Circles and Rounds-about Vápnfirðinga saga Country



Iceland's Coat of Arms

Vopnafjörður, in north-east Iceland, is famous on several counts, both medieval and modern. It is home to one of Iceland's four mythical guardian spirits or landvættir, the dragon (the other three are a great bird which resides in Eyjafjörður in the north, a bull based around Breiðafjörður in the west, and a mountain giant who roams around the south-west): all four creatures are pictured on Iceland's coat of arms, and on the obverse of Icelandic coins. In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, Vopnafjörður was the port from which the greatest numbers of Icelanders set sail for America and Canada after the terrible hardships of life in the east at that time became impossible to endure any longer. Most recently -- and at the opposite end of the financial spectrum -- Vopnafjörður, or the rivers in the area and the salmon in those rivers, have attracted figures such as Prince Charles and George Bush as well as numerous other high-profile tourists...



Looking north-east from Hof



The saga that is set around Vopnafjörður, Vápnfirðinga saga ('The saga of the people of Weapon-Fjord') was the last of the eastern sagas on my list to work through. I have written in recent posts about some of the connections -- genealogical, geographical, narrative -- between these eastern sagas and Vápnfirðinga saga is no exception here. One of the two key places in Vápnfirðinga saga, Krossavík, is where Grímr Droplaugarson of Droplaugarsonar saga hid out after murdering Helgi Ásbjarnarson (see post of 29th July). A local man who was born and grew up on the farm at Krossavík came with me for a spin about the countryside in the Embulance and pointed out the places associated with Grímr around Krossavík land, as well as passing on countless other anecdotes attached to local places.

Krossavík
(the land slopes down to the sea to the left of the photo) 

Vápnfirðinga saga is not a very long one and it deals for the most part with the close friendship, and subsequently deadly enmity, between two brothers-in-law: Brodd-Helgi Þorgilsson who lives at Hof, and Geitir Lýtingsson who lives at Krossavík. The rift between the two men comes after a Norwegian merchant is murdered: Brodd-Helgi and Geitir at first divide the Norwegian's possessions between them, but the goods are later taken from Brodd-Helgi and Geitir by another man who delivers the possessions to the dead Norwegian's family. It is unclear what becomes of two precious things (a gold arm-ring and a casket), however, and the friendship between Brodd-Helgi and Geitir is poisoned by mutual suspicion. Tension is compounded when Brodd-Helgi abandons his terminally-ill wife (Geitir's sister) and announces his betrothal to another woman. The two men take different sides in various local disputes and eventually, one thing leads to another, and Geitir kills Brodd-Helgi. The feud is passed down to the next generation and Brodd-Helgi's son Bjarni then kills Geitir (who was his foster-father) in order to avenge his father's death...then Geitir's son Þorkell tries to kill Bjarni in order to avenge his father´s death...

Hof (the white building to the right of the frame),
from Guðmundarstaðir, looking south-west across the valley

At a battle that takes place on a peninsula along the coast to the south of Vopnafjörður, both Bjarni and Þorkell sustain wounds -- but the battle is halted after women run out from a nearby farm and throw cloths over the weapons men are wielding. Bjarni offers a settlement package to Þorkell which he accepts, and so the saga ends, at least, with reconciliation...

I had the pleasure of being shown around other saga-sites in Vápnfirðinga saga by another local, Cathy -- who (together with her husband Sverrir) came to my rescue after somewhat alarmingly, the Embulance brakes seized up from chronic over-heating as I was descending the infamously steep and long Hellisheiði mountain pass into Vopnafjörður. A terrible smell of burning brakes culminated in a rather dramatic handbrake stop amidst clouds of dust...but all ended happily, thankfully, and the Embulance and I lived to tell the tale and continue to travel. It was an amazing road -- I took no pictures en route as all my energy was focused on staying on the road and negotiating the countless hairpin-bends -- I´d love to drive it again some time...but perhaps in a slightly lighter and more easily manouverable vehicle! Cathy is remarkable for many reasons, one of them being her history: her grandparents were amongst the many 'Western' Icelanders who emigrated from Vopnafjörður to the United States, which is where Cathy was born and lived...until she visited Iceland in order to explore her family past, and moved back east for good. A story of emigration come full circle...   

Surprised sheep at the abandoned Guðmundarstaðir,
another farm in Vápnafirðinga saga

Cathy is part of a local group which came together over the winter and, as part of a course on local tourism, read Vápnfirðinga saga and put together a very informative brochure about the saga. The brochure can be picked up in the tourist information and cultural centre (housed in an old merchant warehouse building called Kaupvangur) in Vopnafjörður, and it includes a map on which all of the farms mentioned in the saga are marked. Interestingly, it seems that the formation of this group has ignited a spark of local interest in the saga which wasn´t widely present before. On asking various people, it seemed that knowledge of, and interest in the saga hasn´t particularly been a part of life in Vopnafjörður for past generations... Now though, the saga is taught in the local school, and various Vápnafirðinga saga-related projects and activities are afoot. I spent a delightful hour leafing through a pile of pictures produced by school-children illustrating scenes and characters from the saga: one of my favourites was a brightly-coloured picture of a local farmhouse -- a farm which features in the saga, and on which the grandparents of the artist live today. The next post -- on Reykdæla saga ok Víga-Skútu -- will be something of an antidote to the all-too-often romantic temptations of seeing continuity between past and present in Iceland as far as the sagas and the places in them are concerned...but I left Vopnafjörður musing on how this saga, at least, seems to be one that has come full circle too, as far as its place in local consciousness is concerned.   



Cairns on Sandvíkurheiði, on the way north from Vopnafjörður



Komin til íslands...



Tórshavn, on departure

...And what an arrival! The adventures have truly begun. The boat from the Faroes (I was one of three passengers...) came into Seyðisfjörður in the east of Iceland yesterday morning on the stroke of 10am. The weather was perfect and the stretch from the open sea into the fjord breathtaking. Snow-covered slopes of the mountains, rising up either side of the water and broken by horizontal stripes of black rock; the morning sun coming up behind us over a pastel-tinted horizon; the brighter lights of the town of Seyðisfjörður drawing us in. 



Seyðisfjörður, upon arrival



With customs cleared, the first driving challenge  was to get over Fjarðarheiði, the heath or moor between Seyðisfjörður and Egilsstaðir. The climb up from Seyðisfjörður is fairly steep and -- this time of year -- icy, though in conjunction with the arrival of the boat, sand had been spread over the initial stretch. What a feeling driving up, up, and away, with the impossibly beautiful and stern winter landscape stretching for as far as could be seen in all directions!

Seyðisfjörður to Egilsstaðir

From Egilsstaðir I continued north along the ring road up to Mývatnssveit. It was tempting to set off without delay on the trail of two eastern sagas, Hrafnkels saga and Vápnfirðinga saga. The plan, however, is to spend a few weeks in the north at Fellshlíð, a farm in Eyjafjarðarsveit, while I read and work out what is feasible..and what foolhardy...for now. And so I drove on to Mývatn, arriving there as darkness drew in; and drove on to Akureyri this morning after a very comfortable night in the Embulance. Again, clear and calm weather, breathtaking views of mountains and moors, and stretches of road that were pure icerink. But all was well...until I reached the home straight, with over 500 miles covered from Cambridge. Driving south with Eyjafjörður on my right and Akureyri directly across the fjord, a change of gear to accommodate a hill resulted in a horrible crunch...and pulling over to the side of the road, it was clear that I wasn´t going any further on my own.

Seyðisfjörður to Egilsstaðir

Much as my time at the garage taught me before my departure, dealing with the inner workings of the gear box on my second day in Iceland is a little beyond my competence. Horror at first. And a fleeting thought that perhaps I would be better on a horse... But help was at hand. Friends came from the farm with a pickup and the Embulance and I were towed first to a garage in town for an informal professional opinion, and then down south to a neighbouring farm. It seems that the coupling in the gearbox has gone...so, to general amusement, I haven´t exactly arrived at my first destination quite as I intended. But repairs should be possible, and I will learn from the experience...and I´m not lacking in sagas or other material to read in the meantime.