This is at risk of sounding more like a travel report than an urbex report. But the truth is I travelled an epic journey to a site which was actually really underwhelming! I'll try and keep it as UE as I can.
So, after risking life, limb and more realistically kidnapping by driving off road for 2,500Km around the dodgiest bits of the Sahara desert (Libya) to visit the abandoned city of Al Qasr, I thought I'd try and find the opposite type of derp this planet has to offer.
I heard of this derelict Arctic fishing village abandoned after the war. I knew that the houses would have been concrete frame, and my mind tried to piece together the great structural condition of war era concrete pill boxes, with abandoned homes, still full of trinkets. It was on an exposed peninsular 5 days North of the closest international airstrip. It was too exciting for me to handle so I booked 11 days off work, and some flights.
Landing Vid:
Hiring the cheapest car I could - lying through my back teeth for the entirety of the paperwork, I headed off to cross the worlds second largest glacier...in a Toyoyta Aygo.
Didn't all go to plan:
Interestingly they keep all of their car products in the freezers at garages, to stop any 'temperature shock'
I couldn't find any Travelodges on the planned route nor any other hotels at all, so I had to 'socially engineer' my accommodation. My only sensibility was to go at Mid-summer; This would be the 'hottest' time of the year and would also provide 24 hours of daylight. The whole 11 days I was there the sun never set, it simply circled in the southern sky.
I digress, that was all the Palin-esque travel bit I promise.
Unfortunately the village was nothing like I'd imagined it. Things deteriorate VERY quickly in these conditions. It's not even the cold per se. It's constantly wet here, and the wind is howling all of the time. It's not unusual for 15ft of snow to fall in a winter, the weight easily crashing through unmaintained roofs.What's left are just shells. Ruins of shells. It was disappointing, but at the time I didn't care. I was just grateful to be stood on the edge of the peninsular, imagining the previous history.
History:
Before the turn of the 20th century almost the entire peninsula was populated with farms but now only a two sheep farms remain. Unfortunately these aren't explorable, they are piles of cobbles if you're lucky. I had managed to contact one of these farms which wasn't easy as they don't have phones or internet on the peninsular. But the family make a pilgrimage to the next nearest community once a week to pick up messages. They said they had a shipping container with a bed and a stove in that I could have for the night too.
On the peninsula’s eastern shore, almost at the tip, is the deserted village of Skálar. Here, seemingly at the edge of the world, stood a thriving fishing village in the early 20th century, although short lived.
Habitation in Skálar dates back to early settlement. Its residents based their livelihood on utilizing the land for sheep farming as well as the abundant fishing grounds just off shore. These fishing grounds were also frequented by foreign fishing vessels and some trade was conducted by row boats.
Landrover kindly on loan from the far
In the last decades of the 19th century, Faeroe Islanders fishermen started seeking facilities on land to process their catch. They would catch herring for bait but had problems storing it. This led to a profitable business for the local farmers, as they would harvest ice during the winter, store it in dug in turf-houses and sell them to the fisheries during the summer. In return they got salt, currency, various merchandise and later liver from which oil was made and sold at a good profit.
Three families counting 19 people stayed in Skálar the winter of 1912. Fishing and trading operation continued to flourish during the next decade and the registered population of Skálar grew to its height of 117 residents in 1924. That number would double during the summers.
What made Skálar attractive for fishermen was the proximity to the fishing grounds. The downside was the absence of a harbour and poor landing. It was a straight narrow beach open to the ocean and sitting under a steep bank with difficult to access. In 1923 a pier was built, extending from the bank onto the beach. A crane at its tip would then haul fish and merchandise in and out of the boats. That same year a mechanical freezing plant was built in Skálar.
Decline
Engine powered boats were rapidly replacing the row boats making harbour conditions more important but proximity to the fishing grounds less so. Transportation was always a problem in Skálar. In addition there was a decline in the catch and the depression brought the prices down. Fishing operations gave up and by the end of the thirties only a few lone fishermen remained with their families, a total of 47 people.
Pier looking over the Arctic Ocean
Death of a village
World War Two brought a sudden burst of activity to Skálar in its final days, with a radar station just above the village and a camp of soldiers. Along with it came work for residents and some entertainment as the soldiers operated a cinema among other things. Along with it came also the equipment that would finally put an end to habitation in Skálar. Unfortunately all of this has now gone without a trace. Sorry.
Naval mine layers were set off the east fjords and frequently mines would break off and drift away. Three such mines exploded on the beach in Skálar around 1942 destroying three houses.
The last 25 residents of Skálar village left in the autumn of 1946.
MrsX on the pier
In more recent history a fishing vessel of 12 Englishmen (from Liverpool) ran aground here in a storm. The guys tried to make it to the farm where I had stayed, just eleven miles away. Unfortunately none of them even made it the first mile before dying from exposure. The locals erected this simple cross for them.
Following this, an emergency Arctic Survival hut was installed on the peninsular. It has an emergency radio, candles, blankets and playing cards. It seemed like the perfect place for a spot of lunch.
The lighthouse is however maintained for obvious reasons.
It was unlocked! Inside:
Up the top:
Vid from the top:
Anyway time to go:
(Yes that sound did happen inside the plane...)
Thanks for reading, sorry the village was crap.
So, after risking life, limb and more realistically kidnapping by driving off road for 2,500Km around the dodgiest bits of the Sahara desert (Libya) to visit the abandoned city of Al Qasr, I thought I'd try and find the opposite type of derp this planet has to offer.
I heard of this derelict Arctic fishing village abandoned after the war. I knew that the houses would have been concrete frame, and my mind tried to piece together the great structural condition of war era concrete pill boxes, with abandoned homes, still full of trinkets. It was on an exposed peninsular 5 days North of the closest international airstrip. It was too exciting for me to handle so I booked 11 days off work, and some flights.
Landing Vid:
Hiring the cheapest car I could - lying through my back teeth for the entirety of the paperwork, I headed off to cross the worlds second largest glacier...in a Toyoyta Aygo.
Didn't all go to plan:
Interestingly they keep all of their car products in the freezers at garages, to stop any 'temperature shock'
I couldn't find any Travelodges on the planned route nor any other hotels at all, so I had to 'socially engineer' my accommodation. My only sensibility was to go at Mid-summer; This would be the 'hottest' time of the year and would also provide 24 hours of daylight. The whole 11 days I was there the sun never set, it simply circled in the southern sky.
I digress, that was all the Palin-esque travel bit I promise.
Unfortunately the village was nothing like I'd imagined it. Things deteriorate VERY quickly in these conditions. It's not even the cold per se. It's constantly wet here, and the wind is howling all of the time. It's not unusual for 15ft of snow to fall in a winter, the weight easily crashing through unmaintained roofs.What's left are just shells. Ruins of shells. It was disappointing, but at the time I didn't care. I was just grateful to be stood on the edge of the peninsular, imagining the previous history.
History:
Before the turn of the 20th century almost the entire peninsula was populated with farms but now only a two sheep farms remain. Unfortunately these aren't explorable, they are piles of cobbles if you're lucky. I had managed to contact one of these farms which wasn't easy as they don't have phones or internet on the peninsular. But the family make a pilgrimage to the next nearest community once a week to pick up messages. They said they had a shipping container with a bed and a stove in that I could have for the night too.
On the peninsula’s eastern shore, almost at the tip, is the deserted village of Skálar. Here, seemingly at the edge of the world, stood a thriving fishing village in the early 20th century, although short lived.
Habitation in Skálar dates back to early settlement. Its residents based their livelihood on utilizing the land for sheep farming as well as the abundant fishing grounds just off shore. These fishing grounds were also frequented by foreign fishing vessels and some trade was conducted by row boats.
Landrover kindly on loan from the far
In the last decades of the 19th century, Faeroe Islanders fishermen started seeking facilities on land to process their catch. They would catch herring for bait but had problems storing it. This led to a profitable business for the local farmers, as they would harvest ice during the winter, store it in dug in turf-houses and sell them to the fisheries during the summer. In return they got salt, currency, various merchandise and later liver from which oil was made and sold at a good profit.
Three families counting 19 people stayed in Skálar the winter of 1912. Fishing and trading operation continued to flourish during the next decade and the registered population of Skálar grew to its height of 117 residents in 1924. That number would double during the summers.
What made Skálar attractive for fishermen was the proximity to the fishing grounds. The downside was the absence of a harbour and poor landing. It was a straight narrow beach open to the ocean and sitting under a steep bank with difficult to access. In 1923 a pier was built, extending from the bank onto the beach. A crane at its tip would then haul fish and merchandise in and out of the boats. That same year a mechanical freezing plant was built in Skálar.
Decline
Engine powered boats were rapidly replacing the row boats making harbour conditions more important but proximity to the fishing grounds less so. Transportation was always a problem in Skálar. In addition there was a decline in the catch and the depression brought the prices down. Fishing operations gave up and by the end of the thirties only a few lone fishermen remained with their families, a total of 47 people.
Pier looking over the Arctic Ocean
Death of a village
World War Two brought a sudden burst of activity to Skálar in its final days, with a radar station just above the village and a camp of soldiers. Along with it came work for residents and some entertainment as the soldiers operated a cinema among other things. Along with it came also the equipment that would finally put an end to habitation in Skálar. Unfortunately all of this has now gone without a trace. Sorry.
Naval mine layers were set off the east fjords and frequently mines would break off and drift away. Three such mines exploded on the beach in Skálar around 1942 destroying three houses.
The last 25 residents of Skálar village left in the autumn of 1946.
MrsX on the pier
In more recent history a fishing vessel of 12 Englishmen (from Liverpool) ran aground here in a storm. The guys tried to make it to the farm where I had stayed, just eleven miles away. Unfortunately none of them even made it the first mile before dying from exposure. The locals erected this simple cross for them.
Following this, an emergency Arctic Survival hut was installed on the peninsular. It has an emergency radio, candles, blankets and playing cards. It seemed like the perfect place for a spot of lunch.
The lighthouse is however maintained for obvious reasons.
It was unlocked! Inside:
Up the top:
Vid from the top:
Anyway time to go:
(Yes that sound did happen inside the plane...)
Thanks for reading, sorry the village was crap.
Aww cheers, it was quite romantic with the mist, but the village was a let down. The climate is just so, so harsh, places deteriorate so quickly.
