What a beautiful day for our last touring day in Iceland. And what two nice spots to visit, too.

We arrived with plenty of extra time before the 9:30 AM ferry boat departure to Hrísey. Didn’t want to miss the boat in case it was crowded. We and three others were all that came, as it turned out.

There wasn’t much to do on Hrísey, except admire the scenery and watch the birds, which was our original intent anyway. The church and museum were both closed. So we hiked maybe half a mile to a small pond advertised as a bird viewing spot – over 500 species inhabit Hrísey at various times of the year. We didn’t see them all but enough to make us happy. We ended up sitting on a grassy hill overlooking the pond for an hour or more, enjoying the beautiful day and the birds.

We didn’t know it, but Hrísey has a really great place for fish and chips. We had less than an hour to kill before the 1:00 PM departure. There, a few steps from the wharf, was a nondescript building displaying the single word “Restaurant.”

The lady who greeted us brought the chef/owner out of the kitchen – a young guy – who said he could do some roasted small potatoes for me (No Fries, Please. I’m Not British).

And was it ever good. Fish so fresh it was still squirming. Really nice thin tempura coating. A fresh locally-grown green salad with a great dressing. I rated it “Best fish and chips in Iceland. No kidding” on Trip Advisor.

The lady who saw to our needs told us about a young lady from Singapore, an artist, who came to Hrísey, loved it and keeps coming back. She left last April but promised to return in December.

“December? Isn’t it cold in December?”

“Not as cold as it was when I was a kid,” she answered. “Global warming, I guess.”

She, like other middle aged and older adults we’ve met have OK English, but not as good as the kids who are studying it in school and on the ‘net. I said “thank you” to a couple of young guys this morning. “No problem” was their response. Bet they don’t teach that in school.

Hrísey was a center for herring trade back in the first half of the twentieth century, especially 1930 – 1950. It was a Klondike-style boom town. It attracted people from all over Iceland – men and women – to process the catch. It was a wild time. Then, like that, in 1969 the herring simply didn’t return. Overfishing. The economy and population crashed. There’s some fishing left today, I suppose, but tourism has got to be the big deal.

One funny story about the boom times. “Have you ever been married?” A young lady was asked. “No, but I’ve been to Hrísey Island,” she replied with a blush.

The museum that was closed was a shark museum. Unlike the fermented shark museum we visited earlier, this one focused on shark as a source of oil for illumination. That market has of course gone away and so has shark fishing here.

The story was the same in Siglufjordur, 45 minutes north. At one time it produced 20% of Iceland’s exports of herring products. Then 1969 happened. Boom to bust. We toured a herring museum there where much of the equipment was on display.

I didn’t realize it, but herring was and is processed to produce both salted herring for consumption and also to produce fish meal and oil. Fish oil, like shark oil and whale oil and cod liver oil, was used as a source of illumination and as an industrial lubricant. Today the meal and oil are used as livestock feed and other industrial purposes.

The herring population, now under strict government control to prevent overfishing, has come back and there are 11 herring processing facilities in Iceland but none in Siglufjordur. Tourism is the main economic driver here.

Which brings up a political point Thor made last week. A few large operators have bought up all the fishing licenses, leaving the individual fisherman out in the cold. Not fair.

Tourism in Siglufjordur is made possible by three long tunnels cut through the mountains – maybe 15 Km (9 miles) in total, linking the town to the outside world. One tunnel is a single lane. Northbound cars have cutouts every so often. If there’s an oncoming car, the northbounder is obligated to get out of the way. On our way back southbound, some cutouts had four cars waiting. Scary until you get the hang of it and learn to trust your fellow drivers.

So that’s it. Home tomorrow. As we’re sitting here Saturday evening, we have two choices: A flight from Akureyri to Reykjavik Downtown airport, bus transfer to Keflavik and then a five hour wait for our 5 PM flight to Boston. Or, simply drive the rental car to Keflavik, a 5:15 trip. The weather tomorrow is supposed to be like today – warm and sunny. Why not enjoy another day in Iceland rather than fly and wait in the airport?

We’ll see how the spirit moves us in the morning.