This is part 2 of a convoluted path towards interpreting an old remote labyrinth I sought out and visited in Iceland in June 2021.
My mild fascination with labyrinths was revealed in an Ancient Dan post a few years ago, triggered by my literally stumbling upon a carved representation of one at ancient Knidos in Turkey. A recent trip to Iceland provided a chance to investigate the most remote labyrinth of Europe in a more planned and systematic manner. My circuitous trek to arrive at it was unexpectedly matched by the maze of background info on the site, legends in the region, questions about the form of the labyrinth itself, and—ultimately—how we deal with changes of direction and uncertainties of life.
Preparing for a recent trip to Iceland and looking for weird stuff to see, I chanced upon a photo showing the beached wreck of what appeared to be a World War II era “Higgins boat.” It was at the head of Mjóifjörður, a sparsely populated (11 inhabitants) fjord in remote eastern Iceland. I was determined to visit it.