I was told hitchhiking in the Westfjords would be easy. Later that month I would find that it was so much more – getting rides from an artist, a theatre-going couple and a former member of parliament – but on my first day in the region I was only attracting flying insects.
I was in Ísafjörður in 2023 primarily to do a summer school language course at the University Centre. As any football fan probably would, I ran through fixture lists as soon as I knew the dates I’d be there. The town is home to two teams, second division Vestri who are the current incarnation of a former combination usually remembered as Bí/Bolungarvík, and Hörður Ísafirði in the sixth tier. The larger club was no issue as I would have two opportunities to see them play at home in my three weeks there, both at the sponsorship-name-laden Olísvöllurinn which is renowned for its panoramic views of the fjord, hillside and small airport runway across the water.

Above: The panorama at Skeiðisvöllur is dominated by mountains.
The one beyond the town is Traðarhyrna.
Below: Fans sit at the foot of Ernir

For the club that still bears the name of the town, my only option was to travel two towns over for their home game, on the Sunday of my arrival. Despite Olísvöllurinn being their main home ground, the pitch being real turf meant that it struggled to handle games on successive days, and Vestri took precedence. The talk was already that a new artificial turf would be laid at Olísvöllurinn in the winter which would increase its durability for the 2024 season, but for now Hörður would need to play some of their home games at Skeiðisvöllur in Bolungarvík.
It is 13 kilometres from car park to car park of the two venues, largely following the region-spanning Djúpvegur (a nick-namesake for Vestri, both in reference to Djúpið, meaning “the Deep”, the enormous, almost-region-bisecting fjord system) to its arguably effective end point at Hnífsdalur. Here the old road along the water’s edge is no longer open due to a history of avalanches and rock slides which resulted in the construction of a 5km-long tunnel under the mountain, which opened in 2010. It was fair to say that walking was out of the question, and the public transport in the Westfjords was not going to take me there, especially on a Sunday. Hitchhiking for the first time in my life looked like my only option.
In theory it was a simple plan. I could easily make it to a point on the road where every car would be heading to Hnífsdalur or Bolungarvík, and I had even tried to get in touch with people I knew through my Instagram page who were involved with Hörður to see if I could arrange a ride, but most were apparently already at the ground. Quite a few cars passed without stopping and my prospects felt like they were diminishing by the time I saw a car pass me whose inhabitants were all wearing the clubs gear. I may have been close to giving up, but a few minutes later that same car returned with four players and an unoccupied fifth seat, having turned around to collect me.

Above left: An Instagram story.
Above top right: My driver Sigurður, Dagur and Birkir with me in the back, and Davíð taking the photo
Above bottom right: My initial pre-match view of the field.
Below: The scoreboard was not only not used, but “heima” fell down before kickoff

Delivered right to Skeiðisvöllur, the views were immediately beautiful – the hillside, town and fjord making what could be argued is an even greater panorama than that of Olísvöllurinn. On the other hand, the facilities available made it very clear what tier of football was being hosted. Someone less used to these lower echelons might have missed the charm of a dry grass pitch, the pair of dugouts made of the nation’s ubiquitous corrugated iron, finished long ago with paint that had since become flakey, and also the admittedly very long wooden log used as the largest piece of spectator seating not covered in rock or grass. The majority of the squad, plus the group of match officials that included Valur and Iceland legend Elín Metta Jensen (ahead of her joining Þróttur weeks later), were in the Portacabins that made up the remaining infrastructure, doubling as changing rooms and toilets. Opponents Álafoss arrived after their long road trip from Mosfellsbær and joined them inside, while I received a previous seasons Hörður jersey from the hosts (note to clubs: I accept gifts).
Under the mountain Ernir, which appears as a pointed peak from the field, fans began to fill the naturalistic terrace formed of the sometimes steeply rising hillside and continued to do so after the opening kick-off. The official record puts the attendance at 60 (likely an estimate since there is no entry gate or fee to count how many show up) largely made up of friends and family of the players. Some Vestri players were among those watching too, most of which in 2023 came from outside of Iceland, unlike the Hörður squad who were almost entirely from the Westfjords. Those who grew up in Bolungarvík will have spent their childhoods playing on this very pitch. Guðmundur Jónasson, who starts today’s game on the bench, is one of those from the town. He would later tell me how important it is to train on grass rather than artificial turf, and also about the fan experience there: “I think it’s much nicer [than at Olísvöllurinn] to come and watch a game on Skeiðisvöllur when the weather is good, then you can sit on the grass and enjoy it, but when it’s raining it isn’t so fun.”
Grateful that I was there on a relatively warm and sunny day, I saw a well contested and entertaining first half end goalless. It was the driver of the car that took me to the game, Sigurður Arnar Hannesson, who would open the floodgates 10 minutes into the second half with a header from close range. Fellow passenger Birkir Eydal then doubled the home teams lead a few minutes later with a shot from a wide position which was deflected on its way in.

Above: Corrugated metal is commonly seen on homes in Iceland,
and here it is on the home of the substitutes
Below: Portacabins house the changing rooms and toilets

Both scorers are just about old enough to have played youth football for BÍ/Bolungarvík and have since played sparingly with the adult Vestri team while mostly playing for Hörður either side of those appearances. While definitely not specifically referring to these players or anyone in particular, Guðmundur Jónasson tells me about how Hörður provides more opportunities to play football: “I think many players would just quit playing because they aren’t good enough for Vestri or don’t get a chance there, and it helps younger players develop.” Personally I see this as one of the big reasons lower levels of football are so important, as an avenue to play the sport for longer, even if you’re not at the elite level. Certainly there are also players who have managed to convert stints at Hörður into more consistent playing time at Vestri. Guðmundur Páll Einarsson, Guðmundur Arnar Svavarsson, and Ívar Breki Helgason are among those to do so in recent years, combining for 49 appearances across competitions in 2023.
Sigurður Arnar got his second goal with 20 minutes left in the game after Álafoss failed to clear a free kick. He should have had his hat trick but snatched at the chance presented from the keepers sliced kick. Perhaps thinking about how they were making the return drive to the Capital Region later that same day, Álafoss weren’t prepared to let that be the end of the story though, and finally woke up to make a game of it. Following a double substitution with 10 minutes left which included the entry of Björn Grétar Sveinsson, he was the one to benefit from a direct approach, receiving a long ball and slotting home after just two minutes on the pitch.

Above: Another highlight of the view here is fjord called Djúpið,
which translates as “the Deep”
Below: Gabriel Heiðberg Kristjánsson heads towards goal

Gabriel Heiðberg Kristjánsson seemed to have put a 4th goal in for the hosts, but it was disallowed for an attacker who was off the ball being judged to have interfered with play from an offside position. Momentum was still with the visitors though, and their captain Gabriel Máni Hallsson cut the lead further with a screamer that went in off the crossbar.
The final drama came when the Álafoss keeper went forward for a corner in a last ditch effort for an equaliser. While unsuccessful, Hörður made a counter-attack and were stopped from scoring when Ívar Örn Elvarsson was sent off for an intentional foul as the last man.

Above: Would you sit on the log or the grass?
Below: Hörður are the only Icelandic team allowed to wear White, red and blue on the same jersey (the national colours), because their usage of the striped pattern predates the rule and the country gaining independence

With the fans and players leaving, I once again found myself needing a ride. This time it was with home team goalkeeper Benedikt Jóhann Snædal and substitute Helgi Rafn Hermannsson. Through the haze of the second half entertainment and late drama, I knew I was experiencing what would be, for me at least, a rare football occasion. Olísvöllurinn is relaying their pitch with artificial turf for the new season, but Skeiðisvöllur will probably still host games for Hörður and maybe the new entrant to the women’s leagues for Vestri (though no games are scheduled for either at the time of writing). It takes a particular cross-section of nerdy interests for someone living in Glasgow to travel to Bolungarvík for a sixth-tier football game in a country where the top division isn’t played by professionals. Even for me it’s the kind of experience where at certain points on the journey I find myself asking “what am I doing?”
I had that same feeling on a tram in Dublin not long before my trip to Bolungarvík. Much closer to home for me than Iceland, I was in the process of staying up for over 24 hours so that I could see Breiðablik play in the Champions League against Shamrock Rovers without having to book a hotel. “What am I doing?” It was a question that was scrubbed entirely from my mind once I was watching the match amongst travelling Icelanders, for what was a football experience I will never forget, and my first time at a Champions League match. My trip to Bolungarvík is also one I’ll never forget, and a perfect highlight of why I appreciate football at all levels. A truly unique venue, entertaining competition, and people who love what they’re doing as much as I love being there for it.
Additional photos below. click on any in this article to expand.







