting of two single beds and a bar fridge (which was fine, as it meant I could have cold beer!), but it was pretty cute. The setting was wonderful, as the place is set at the foot of what feels like an old crater, with steep mountains rising up around you. My view out of the cabin when I arrived was amazing - just one tent in front of me, on the opposite side of a track, with the green crater walls in front of me. Here's a couple of shots I took on the iPhone8.
I was in a bit of a quandary about what to do. The woman who checked me in said that the best place to see puffins nearby was at the top of the steep hill directly opposite, at around 8pm, just before sunset. I had a restaurant booking at Slippurinn at 7pm, so this would not work ideally for hiking up there (about half an hour) as well as walking into town and back, and eating. I emailed the restaurant to see if I could change my booking to 6pm. In the meantime I decided to walk to the coast, past the weird statue I remembered from my previous visit, on the far side of the golf course, commemorating the move of Icelanders to Utah to build Zion... Along the way I also got a nice view of the basalt columns along the cliff edges.
I hadn't heard back from the restaurant, so decided to head down there early anyway - surely there would be space at that time of day. It was a nice walk into town, not too far, passing meadows of wildflowers beneath a mountain above - Fiskhellar - on one side of the road, and a couple of football pitches on the other. I remembered that from before - this tiny island is mad about football.
I arrived at the restaurant and of course they had a table for me; I don't think anyone was looking at emails at that time, so who knows if anyone ever read my request to come earlier. It was weird being in a proper restaurant - my first time in four and a half months (the noodle bar back in Reykjavík didn't really count as it was a hole-in-the-wall place with four seats along a bar). This was a proper restaurant, packed with Icelandic families. Life felt normal for the first time in a long time. I ordered a Leifur (one of my favourite Borg Brugghus beers) and a langoustine tail soup - all of it was delicious! I took a few photos on the iPhone8 - didn't want to get the big camera out to take photos at the table.
Feeling suitably stuffed, I paid and headed back towards the cabin, still hoping I'd be able to get up to the top of the mountain just after 8pm - enough time to see puffins and sunset. It had turned into a lovely evening.
I got back to the cabin and got my camera gear together, feeling way too full and a bit tipsy from the beer (it was pretty strong!). As I headed out I whacked my head really hard on the door frame, which I'd already done a couple of times earlier, to lesser extents. This one was really painful and I had to sit down for a couple of minutes to decide whether I was concussed or not! I decided I wasn't, and headed off towards the hill. The campsite now was absolutely rammed - the quite, peaceful remoteness I'd expected was nowhere to be seen.
It was a real slog to get up the hill, given the heaviness of my stomach, pounding head, and buzz from the booze. I made it up to the ridge pretty quickly and was there by 8.10pm. I looked around - not a puffin to be seen. The view, however, was truly spectacular, and made up for the birdlessness. The light had the wonderful goldenness of that time of day, and the hillsides glowed. I could see the mainland to the north, and the little islands off to the north-west. I walked down the path going west for a little way and saw a cute little house down the hillside; who knows how people really accessed these places!
A woman came up the switchbacks a few minutes behind me, but continued up towards a peak, which I didn't feel comfortable doing given my fullness and still-a-bit-tipsiness. The ridge was quite narrow, and a guy I'd passed on my way up who was coming down had mentioned that it was pretty nerve-racking, which didn't help. I took a few more shots from the ridge and then headed down, deciding that I might get to see puffins along the coast again instead. It was great to see the island spread out below me, with the hut I was staying, the red volcanic peaks, the sprawling town, the tiny Ofanleiti cottage in the distance near the brewery, the winding coastal road, Stórhöfði and the islands beyond. I didn't think to take a panoramic shot - next time...
On my descent I saw one puffin - yes, just one - sitting above me on a rocky perch. Other than that I saw two fulmars, who had their eye on me as I passed beneath them.
I reached the bottom and headed back to the cabin, passing a big group of oyster catchers. I remembered the OCs (as I like to call them to myself) from my previous trip - they are everywhere, and very noisy.
It was long enough after the beer to drive, I decided, so jumped in the car and drove the couple of kilometres to the viewing spot near the winding road and walked down the little path to the coast. There was a little bit of light left, but not much, so the ISO was pushed up. As on my previous visits, there were a few puffins dotted around along the cliffs, looking out and around nervously. I'd hoped to photograph some birds backlit by the setting sun, but a thick layer of cloud hung above the horizon, so that wasn't possible. Occasionally the sun would peak through onto the sea, but never reached me. It was pretty lovely, all the same, watching the adorable little birds.
As well as puffins I also saw a couple of fulmars and another golden plover on my way back to the car at just after 10pm when the light was practically gone.
I drove back to the cabin, which now looked out onto dozens of tents and cars (this was basically a campsite, and not the quiet place I'd arrived at!), had a beer, reviewed the day's many photos, and tried to avoid hitting my head on the door when I went out to the loo! I had originally booked a 5.30pm ferry back to the mainland, giving me almost another full day, but had changed it to the 2.30pm one when I got the paper tickets, thinking that would give me enough time to hike up the red volcano - Eldfell - in the morning before heading off. The weather forecast was okay for the following day, but dreadful for the next one, so I decided I'd try to get an even earlier ferry to give me more time on the mainland to explore Gluggafoss that I'd missed, as well as Nauthúsagil (a canyon recommended by my friends), so had to set the alarm pretty early if I wanted to get my hike in.
Click here for my blog from Day 3 - A long Overdue Return to Vestmannaeyjar
Click here for my blog from Day 5 - Red Volcano & Dark Canyon
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