​Puffins, Nostalgia, and a Week Back in Iceland

I just returned from an amazing week back in Iceland. Was it all perfect? No. In fact, my arrival transfer service was less than professional. But those who arranged it addressed the issues that happened, so it did not linger in my mind or take hold of the rest of what was to be. And, actually, it became the opportunity to be a part of the lives of puffins, though there was more to the trip than that.

Last week, I wrote about my arrival and the air of nostalgia I had been looking forward to. The weather in the beginning was not great, but it got better and better, and as the time approached to experience the lives of puffins, I could not have asked for better weather. This is Iceland, and the weather can change at a moment’s notice, but the temperatures throughout my time there were in the high 50s to low 60s Fahrenheit, approximately 14°C to 17°C, so very pleasant compared to the 95 to 100 degrees Fahrenheit, approximately 35°C to 38°C, here in Rome. Yes, I returned yesterday, back to Rome.

I did other things besides seeing the puffins, like attending the Lava Show in Reykjavík, taking the ferry to the island of Viðey, though I was mostly attacked by the gulls protecting their territory, so I only saw the Peace Tower from a distance. I also ventured into an art museum that had a focus on Erró, born Guðmundur Guðmundsson, the famous Icelandic visual artist and painter best known for his vibrant pop art collages combining comic books, advertisements, and political icons. Born in Ólafsvík, Iceland, in 1932, he became a key figure in the Narrative Figuration movement and the European avant-garde while living primarily in Paris, so Rosa would be proud. In fact, it was the first place I went. I also returned to Perlan, which has expanded and now offers some wonderful new exhibits.

In the end, I enjoyed many different restaurants and places I had ventured to before during my time in Iceland, both in the capital and in the Westman Islands. I even caught up with friends of mine, Sven and Petra, as it had been since 2023 since I had last been to Iceland. And yes, the nostalgia was there, but so were the changes. More building going on, more people, and more traffic. Of course, it was the heart of summer, and the midnight sun was out, so sleep was more difficult. Even with all the changes, the cruise ships coming in, the construction going on, and people everywhere, I was definitely back in my happy place.

Have you ever returned to a destination after years away and felt both the nostalgia and the change?

But it only really hit on the 24th, with the only scheduled event being a RIB boat to Lundey, Puffin Island, out of Reykjavík, and the start of seeing my birds in their environment. I had never done this type of experience before, and with my tendency toward seasickness, I wondered how it would go. But it did not happen. Remember, my very first encounter with puffins was way back in 1987, heading out to do some halibut fishing and ending up not doing well. But it was also fate that I saw my first puffin then, and this time around, there were no issues, not on the ferry to Viðey, not on the RIB boat, and not on the ferry from the mainland to the islands.

I was back in their world, and they were all around. Some settled in, but many raced just above the waterline to get fish for the pufflings, the baby puffins. Did you know that each nesting pair of puffins lays one egg each year, and they also mate for life? A few other interesting facts about puffins are that in the wild they live about 25 years, though some live longer. There are three species of puffins: the Horned, the Tufted, and the Atlantic, or Common, puffin, of which there are the largest numbers. They are part of the auk family. They are also the smallest of the three species. People think they are larger, but they are about the size of a pigeon. Also, the largest number of nesting pairs is in Iceland, and more specifically, the Westman Islands, with about 700,000 nesting pairs, which at this time is a healthy population.

After leaving Reykjavík, and this time not driving but hiring a driver-guide, which takes the stress off, we were off to see one of the larger colonies of puffins on the mainland in Dyrhólaey, which is a dramatic coastal headland and peninsula, and we got up close, yet still protected, to see the puffins. While many said an hour was fine, I expressed that my trip had a sole purpose, and that was to see the puffins in their environment. You can’t simply go, take a few pictures, and then move on. I needed time, and about two hours, along with the other humans, was about right. Would you plan a trip around one wildlife experience if it meant seeing it in its natural habitat?

Could I have stayed longer? Sure. But I also had a ferry to catch over to Vestmannaeyjar. We also made our way to Vík for lunch and a stop. The nostalgia of being in the south is that I had driven these roads, seen the waterfalls and the mountains, glaciers and volcanoes, so really, it was nice being there. But this was my time, and the focus was the puffins and their environment, and my opportunity to observe. My driver-guide, Ingvi, was great, and he understood this. It was my time and my focus. This is the sign of a good guide. He also knew that I had been there before and that my focus was to be with the puffins, and other things were nice, but not necessarily important to this adventure, or more of a retreat.

The pièce de résistance was to come the next day. Upon arrival in Heimaey, I made the short walk to my hotel, really the only hotel on the island, and once owned by Magnús Bragason, a man who introduced me, indirectly, to Tóti, the most famous of Icelandic puffins. He used to own the Vestmannaeyjar Hotel, but sold it a few years ago due to health issues. One of his longtime employees, Maria, was still there, and she recognized me. In the end, that day was simply a bit of meandering around the town of 4,700 people. It was 4,400 the last time I was there, before the pandemic, I believe. And except for a few changes and some more expansion, it was the same town. I enjoyed dinner at Tanginn, which has a nice menu, but my favorite is the soup and salad bar, and a beer to boot. Located literally steps away from the ferry terminal at Básaskersbryggja 8, it is widely known as the go-to spot to eat while waiting for a ferry pickup. It offers seaside tables with an unparalleled, direct view of the harbor and the Heimaklettur cliffs.

The 26th was the busy day, and one I had looked forward to. One of the things you need to know is that there is also a major attraction called Sea Life, and they are a charity and rescue center. In this case, their focus is two beluga whales, Little Blue and Little Grey, who were rescued from a Chinese aquarium, I believe, and they also have rescue puffins. But I am not a fan of this institution. Back in the day, there was a little aquarium called Sæheimar, and that is where I had met Tóti. He ruled the roost, and the locals loved him and the other rescues. The folks at Sea Life say they are doing the right thing, but in such a small place it takes away from the place, in my opinion, and I made my donation and moved on after about an hour.

The afternoon was mine, and the reason for being there on the island. What I had mentioned before about puffins is that they come to land about the 15th of April and only stay until the end of August, sometimes early September, and then go out to sea. Their only purpose is to come to land, and they return each year, first the male and then the female, to set up housekeeping and lay one egg, which both parents share the responsibility of incubating and then fishing for sand eels in the waters surrounding the islands, and sometimes having to go upwards of 30 miles, 50 kilometers, each way, to get food for the puffling, while fighting predators on the return and trying to get their catch.

My private guide, Björk, a local and fellow bird enthusiast, arrived about 1:30 p.m., and I had asked for three hours, as there are different viewpoints, and again, simply observing was my goal. Did I take pictures? Of course, when the opportunities made themselves available, and there were many. But I was in their environment, and yes, others were as well, but I had my time to simply feel and observe for the better part of 2 1/2 hours. The island is tiny, and getting around takes about 15 minutes. She was excellent as well, and on both counts, I would recommend my private guides and drivers. In total, I had about seven or eight hours to feel a part of this, and it was worth every moment.

The next day, Ingvi picked me up at the ferry after the crossing and drove me back to the airport hotel, as I had an early start back to Rome yesterday. This experience was one that I needed to balance many aspects of my life, and even on the drive back to the airport, we made some detours on roads I had only infrequently traveled before. There had been, and still has been in more recent years, volcanic activity in the Reykjanes Peninsula, and on the way back I saw what had happened to Grindavík and how much volcanic activity there had been. After so many years since being on the islands, and some three years since being in Iceland, it brought back memories and made many more.

Have you ever had experiences like this in a destination to which you have returned after some time away? If so, I’d love to hear about it. And if Iceland, puffins, or a return to a favorite place is calling your name, I’d be happy to help you think through the journey.