Icelandic Knitting

Knitting is a strong part of Icelandic culture. It's visible on the street, even on bikes

and on trees!

Cafes sometimes offer a knitting basket with a piece of unfinished knitting in it, in case you feel like knitting a few rows as you enjoy your coffee and peruse the newspaper.

As a knitter, I was happy to join not one, but two knitting groups. The camaraderie, the advice, the trading of patterns, the snacks, what fun! In Rome, a friend and I tried to start such a group, but there, knitting is thought of as an old lady's hobby. Getting my Italian friends to give it a try was near impossible. In the end, I did get one friend to join, and she learned enough to make a hat.

Here in Iceland, handknits are very popular. One sees all sorts of people -- babies and elderly, hipsters and teens, everyone -- wearing handmade Icelandic sweaters. Such a sweater is called a lopapeysa in Icelandic, after Icelandic lopi wool. Peysa means sweater. I decided to knit one of my own.

I chose a pattern called Sjón, published in the pattern book, Lopi 30. It was originally written to fit men, so it had a big, boxy shape. Since I wanted a better-fitting, long cardigan rather than a loose pullover, I made some changes to it.

Icelandic sweaters are usually knit in-the-round, which means using circular knitting needles and making a tube. This one is knit from the bottom up. First I knit the body from the bottom to armpit level. Then I knit both sleeves and joined them to the body. Next was the colorwork, the yoke design from the chest up to the neck.

To make a cardigan, you add a few stitches in each row so that there ends up begin a vertical column the front center, and when you are finished knitting your sweater, you actually cut it open. This process, called steeking, strikes fear in the heart of many a knitter. Here it is as a pullover, and you can see the center column where it will be cut.

I threaded some blue yarn along the column to make it clear where I should cut. Using a sewing machine, I sewed a line of red thread on either side of the blue column to reinforce the sweater and prevent it from falling apart once the cut was made.

Then it was time to put scissors to the carefully knitted garment. Scary.

Next I folded the raw edges under and inserted a zipper. This turned out to be the hardest part of the entire process.

I ended up putting it in, being unhappy with the outcome, seeking advice, taking out one side, and reinserting it. It was frustrating, but now it's finally done.

Front view:

Side view:

Top view:

Back view:

Snæfellsnes

Hi, Readers. We haven't been blogging lately, but it's not because we haven't been doing much. There are lots of fun things to do in Iceland, and we have been quite busy. At some point we plan to post photos of some of our activities over the past several months. For now, let's focus on last month's day trip to the Snæfellsnes peninsula, about 2.5 hours from Reykjavik.

We began on the southern part of the peninsula, and afterward visited the northern part. First stop, the tiny village of Arnarstapi, near the snow-covered Snæfells glacier (Snæfellsjökull). If you are a fan of Jules Verne, you might remember that this was the spot from which The Journey to the Center of the Earth began. Perhaps you are more of a New Age type, in which case you know that Snæfellsjökull is one of the seven major power centers in the world.

In Arnarstapi is a sculpture by Ragnar Kjartansson called Barður Snæfellsás. It represents a half-human, half-ogre who was written about in one of the Icelandic sagas.

There are some beautiful cliffs here, and the sea is an amazing shade of blue that reminds me of the Aegean Sea.

The village church has a scenic view.

Up the road a bit in an area called Lóndrangar, we stopped when we saw a sign that said "dead whale." We didn't see any whale, though. Turns out the sign was there from last year, when a sperm whale beached itself here and died. Anyway, there are some interesting rock pillars there.

Continuing our drive around the peninsula, we planned to have lunch in Hellissandur because the hotel/restaurant there is supposed to be open year-round, unlike most such establishments which close from September through May. Unfortunately, they were not open after all. Good thing we brought sandwiches. We ate them at a pretty beach called Skarðsvík.

As we followed the coast road eastward, we saw Iceland's most photographed mountain, Kirkjufell. Of course we had to take a photo.

Or two.

One of the fjords here on the northern coast of Snæfellsnes, called Kolgrafarfjörður, has been in the news lately due to massive herring die-offs. The authorities still don't know why thousands of herring were belly-up in the fjord. NPR did a story about it. During our visit, the fjörd reeked of dead fish, although the poor creatures were no longer floating in the water. They had been dumped into giant piles on the shore.

We followed that stinky site with another.

Fermented shark, known as hákarl, is a traditional Icelandic food. First it is buried in the ground for 6-12 weeks, and then it is hung up to dry for 4-5 months. One of the leading producers of hákarl is located here in Bjarnarhöfn. They let us look at their drying shed.

Mmm, mmm, don't that look appetizing?

Uh, no. Hey, at least you are not being exposed to the ammmonia stench! Count yourself lucky.

We finished our day trip in Stykkisholmur, where we enjoyed some cake at Sjávarpakkhusið. Alas, no photo of the cake, but here is the harbor, which we could see from our table.