Today I found myself caught in the middle of an icy turf war between two towns on the edge of the world: Ísafjörður and Bolungarvík, two ruggedly charming fishing communities in Iceland’s Westfjords.
Apparently, these two towns have a rivalry hotter than geothermal steam. There’s even a tunnel involved. But I’ll get to that. First—golf and immortality.
Ísafjörður: Golf, Glaciers & the Fountain of Youth
Our tour kicked off in Ísafjörður, where we passed the most pristine executive golf course I’ve ever seen nestled between fjords. It was so green and serene I momentarily forgot I don’t golf. I do, however, drink water, and that came next.
We stopped at Skutulsfjörður, a stunning waterfall known locally as the Fountain of Youth. Legend says the glacier water is so pure and mineral-rich it can shave years off your life—on the inside, at least. I chugged it like I was auditioning for a reverse-aging commercial. I’m not sure if it worked, but I did feel slightly more hydrated and 10% more optimistic about my life.
The Maritime Museum: Brennivín & Bold Choices
Next stop: the local Maritime Museum, where history meets… fermented shark. The museum itself is genuinely fascinating. Every item—from nets to nautical knick-knacks—was donated by the community, which gives it this warm, lived-in authenticity.
Then came the tasting. Oh yes.
We sipped Brennivín (Iceland’s beloved schnapps also known as “Black Death”), gnawed on dried cod like determined seagulls, and finally sampled the infamous hákarl—aka fermented shark.
Now, imagine fish that’s been aged in a Viking’s sock drawer for a few months, then air-dried for fun. That’s hákarl. I made a face. A lot of faces. But I did it. And so should you. Travel isn’t just about pretty waterfalls—sometimes it’s about politely choking down predator meat.
Through the Tunnel of Diplomacy
Then came the highlight: driving through the second busiest tunnel in all of Iceland, the 5.4 km (3.36 miles) Bolungarvík Tunnel, carved between towering cliffs and moody skies. It was built to replace a treacherous coastal road and now connects these two feisty fjord towns safely year-round. Locals say it improved everything from emergency access to tourism.
It also allows for much easier trash-talking between towns.
Bolungarvík: Sharks, Seal Suits & Sweet Revenge
Once in Bolungarvík, we toured their own maritime museum, which—while smaller—was packed with personality and fishy pride. Our guide told us tales of fishermen rowing all the way to Greenland to hunt Greenland sharks. In a rowboat. Across the open sea. With no podcasts.
He showed us a traditional seal skin suit, worn by early fishermen to stay warm and dry while braving the ocean for days. The suits were waterproof, insulating, and looked like something Patagonia and IKEA might collaborate on in a fever dream.
The best part? Our guide was a retired teacher. Local legend says when he taught school, the kids used to tease him. Now, many of those kids work as guides and translators—and he gets his payback by telling hilariously dirty stories in Icelandic that leave the poor guides sweating as they scramble to find PG-rated English versions.
The man is my hero.
Churches, Campsites & Cozy Folk Songs
Next up: a lovely visit to a local church, where a talented singer performed traditional Icelandic folk songs that made me feel like I was in a Nordic lullaby. It was beautiful, haunting, and gave me goosebumps—or maybe that was just the weather.
Then we passed the most gorgeous campsite I’ve ever seen—right by the sea, framed by mountains. Mental note: I’m coming back here with a tent, a sleeping bag, and possibly a very cute Icelandic man who owns hiking boots.
Back to Ísafjörður for the Tie-Breaker Meal
We returned to Ísafjörður where I wrapped up the day with crispy fish and chips and a locally brewed stout at the area’s only brewery. Nothing makes you feel more accomplished than downing shark and hiking through fishing lore only to end your night with a hearty pint and perfect fries.
Verdict: Ísafjörður vs. Bolungarvík
So—who wins the Great Fjord Face-Off?
- Ísafjörður gave me youth-restoring glacier water, fried comfort food, and a waterfall that practically begged for Instagram.
- Bolungarvík gave me shark stories, revenge-fueled storytelling, and a campsite that whispered, “come back when you’re braver.”
In the end, I call it a draw. Both towns are steeped in history, beauty, and that dry, salty Icelandic humor I’m starting to fall in love with.
Let’s be honest: if you’re traveling all the way to the edge of the Arctic Circle, you might as well visit both sides of the tunnel.
Trust me—your taste buds, camera roll, and inner Viking will thank you.
Next stop: even more ice, adventure, and possibly my next awkward encounter with fermented food. Stay tuned.
Felicity Arvizu takes on... 