A visit to Iceland’s premier bird museum
Ask any tourist to Iceland which bird they’re most looking forward to seeing on their visit, and the answer will be near-universal: the puffin. Those greedy, adorable little fucks have been front-and-centre of every travel campaign to Iceland for years: right up there with majestic triumphs of nature like the Aurora Borealis, the Golden Circle, and the Midnight Sun. Imagine that: a foolish, daffy little bird, marketed as intensely as the solar system itself, simply for possessing an obscene waddle and a wonky beak.
Who gives two hoots?
But there’s much more to Iceland’s birdlife than puffins. In fact, what Iceland lacks in other species, it makes up for in birds. According to most estimates, around 10 million breeding pairs regularly nest on the island. They’re the most abundant type of animal you’ll see in Iceland, and are undoubtedly nationally significant. The first sighting of the lóa — the Arctic golden plover — makes headlines every year as it marks the start of spring. Many communities have local no-go areas dominated by the viciously aggressive kría (Arctic terns), which everyone knows to avoid if they don’t want a good pecking. And, even today, the Falcon Cross remains the highest honor an individual can receive from the state — based on the national bird, the gyrfalcon.
“Iceland is one of the best countries in the world for birdwatching, and yet, there’s often little in the way of infrastructure to support or encourage this.”
On the flipside, Iceland plays an absolutely critical role in supporting the northern hemisphere’s birds. It’s a breeding ground and stopover location for many migratory birds on their annual pilgrimage to and from the north. Huge colonies of guillemots, gulls, razorbills and other seabirds line the cliffs and shores of the entire country. Then, areas like Hornstrandir, Þingvellir, and Lake Mývatn play host to some of the most badass airborne predators in the world: owls, eagles, falcons and more.
All of this means Iceland is one of the best countries in the world for birdwatching, and yet, there’s little in the way of infrastructure, such as bird hides, to support or encourage this — meaning that birdwatching is largely the domain of those in the know: photographers, twitchers, hobbyists. That makes it an unstructured, self-driven pursuit, rather than something totally accessible.
Taxidermy, moss, and button-pushing
There are a few exceptions to this though, chief among them being Sigurgeir’s Bird Museum on Lake Mývatn’s northern shore. On arrival, you’re greeted by spectacular views of the lake, as well as distant mountains and lava fields, and of course, dozens of cute birds. The museum itself is just a short walk along the shore, its inconspicuous turf roof, glass and stone construction almost blending it into the landscape.
Formally opened in 2008, the museum is run by the family of Sigurgeir Stefánsson — a Mývatn local who began collecting and stuffing birds in his twenties and eventually amassed one of Iceland’s largest collections of bird specimens. At the time of his death in 1999, it was Sigurgeir’s ambition at age 37 to build a museum to house all of the bird fauna and eggs from his collection. Thanks to the work of his family and community, this became a reality nearly 10 years later.
Sigurgeir’s older sister Stefanía still works at the museum today, and brings a welcoming homely charm to the rather postmodern interior of the museum shop. If you purchase a ticket to enter, the first thing she’ll show you is a bowl of marimo — the strange, sentient-seeming moss balls which are native only to Lake Mývatn in Iceland and Lake Akan in Japan. Then, she leads you into the main exhibit, where she sets you loose on the collection.
On entry, the exhibit room is rather astonishing. Areas of it are in near-total darkness, with much of the room lit only by the glass cases holding the bird specimens. These contain all but one of the bird species which can be seen in Iceland, as well as dozens of their eggs. Each glass case groups them by type or habitat: there’s a case of geese, one of seabirds, another of ducks, birds of prey, and so on. Then, each bird has a corresponding label in Icelandic and English as well as a button which can be pressed to light them up, so you can see which is which. With more than 300 specimens in the room, it possesses that sort of uncanny eeriness that only a large quantity of taxidermy can provoke. But, each bird is immaculately well-preserved, giving you the opportunity to see some extremely rare species up close, no binoculars required.
Killing two birds with one stone (but not actually)
Once you finish looking around the main exhibit, Stefanía will direct you to another, quite different exhibit in the building next door. This exhibit tells you some of the history of Lake Mývatn, in particular, the boat Sleipnir which was used to transport both people and cargo around the lake between 1930 and 1977. At that time, cars could travel to the southern shore of the lake, but no further than that; Sleipnir therefore enabled a vital service for the farms around the rest of Mývatn which lacked transportation. Along with the boat, the Sleipnir exhibit features stories from Mývatn as well as some of the items used by people who used to work on the lake. Like the main bird exhibit, it’s minimal, but it gives you some insight into the way of life in the area before the age of mass tourism.
Back in the museum, there’s a few other treats like homemade soup, smoked trout, ‘lava bread’ and waffles, as well as some souvenirs (the retro-looking mugs in particular will give you a lot of street cred with bird watchers). But the highlight is undoubtedly the telescope. It sounds basic, but it’s a relatively sophisticated bit of kit that’s free to use and lets you get detailed close-ups of some of the birds living on the lake — which could be a gateway to twitching for many a novice bird fancier.
Sigurgeir’s Bird Museum is a great little stop if you’re driving around Lake Mývatn. Not only do you get to learn about birds, you also get to watch birds. In this way, a visit to the museum lets you kill two birds with one stone. (But only figuratively. Please don’t attempt to actually do that.)
For opening times and admission fees at Sigurgeir’s Bird Museum, visit fuglasafn.is