This Saturday: Free Pier Party brings indie rock, line dancing and country-rock to Fisherman’s Wharf
Anthony Arya, Line Dancing Lisa and DJ Shivers, and Ariel Jean Headline August 8 Waterfront Celebration
Free Series Continues Through September, Including Two Pier Party at Sunset Celebrations
5 August 2026 – San Francisco, CA: Ralph Waldo Emerson offered a perfect prescription for summer: “Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air.” This Saturday, August 8, Fisherman’s Wharf invites Bay Area residents and visitors to enjoy the sunshine, Bay air and a free afternoon of live music, dancing and waterfront fun at Pier Party.
Taking place from 2pm to 6pm at Crab Wheel Plaza, the free celebration will feature San Francisco indie folk-rock artist Anthony Arya, an interactive line-dance lesson led by Line Dancing Lisa and DJ Shivers, and country-rock headliner Ariel Jean. The Pier Party bar will serve ready-to-drink premium craft cocktails, with bistro-style seating, dancing and dozens of nearby restaurants, retailers and attractions to explore.
“Pier Party is about giving San Franciscans and visitors a free, welcoming reason to come together, dance and enjoy one of the city’s great waterfront neighborhoods,” said Bri Maughan, Executive Director of the Fisherman’s Wharf Community Benefit District. “This Saturday’s lineup brings together homegrown talent, interactive fun and music that will appeal across generations. We invite everyone to bring family and friends, support our local businesses and make an afternoon of it at Fisherman’s Wharf.”
Anthony Arya opens the afternoon from 2pm to 3:30pm with his signature blend of folk storytelling and contemporary indie rock. Arya first gained national attention with appearances on NBC’s The Voice before graduating from high school and has since released four acclaimed albums, become one of Northern California’s most active touring artists and attracted more than one million Instagram views for songs planned for his fifth album.
Line Dancing Lisa and DJ Shivers will keep the party moving with an interactive lesson designed to get both beginners and experienced dancers on their feet before Ariel Jean takes the stage from 4:30pm to 6pm.
A singer, songwriter, guitarist, composer and Nashville recording artist, Ariel Jean is known for high-energy performances and original country-rock songs. The band has opened for national acts including Sam Hunt, Tim McGraw, Little Big Town, Kip Moore, Tyler Rich and Bryan Martin, and has appeared at Country in the Park, Country Summer Festival and Sacramento’s GoldenSky Festival.
The August 8 event is part of the fourth season of Pier Party, presented by the Fisherman’s Wharf Community Benefit District every second and fourth Saturday through September. Second-Saturday events offer afternoon live music, a Pier Party bar, bistro-style seating and dancing at Crab Wheel Plaza. Fourth Saturdays become Pier Party at Sunset, transforming the Triangle Lot on Taylor Street into a golden-hour gathering place with interactive activations, additional room for dancing and live music through sunset. Both formats are free and open to the public. For all events, ample parking facilities are available within the district, but locals are encouraged to use public transit when possible.
UPCOMING 2026 PIER PARTIES
Saturday, August 8 – Pier Party – 2pm to 6pm
Crab Wheel Plaza 2pm-3:30pm: Anthony Arya Interactive line-dance lesson: Line Dancing Lisa and DJ Shivers 4:30pm-6pm: Ariel Jean
Saturday, August 22 – Pier Party at Sunset – 5pm to 9pm
Triangle Lot on Taylor Street 5pm-6:30pm: Chuy Gomez Bachata and Salsa sunset intermission 7:30pm-9pm: Bayonics
Saturday, September 12 – Pier Party – 2pm to 6pm
Crab Wheel Plaza 2pm-3:30pm: DJ JP Breganza KPOP-Up interactive dance segment 4:30pm-6pm: Magic Nostalgia
Saturday, September 26 – Pier Party at Sunset – 5pm to 9pm
Triangle Lot on Taylor Street 5pm-6:30pm: DJ D Sharp Special performance: TURFinc
EVENT DETAILS
What: Pier Party
When: Saturday, August 8, 2026, 2pm-6pm
Where: Crab Wheel Plaza, Fisherman’s Wharf, San Francisco
Admission: Free and open to the public
Featuring: Anthony Arya, Line Dancing Lisa and DJ Shivers, and Ariel Jean, plus dancing, craft cocktails, nearby restaurants and retailers, and views of San Francisco Bay
Follow @pierpartysf on Instagram for entertainment and event updates.
For more information and to RSVP, visit pierpartysf.com or fishermanswharf.org.
About the Fisherman’s Wharf Community Benefit District:
Established in 2005, the Fisherman’s Wharf Community Benefit District is a nonprofit public benefit corporation dedicated to promoting, advancing and maintaining Fisherman’s Wharf as a world-class waterfront destination. The FWCBD works to enhance public spaces, support local businesses, improve the visitor experience and celebrate the history, culture and vitality of San Francisco’s most visited neighborhood.
About Fisherman’s Wharf:
Fisherman’s Wharf is one of San Francisco’s most iconic and beloved destinations, known for its historic fishing fleet, seafood restaurants, waterfront views, PIER 39 sea lions, family attractions, maritime heritage and enduring role as a gathering place for locals and visitors from around the world.
Grundarfjörður: Hikes, Waterfalls and Ship Spotting David Eugene Perry
4 August 2026: Ahoy! We set off by tender from Nieuw Statendam to explore Grundarfjörður, Iceland. We dock next the classic, smaller cruise ship Deutschland: more about her at the end of this report, including her “TV fame” and its connection to my earlier life at sea.
At the harbour, signage explains the importance of fishing and maritime trade to the town:
The Grundarfjörður Harbour
“The harbour is one of the main lifelines of the town. The good natural harbour facilities indicated that the village would be built in this area. The development of the harbour, employment and habitation have been growing hand in hand since the beginning of the 20th century.
A good harbour is a prerequisite for utilizing the rich fishing grounds and creating growth opportunities for the fishing industry. Fisheries have been built up here, over the years, with much power and foresight. Technological advances in the fishing industry can best be seen in the fact that far fewer people are needed today for fishing and processing in order to produce much more seafood products.
In former times, the harbour played an important role in the transportation of goods to and from the town. All seafood was either frozen or salted on ships, which then delivered these products to various markets overseas. Today, almost all goods are transported by truck and a large portion of the seafood is flown fresh to overseas markets.
There are various services offered by the harbour for the fishing industry. There are also many cruise ships that come to Grundarfjörður because of its excellent natural harbour and facilities.”
Two illustrated panels identify the birds and marine animals found around Grundarfjörður. The bird panel reads:
Fuglar við Grundarfjörð Birds around Grundarfjordur
Inside a nearby visitor facility, display cases contain preserved examples of many of the birds found in the area, including puffins, ducks, gulls, owls, birds of prey and other seabirds. The collection also includes an Arctic fox and cases of eggs and stones, displayed above locally produced knitwear.
It’s a misty, pleasant chilly day as we set out on a hike to the big waterfall at edge of town, just past the “Harry Potter” wizard hat shaped mountain Kirkjufell. All along the way, we pass white, blue and yellow wildflowers: yarrow, harebells and buttercups. A small group of sheep ignore us completely. About an hour later, we’re treated to a spectacular cascade emptying into a lagoon before then meandering to the sea. On the way back we stop for an Einstök Icelandic Pale Ale (Alfredo) and s Viking Draught with a side of blueberry cake (me, and Alfredo helped with the cake).
The waterfall is Grundarfoss, a roughly 70-metre—or 230-foot—fall fed by the Grundará river. The approach follows the river inland from the road outside Grundarfjörður.
We make our way back to the pier by way of the church, and two monuments adjacent: one a statue, one a name emblazoned rainbow ribbon bench.
The statue is Sýn, created by Icelandic sculptor Steinunn Þórarinsdóttir and installed in honour of the lives and work of fishermen. Its female figure represents a fisherman’s wife standing on shore, looking out to sea and waiting for her loved ones to return. The adjacent steel element reproduces the form of Kirkjufell and is intended to represent the sea. The work was unveiled on Fishermen’s Day in 1989 by Vigdís Finnbogadóttir, then president of Iceland.
The second work is Veðurhorfur — Weather prediction — Météo, by Sólrún Halldórsdóttir. Its plaque reads:
“Veðurhorfur Weather prediction Météo
Sólrún Halldórsdóttir
Til heiðurs þeim sem á undan gengu Eliza Reid, forsetafrú afhjúpaði 4. júní 2021”
The 18-metre-long work incorporates 112 Icelandic words for wind and variations in the weather, a number chosen in reference to Iceland’s 112 emergency telephone number. The words are arranged according to wind speed, with their changing background colours based partly on the weather codes used by the Icelandic Meteorological Office. The installation is made from stone, steel and hardwood and was unveiled on June 4, 2021, by Iceland’s then first lady Eliza Reid and two-year-old Elísa Gunnarsdóttir.
Just around the bend, lined with neatly trimmed lawns and sleekly efficient designed homes we spy my prize: a view of the M/S Deutschland — well part of the time. From September through April she changes her name to the World Odyssey as part of the “Semester at Sea” program. Also, she’s had a starring role in a popular German TV show.
Built by Howaldtswerke-Deutsche Werft in Kiel, Germany, Deutschland was launched and entered service in 1998. Designed as a smaller, traditionally styled cruise ship, she measures just over 175 metres in length and has seven passenger-accessible decks. She served as an entertainment ship during the 2000 Olympic Games in Sydney and as a hospitality ship for the German Olympic Committee during the 2012 London Games.
After her original operator, Peter Deilmann Reederei, encountered financial difficulties, the ship was sold in 2015. Since then, she has alternated between two roles and two names. During the northern summer she operates for Phoenix Reisen as Deutschland. From September through April she becomes World Odyssey, the sixth vessel used by Semester at Sea. In that role, she operates as a floating university with approximately 600 berths, nine classrooms, a student union and a library.
From 1999 until 2015, Deutschland was the principal filming location for the long-running ZDF television series “Das Traumschiff” — “The Dream Ship.” The German drama follows the passengers and crew of a cruise ship travelling to destinations around the world and is often compared with the American series “The Love Boat.”
Since 2015, “Das Traumschiff” has continued for a whole new generation of fans, but now being filmed onboard a ship with whom I have a direct connection. Now known as the MS Amadea, the ship started life as the Asuka built by NYK – the company which birthed Crystal Cruises. My very first ship was the Crystal Harmony.After Asuka was sold to the German company Phoenix Reisen (which operates Amadea and Deutschland) Crystal Cruises turned the Harmony over to the Japanese market as Asuka II under which name she still sails. Crystal Cruise veterans always referred to the original Asuka as the “Baby Harmony” so the lineage continues. To me, “ship spotting” is the true ocean cruise sport: even more fun than bingo or trivia.
Ísafjörður, Iceland: History, Hiking and Accordions
By David Eugene Perry
Ahoy! Today we explored Ísafjörður, Iceland: a day full of hiking, history, hitherto unseen vistas and even a collection of accordions. Some days on a journey are so unexpectedly rich that, by evening, they seem as though they contained three or four days’ worth of experiences. Today was one of those. We awoke in Ísafjörður—the unofficial capital of Iceland’s spectacular Westfjords—to brilliant sunshine illuminating one of the most dramatic natural harbors in the North Atlantic. Mountains rose nearly straight from the sea, their ancient basalt faces etched by countless glacial ages, while fishing vessels gently rocked below beneath a sky that somehow managed to be both brilliantly blue and adorned with soft Arctic clouds.
Before we tackled the day’s great adventure, we wandered the charming streets of town, where old timber houses painted black with crisp white trim have stood for centuries against the unforgiving North Atlantic weather. Unlike much of Iceland, which lost many of its oldest wooden structures, Ísafjörður still preserves a remarkable collection of merchant buildings dating back to the eighteenth century, reminders of the era when Danish merchants controlled Icelandic commerce.
One of our first delightful discoveries was a brightly painted rainbow crosswalk and, nearby on a house, a vibrant mural proclaiming “Love is Love.” It was a joyful splash of color against the traditional architecture—a reminder that while this town reveres its history, it also embraces a welcoming and inclusive present. In a place where nature often dominates the conversation, this simple expression of humanity felt especially touching.
Then came the hike. Our destination was Naustahvilft, better known as “The Troll’s Seat.” Every local seems to know the legend. According to Icelandic folklore, a giant troll, hurrying home before sunrise could turn her to stone, stopped here to rest. The enormous bowl-shaped depression carved into the mountainside is said to be the imprint left where she sat, her feet dangling into the fjord below. Geologists, of course, attribute it to glacial erosion during the last Ice Age, but standing there above Ísafjörður, it was easy to prefer the troll’s version.
The trail climbed relentlessly above town, every switchback revealing another breathtaking perspective over the fjord. Soon the colorful roofs of Ísafjörður shrank below us while the surrounding mountains unfolded in every direction. The silence was profound, interrupted only by seabirds riding the updrafts and the distant sounds of fishing boats returning to harbor.
The higher we climbed, the more astonishing the views became. Looking down, the entire town seemed to rest delicately on a narrow spit of land extending into the deep blue waters. Snow still lingered in shaded gullies high above despite the warmth of the summer sun, while waterfalls traced silver ribbons down impossibly steep cliffs. It was one of those hikes where photographs barely hint at the grandeur. Every turn invited another pause simply to absorb the immensity of Iceland’s western frontier.
The climb proved pleasantly challenging—just enough to make us earn every spectacular vista. Apart from one brief slip that bruised nothing more than my pride, we returned to town tired, exhilarated and entirely intact. The celebratory beer awaiting us would prove richly deserved.
Returning happily exhausted to town, we refreshed ourselves with a beer at the LOGN Hotel and Bar, and then wandered over to one of the most fascinating museums we’ve encountered anywhere—in Iceland or anywhere.
Housed in one of the oldest surviving merchant buildings, originally constructed in 1765, the museum itself tells a story before you even step inside. Known as the Factor’s House (Faktorshús), it served as the residence of the Danish trading representative who oversaw commerce in the region. The building has been lovingly restored, allowing visitors to step directly into eighteenth- and nineteenth-century life.
Outside, another chapter of history quietly announces itself. Mounted on the building is a plaque commemorating its origins as the home of the Danish merchant factor during the era of the Danish trade monopoly. Just steps away stands the Honorary Consulate of the Kingdom of Denmark, a subtle reminder that Denmark’s connection with Iceland did not simply disappear when Iceland became a sovereign kingdom in 1918 or a republic in 1944. For centuries, Danish merchants, governors and trading agents administered commerce from buildings like this one. Today, the modern honorary consulate sits almost beside the former merchant’s residence, linking Iceland’s colonial past with its enduring friendship with Denmark.
Before entering the museum, we paused at a striking granite memorial topped by a bronze seabird. Its plaque commemorates the sailors of Arctic Convoy QP-13, who perished off Iceland’s coast on July 5, 1942. During World War II, these tranquil waters became one of the world’s most dangerous shipping lanes. The Arctic convoys carried desperately needed food, fuel, aircraft, tanks and munitions from Britain and North America to the Soviet Union through waters patrolled relentlessly by German U-boats, aircraft and surface raiders. Yet the enemy was not their only danger. In thick fog, while maneuvering to avoid submarine attack, ships of QP-13 inadvertently entered a British defensive minefield laid off Iceland’s northwest coast. Three merchant vessels were lost, scores of Allied sailors perished in the frigid North Atlantic, and the waters surrounding the Westfjords became another tragic battlefield in the Battle of the Atlantic. Standing there before the memorial, with the peaceful harbor sparkling behind it, it was difficult to imagine the terror and sacrifice that unfolded here only eighty-four years ago.
The memorial also serves as a poignant reminder that although Iceland declared neutrality, geography made neutrality impossible. Following Britain’s occupation of Iceland in May 1940—Operation Fork—Ísafjörður was transformed from a remote fishing community into an important Allied naval and aviation outpost. Flying boats patrolled the surrounding seas searching for German submarines, escort vessels sheltered in the fjord, and military personnel suddenly became a common sight in streets that had previously belonged almost exclusively to fishermen, merchants and their families.
Inside, history unfolds room by room. A beautifully recreated kitchen, complete with period stove, pantry, dining table, enamelware and vintage Bosch refrigerator, evokes the daily rhythms of Icelandic family life during the twentieth century. Looking out its small windows, one sees the harbor exactly as generations before would have seen it: fishing boats, mountains and the ever-present sea.
Elsewhere, exhibits chronicle the evolution of Iceland’s fishing industry—the foundation upon which towns like Ísafjörður were built. Detailed engineering drawings illustrate the transition from traditional sailing vessels to powered fishing boats. Charts identify dozens of species harvested from Icelandic waters, from cod and haddock to halibut, wolffish, redfish, Greenland shark, rays and even eel. Fishing wasn’t merely an occupation here; it was survival, prosperity and identity.
One exhibit proved unexpectedly quirky and delightful. The museum houses the remarkable Ásgeir S. Sigurðsson Accordion Collection, assembled over decades by one man whose passion became one of Iceland’s finest collections of the instrument. His first accordion arrived when he was just fifteen years old, and by 1990 he had begun systematically collecting examples from across Iceland and Europe.
Among the dozens on display are exquisitely crafted nineteenth-century instruments, early German and Italian accordions, elaborately decorated models and examples once played by celebrated Icelandic musicians. The accompanying exhibit traces the accordion’s ancestry all the way back to the Chinese sheng, dating roughly to 2700 BC. In 1822, German instrument maker Friedrich Buschmann developed the handoline, followed in 1829 by Austrian Cyril Demian, who refined the design and gave the world the instrument we still call the accordion today. Production flourished in Germany, especially with Matthias Hohner, and later in Castelfidardo, Italy, now affectionately known as the “Mecca of the accordion.” Who knew that one of the world’s finest accordion collections awaited us in a tiny fishing town tucked beneath Arctic mountains?
Another exhibit told a far more sobering story.
Mounted prominently on the wall hangs the original shield of the British Vice Consulate. During Britain’s wartime occupation, all Germans living in Iceland were ordered to surrender to the occupation authorities. One of them, August Lehrmann, instead fled westward into the Westfjords, where sympathetic local residents secretly hid him for nearly a year. Eventually captured in 1941, Lehrmann revealed the identities of everyone who had helped him.
The consequences rippled through this small community. Seven residents of the Westfjords were arrested and transported to Britain. Among them was Tryggvi Jóakimsson, Britain’s own Vice Consul in Ísafjörður. Although he steadfastly maintained his innocence—and historians have found no evidence that he even knew Lehrmann was hiding nearby—he nevertheless lost both his appointment and his reputation. The British removed the consular shield from his residence and carried it away to the Embassy in Reykjavík.
Remarkably, that very shield survived. Preserved by the British Embassy for decades before passing into private hands, it was donated back to the museum in 2024, where it now quietly bears witness to one of the most fascinating—and least-known—episodes of Iceland’s wartime history. Standing only a few yards from the modern Danish Honorary Consulate, it struck me that within the space of a hundred feet one can trace Iceland’s remarkable diplomatic evolution: from Danish colonial administration, to British wartime occupation, to the independent Iceland we know today.
Standing at an upstairs window, we looked back over the harbor through small wooden casements just as merchants, consuls and sailors had done for more than two centuries. Beyond lay fishing boats, colorful kayaks, distant mountains and calm Arctic water sparkling beneath the afternoon sun.
Today’s visit had it all for the “history lover” in me: a British and a Danish consulate; World War II intrigue; the Battle of the Atlantic; Arctic convoy tragedy; the evolution of one of Europe’s most beloved musical instruments; and the enduring power of the sea.
As we left, I bought a book entitled Iceland Invaded: The Allied Occupation in World War II. I have my reading for the night.Small towns like this, and lovingly, locally curated museums such as this one, tell a far richer story than any Wikipedia page can attempt.
Today on the anniversary of his birth, we celebrate the life and legacy of Rainbow Honor Walk honoree James Baldwin (August 2, 1924 – December 1, 1987).
Born in Harlem, New York, James Baldwin was one of the twentieth century’s greatest writers and public intellectuals. Through landmark works including Go Tell It on the Mountain, Giovanni’s Room, Notes of a Native Son, and The Fire Next Time, Baldwin explored race, identity, sexuality, faith, and the American experience with extraordinary honesty and eloquence.
As a Black gay man, Baldwin challenged prejudice in all its forms, becoming an enduring voice for civil rights, LGBTQ+ equality, and social justice. His words continue to inspire readers around the world to confront injustice with courage, compassion, and truth.
Read Bill Lipsky’s tribute in SF Bay Times at the link below
Ahoy! We dock in Akureyri, Iceland’s second largest city. It’s a gorgeous, clear and pleasantly chilly day.
Our walk begins along the waterfront in Oddeyri, Akureyri’s second-oldest district. Today it feels quiet and orderly, but the historical signs tell a livelier story: merchants challenging Danish trading monopolies, bakers helping organize workers, buildings repeatedly surviving fires, and a shoreline gradually transformed into streets, homes and piers. The old photographs make it easy to imagine the neighborhood when boats landed almost at the front doors and much of the lower ground was still vulnerable to tides and flooding.
Signage along the way says:
Oddeyri District
Oddeyri is Akureyri’s second oldest district. The site was only used for parliamentary meetings from early 14th century until 1551 when two warships arrived to quell a rising led by the Roman Catholic bishop, Jón Arason, of Hólar, who had, however, been executed the year before. No battle ensued, but his possessions were confiscated and given to the king and his heirs.
In 1874 the 1000 year anniversary of the settlement of Iceland was celebrated on Oddeyri. Nothing was built there due to lack of drinking water and flooding risks from Glerá River. However, in 1866, the Danish authorities agreed to include Oddeyri in the township of Akureyri.
The first house, Lundur, was built in 1858. A similar house of the same name stands at Eiðsvallagata 14. After 1870 building began in earnest with the establishment of Gránufélag, Akureyri’s first commercial company.
Around 1900 Akureyri had 10 streets, 5 of which were on Oddeyri: Strandgata, Glerárgata, Lundargata, Norðurgata and Grundargata.
A second sign explains the commercial struggle that helped shape the district:
Fight against Monopoly
There was little incentive to build on Oddeyri — no work and far from the centre of Akureyri. No roads were built until around 1892, so communications were difficult in inclement weather. However, in 1869, the coming of the Icelandic commercial enterprise, Gránufélag, saw Oddeyri’s inclusion into Akureyri township. The company’s boat, Grána, transported goods to and from Iceland.
Two years later the company set up a store in the building Lundur, sparking fierce competition with Danish tradesmen who had held a monopoly over Akureyri’s commercial business. But Gránufélag did not require all their land and sold off small pieces to the townspeople. Some for pasture, others for house building.
By the shore were landing places for shark fishers, and later herring boats. Piers sprang up and, on higher ground, vessels were built. From the early 20th century and up to WWII refuse was disposed of below and to the north of Gránufélag’s premises. Ash and other waste was thrown into a very large tidal pool, long gone to make way for streets and houses.
The next sign turns from merchants to bakers and labor organizers:
Bakers & Union Builders
In 1900 only 10 street names were registered for the whole town, but in 1904, when Oddeyri street names were added, the overall number increased significantly. Hríseyjargata was on the map although it only had one building and much of the proposed road was under the tidal pool. Sea water is still a problem and pumps are needed in many cellars of Lower Oddeyri properties.
The crossroads at Hríseyjargata and Strandgata became “Baker’s Corner” when Strandgata 41 was built in 1901 specially to house a bakery. The baker, Olgeir Júlíusson, was one of the first to establish a workers’ union in Akureyri and his son, Einar Olgeirsson, born 1902, became a union leader and member of Parliament.
Strandgata 39, Karlshús, is well known for surviving in spite of going on fire six times. There was also a bakery in the four-storey building next door, Strandgata 37, the only house built according to the town plan of 1927.
Another nearby sign describes Oddeyri as a center of commerce, entertainment and wartime activity:
Hub of Activity
In 1900, Grundargata was a mere track. At its corner stood Hotel Oddeyri, seen to the left. On the founder’s death in 1898 his widow took over, expanding the business by 50%. The hotel was destroyed by fire in 1908 and she moved the business to Strandgata 1.
The site stood vacant until 1924, when a furniture maker constructed a new building, with a workshop behind it. Later, the workshop was taken over by the TV company Samver, which in 2003 became part of the town television network.
Below the crossroads, in Havsteenshús, Strandgata 35, lived Jakob V. Havsteen, known as “The King of Oddeyri,” who was a harpoon gunner and merchant. Here, behind the house, sheep were brought for slaughter.
In 1922 the first state liquor store in Akureyri was opened in the cellar. During WWII the house was let to British troops and was known as “The Norwegian House,” as it was mostly used as a leisure centre for Norwegian soldiers. Since the war, the building has been used as residential housing.
One tiny memorial stops us in our tracks. It reads, “Here rests BSO — Akureyri’s cultural mouse, 1956–2026.” Icelandic humor apparently extends even to gravestones for beloved local mascots.
We continue into the center of town and Ráðhústorg, the main square. This was once Akureyri’s great gathering place: the spot for shops, cinemas, buses, celebrations, political meetings and, naturally, the latest gossip.
The signage here says:
Main Square
You are standing in Ráðhústorg Square where the heart of the town beats. Although the town hall was not built here — its intended site was taken over by the National Bank — the square was always bustling with life and activity, being surrounded by financial institutions, shops, cinemas and taxi stations.
Here you bought papers, magazines and hot dogs from street vendors and filled your car with petrol. This is where mass meetings assembled and sports events were arranged. Here the terminal for the Reykjavík bus used to be, where people came to meet friends and relatives arriving from the capital — or pick up the latest gossip.
It was in Ráðhústorg that people rejoiced in the establishment of the Republic of Iceland, 17 June 1944 — still the date on which students from the local college celebrate their graduation by marching through the square.
Akureyri has a wonderfully playful streak. Brightly colored shoes hang from wires outside an old building, while a pointed red roof rises behind them. Farther downhill, the compact blue-and-white expedition ship Ocean Victory fills the end of the street. Its unusual inverted bow gives it the look of a vessel designed for serious water rather than cocktail-hour cruising. It carries fewer than 200 passengers and is equipped for expedition travel, including polar itineraries and Zodiac landings.
Then we climb.
At the top of Akureyri’s long staircase stands Akureyrarkirkja, the city’s great Lutheran church. Its tall, symmetrical towers and severe geometric façade look almost theatrical against the gray sky. From the hill, the view opens over the town and Eyjafjörður, with cruise ships resting below and long green mountainsides stretching beyond the water.
Those mountains look soft from a distance, almost as though green fabric has been draped over dark rock. The landscape was built by volcanic activity and then carved and widened by Ice Age glaciers. Fire made the land; ice sculpted it; moss, grass and streams softened the result.
Above town, a Progress Pride flag snaps in the wind. Nearby, another sign reveals an unexpected bit of Icelandic history.
Signage along the way says:
At the scene of the first television in Iceland
Between 1934 and 1936 remarkable experiments were conducted at Sjónarhæð, the house at the bottom of the hill before us. Two communication enthusiasts received television transmissions from the Crystal Palace Studios in London with equipment they had partially created themselves. The two men were an Englishman, Fredrik Livingstone Hogg, an engineer, and his apprentice, 22-year-old Grímur Sigurðsson, who later became a radio mechanic. At the time, few Icelanders had even heard about television and most were still absorbing the magic of radio that had only recently been introduced.
The transmissions received by these two men were the first in Iceland and made Grímur Sigurðsson the first Icelander ever to watch television. Both were experimenting during TV’s absolute infancy in the world. In order to do so they borrowed a few devices from the UK but others they built themselves. The antenna they needed to receive these broadcasts from London was already present in Akureyri, because a few years earlier the missionary Arthur Cook and his Christian Sjónarhæð Congregation had pioneered radio broadcasting in Iceland by setting up a missionary radio station at Sjónarhæð. Fredrik Livingstone Hogg had been the main technical person in that endeavour.
This radio station was one of the two first in Iceland operated before the creation of the state Broadcasting Service, RÚV. RÚV had the broadcasting monopoly from 1930–1986. Both of these stations were closed down before the state radio began operation.
At the beginning of the 1930s in London, some experiments were being done on TV transmissions over long distances. These experiments were part of an international competition to see which technology would win out in the television business. It was especially important to see which technology the BBC would choose for its broadcasts. The broadcasts that were received in Akureyri were based on “mechanical television technology,” pioneered by the Scottish inventor John L. Baird, who conducted experimental transmissions from Crystal Palace. This technology ultimately lost out in the competition and, after a major fire at Crystal Palace Studios in 1936, the broadcasts were ceased.
In a 1980 radio interview, Grímur Sigurðsson talked about the television project with Hogg. He said the technology they used had been 30-line technology, which means that the screen and the images they were viewing were small, probably similar to today’s cell phone screen. Transmissions were sent four nights a week for about an hour each, between 22:00 and 23:00. Grímur did not go into detail about what they were watching but said that sometimes the pictures were very clear. He particularly recalled watching a dancing woman who had a large ring on one of her fingers that they saw very clearly.
The canyon below is called Barðsgil. It is located above the Sjónarhæð House, and was important in the pioneering radio and television work in Iceland. The antenna towers that were built for radio were later used for television broadcasts and were about 35 metres high, located on each side on the top of the canyon. Connected to the antenna towers was an extensive web of copper wires that was buried in the ground and served as the ground connection. The copper is presumably still buried here under the trees and vegetation that has grown up in the canyon over the last eight decades.
The images were small and unreliable, but sometimes astonishingly clear—an early flicker of the future arriving in northern Iceland.
We pass the statue of “The Outlaw,” a rugged figure carrying a woman while a dog follows at his side, and then encounter one of Akureyri’s better student traditions. A path leading downhill from the junior college became known as the “Road to Destruction,” because students used it on their way to dances and nights out. Walk uphill, however, and it becomes the “Road to Education.” The town has managed to turn topography into a moral lesson.
The Akureyri Botanical Garden is a complete surprise. Just below the Arctic Circle, it is lush with trees, fountains and flowers from around the world. Himalayan blue poppies glow among pink blossoms, and the whole garden feels sheltered and extravagant, like a green secret hidden above the fjord. A memorial marks its founding in 1912.
Nearby stands the old junior-college building, constructed in 1904 in the decorative Swiss style. We also notice several beautifully maintained homes dated 1926 and 1928—substantial, almost mansion-like houses from a period when Akureyri was growing in confidence and prosperity.
Our next stop is St. Peter’s Catholic Church, a modest white wooden building trimmed in red. Compared with the monumental Lutheran church, it feels intimate and domestic. Inside are statues of Mary, the Christ Child and Saint Anthony, votive candles and an enormous wooden rosary. Nuns are preparing for Mass; they appear to be Carmelite sisters rather than Benedictines. The building began life as a house and was acquired for Catholic use in the early 1950s.
Back near the water, we read about Barðsnef, once considered as a possible new town center, and pass Sigling, Jón Gunnar Árnason’s dramatic steel sculpture. Its sweeping shapes suggest a ship, bird, sail and movement all at once. Set against the fjord, it seems less like a fixed monument than something poised to take flight.
The harbor has grown busier by the time we return. Large cruise ships sit across the water, while Ocean Victory remains alongside the quay, compact and purposeful beside them. Akureyri’s mountains surround the scene like the walls of an enormous green amphitheater.
And after all that climbing, history, churches, ships and botany, we finish exactly as sensible travelers should: with a beer at Akureyri Backpackers.
