VESTURLAND
AKRAR

Accessibility: ★★★☆☆

No real difficulty of accessibility in the literal sense, but you just have to dare to venture in order to find this place. After that, it's mostly a matter of finding the optimal place to tell the best story possible.

Recording: ★★★★☆

Like all recordings near the sea, and especially when it is apparently calm while the waves are unpredictable. Getting away with a completely dry recorder is a feat.

Overall rarity: ★★★★☆

The note is especially noteworthy for the fact that this beach is one of the least visited in the least visited area of Vesturland.

VESTURLAND is both a region that can appear hostile yet beautiful, and like much of Iceland, the aesthetics of the landscape vary greatly with the seasons.

The place called Akrar (as there are others) is therefore located in this region. The road that led me to this place was full of pitfalls and mostly made of random choices. Indeed, not being able to turn back on the first road I had taken, because of works which had completely cut this last one (literally), I found myself having to continue my way in the unknown while hoping to fall again on the road which was going to bring me back to Reykjavik.

After what seemed like an eternity of driving in the dusty gravel, passing only one car going the other way, and on roads punctuated by abandoned farms at almost regular intervals, I finally found myself at a crossroads offering me a ride to "Akrakirkja".

The sound adventures are such that one should never think that one will remember this place and go there another day. You have to seize the opportunity when it presents itself, and my instinct was to go to this village.

When I say village, you have to understand that it is the Icelandic version: 3 houses and a church. No human being on the horizon, but buildings in good condition or, at worst, under renovation, far from the ruins I could meet on my way.

Once again, one leaves as quickly as one entered this kind of village. In the blink of an eye I found myself facing a barrier with what we'll call the centre behind me.

It is thus in a threatening concert of arctic terns that I decided to pass this barrier to go on the beach close by.

It is always something that is impossible to describe completely in words when you are totally alone on a beach. The sun may be shining, but the temperature is still cool. And if it wasn't for the traces of a vehicle in the sand, time would have been totally suspended and I would have found myself in a kind of sensation of having arrived at the end of the world, at the ultimate border.

After exploring for what seemed like an eternity, I finally settled on a basalt formation hit by the waves.

The hardest part was to find a place where the recorder could be close enough to the surf while being protected from the splash. And once again this is not an easy task.

My instinct is to look for the least wet area, which means that the water can only reach a small distance. But, even if this is logical and often the best approach, we must not neglect parameters such as the type of swell, and the sun. The latter can dry out very quickly areas that are lightly, but still, sprinkled. It is therefore a long wait that is necessary to find the optimal location. And even with all the precautions in the world, we are not safe from a wave that decides to venture to the chosen location. Like a mini rogue wave that has taken the time to absorb the energy of others to project itself inland.

But the result is an interesting recording, where some drops seem to come to meet our ears.

I came back exhausted, as if emptied of my vital energy, this area of Vesturland will remain one of my best memories.