Iceland's Westfjords Way will link the northern and southern parts of the Westfjords and allow the region - and driving route - to be accessible for nine months of the year. Photo / Getty Images
Iceland's Westfjords Way will link the northern and southern parts of the Westfjords and allow the region - and driving route - to be accessible for nine months of the year. Photo / Getty Images
Katja Gaskell is one of the first to explore Iceland's Westfjords Way
"You are lucky today," grinned Jon, the very jolly captain. "This is the last boat of the season". It's only August but already the dark fjord waters look restless. We're standing in the wood-panelled office of West Tourson the docks at Isafjordur, a pocket-sized town in Iceland's Westfjords region. It sits on a small sandspit flanked by steep mountains on three sides and the open waters of Isafjardardjup on the fourth. It was into these waters that we were due to set sail.
Isafjordur marked the almost half-way point on our journey around the Westfjords, a large, mountainous peninsula whose fretted coastline stretches out into the icy waters of the Denmark Strait. It's the oldest corner of Iceland, formed some 16 million years ago, moulded and shaped by glaciers, freezing rain and snow, fierce winds and corrosive ocean waves. The landscape is among the most dramatic in Iceland - and also among the most isolated. The first road linking Isafjordur to the capital Reykjavik was only completed in 1959 and heavy snowfall between November and May means that for large parts of the year the region is cut off.
This is all set to change, however, with the arrival of the Vestfjardaleidin (Vest-fyar-tha-lay-thin), the Westfjords Way, Iceland's newest driving route. This 950km road is being launched this month to coincide with the opening of the Dyrafjardargong tunnel, which will link the northern and southern parts of the Westfjords and allow the region - and driving route - to be accessible for nine months of the year.
While New Zealanders can't visit right now, it's worth planning ahead for post-Covid travel - a new mountain road will be completed in 2023, opening the region up year-round. Given that today only 7 per cent of visitors to the country make it to the Westfjords, it's hoped that the Westfjords Way will attract visitors looking to experience Iceland's road less travelled.
"This is an area that you won't really see on Instagram or read about in a blog. It is the definition of off the beaten path," explains Ryan, our guide.
The drive from Reykjavik to Gilsfjordur, the narrow fjord that separates the Westfjords from the mainland, takes around five hours. Not long after we cross the bridge, the views from the car windows change dramatically. The region's ripe old age means that there are no active volcanoes or steaming lava fields like you will find in other parts of the country.
Instead, the landscape unravels to reveal boundless green pastures and steep, flat-topped mountains. Narrow, serpentine roads, many of them unpaved, wind their way in and around the slate-blue waters of the fjords. We pass the odd red-roofed farm and the occasional vehicle but for the most part, our only company are the piratical Arctic skua that hover
"If you want to avoid the crowds and experience the original Iceland," says Ryan, "then the Westfjords is the place to visit. Even at the height of summer, you might not see another tourist around."
We stop in the small fishing village of Sudavik to visit a museum dedicated to the Arctic fox. It's a short visit but well worth it; this is the only land mammal native to Iceland and 60 per cent of the population live in the Westfjords. We meet and feed the centre's two orphaned fox pups and are back on the road in time to make our sailing from Isafjordur to the island of Vigur.
Measuring just over a mile long and 440 yards wide, Vigur is one of three islands in Isafjardardjup. It was owned until recently by one family, who had occupied the island since 1830. Every year they would collect some 130lb of down from the resident eider ducks and then sell the ghostly grey feathers to Germany and Asia to make cosy - and costly - duvets. When we visited, the island was for sale, the elderly owners ready for a change of pace (and maybe the company of a few neighbours). It's since been bought by another local family who plan to follow in their footsteps.
Iceland's Latrabjarg sea cliffs are home to millions of sea birds in summer, including razorbills, fulmars and puffins. Photo / Getty Images
In addition to the eider ducks, during the summer months Vigur is home to Arctic terns and black guillemot. The stars of the show, however, are the puffins and some 30,000 pairs lay eggs here every summer.
We drive through lunar-looking landscapes where the first Mars rover was put through its paces and stop to take photographs of Gardar BA 64, an old whaling ship that remains grounded upon the sand. We pass salt factories and seaweed baths; steaming thermal pools and endless beaches in red and golden hues.
One day we climb along the rim of a volcanic crater and visit the remnants of Viking settlements nearby. That night we're treated to the dancing slivers of graceful green light of the aurora borealis.
Just when we thought we had seen the best of the Westfjords, however, we arrived at the Latrabjarg sea cliffs, our last stop before returning to Reykjavik. The cliffs rise dramatically from the ocean, soaring up to 1,447ft in places.
In early summer they're home to millions of sea birds including razorbills, fulmars and puffins, that find refuge in the cliffs' crevices. We walk several miles along what feels very much like the edge of the world.
"It's this remoteness that makes the Westfjords so special to me," says Ryan, gazing out across the ocean. "It's as if the clock ticks slower here, and every time you visit, you experience something new."
