So folks, me and the wife finally dragged our butts over to Hamar last Tuesday – that tiny fishing village on Iceland’s northern edge that everyone keeps hyping. Honestly? We almost skipped it entirely cause our rental car GPS kept freaking out near Akureyri. Good thing we didn’t.
First Morning: Fishing Harbor Chaos
Woke up stupid early thanks to jetlag hitting like a truck. Stumbled down to the harbor around 5:30 AM – bam! Smacked right in the face by fishy air and seagulls sounding like angry toddlers. Fishermen were hauling in weird-looking fish that looked straight outta alien movies.
- Drank DISGUSTING coffee from a rusty thermos some guy named Olafur handed us. Felt alive though.
- Tried eating dried fish jerky – tasted like salty cardboard. Kid gave us thumbs up so we pretended to like it.
- Got soaked by a rogue wave while posing for photos near some green buoys. Wet shoes all damn day.
Chasing Those Fancy Bird Cliffs
After drying off with sketchy gas station napkins, we drove towards the bird cliffs everyone raves about. Wind nearly blew our rental Hyundai into the ocean twice. Saw tons of puffins doing clumsy crash landings though – worth almost dying. Pro tip:
- WEAR STURDY SHOES. Seriously. Slipped on loose rocks three times.
- Bring binoculars or regret everything. My phone zoom made puffins look like dust specks.
- Watch your head. Seagull bombed my husband’s jacket with suspicious white gunk. Laughed till I choked.
That Sunset… Holy Crap
Around 11 PM (yup, midnight sun insanity) we parked near lava fields covered in neon green moss. Thought we’d just snap quick pics before passing out. Then the sky exploded into orange and purple streaks over black rocks like someone spilled lava lamp juice everywhere. Stood there shivering in silence for half an hour eating gas station hot dogs. Felt magical even though my fingers went numb.
- DO NOT MISS THIS SPOT. Coordinates roughly 65.6945° N, 17.3645° W. Better than Reykjavík crowds.
- Pack thermal EVERYTHING. Iceland wind laughs at “light jackets”.
- Bring snacks. That gas dog was lukewarm at best but tasted like victory.
Stuff That Kinda Sucked
Look, Hamar ain’t perfect. One restaurant with crazy prices and two-hour wait? Yeah. Roads that feel like driving on broken pottery? Uh huh. But hunting northern lights behind wool sweater stalls at midnight while locals sang off-key Icelandic tunes? Pure stupid joy.
Final verdict: Go feel small near puffins. Eat questionable fish. Get wrecked by nature. Just leave your fancy shoes at home.
