Searching for a wildlife-filled spring getaway? Whether you want to admire exotic orchids, listen out for birdsong or spot a blue whale in the wild, Europe has something to offer. James Lowen, author of 52 European Wildlife Weekends, discusses the highlights.Read more...
Hornstrandir - A view from our expert author
The mountainous landscape of Hornstrandir surrounded by lush fields of flowers © Bildagentur Zoonar GmbH, Shutterstock
Hornstrandir is a daunting place for its intense beauty and extreme nature.
The purest part of Strandir is the ‘horn’ – the final peninsula that juts over the top of the West Fjords. It is a daunting place for its intense beauty and extreme nature. The mountains are pyramid-shaped, sharpened by constant ice and wind. The cliffs stand up like defiant walls against the sea, and the intermittent valleys are lush green places of rare plants and flowers. It is a place to enjoy silence – a place where you actually notice the sound of a bird’s wings, the wind, the trickle of a stream or the hum of a very distant boat engine. Other than Iceland’s desert interior, Hornstrandir is the best place to feel completely alone on planet earth.
The Hornstrandir Nature Reserve occupies the northernmost section of the peninsula, with the highest cliffs and some of the most striking terrain in Iceland. The park was established in 1975 and is now the most protected part of the country. All cars (and horses) are banned, fishing and hunting are illegal, you must carry out whatever you bring in, and travel is somewhat regulated. Most of the land in the park here is private property (those who left have kept it in the family), and the plants and animals are protected – you must tread lightly. Thus, Hornstrandir is best for serious hikers who know what they are doing and have a sound plan. This is one place where you must have appropriate gear (especially warm, waterproof clothing, good boots and a strong tent). Hornstrandir is also a little bit colder than the rest of Iceland – you are farther north, there’s a large piece of permanent ice on top of the mountains and you’re getting hit with the brunt of the Arctic wind. Snow lingers in the shadows all year long, bays get closed off by drift ice, and some areas are only accessible for about six weeks of summer, depending on how severe the weather is. All this should not foster discouragement though (on the contrary), but the intense circumstances support a kind of rugged elitism among those who make it out here, because so few actually do. A simpler approach is to go with an organised group tour.