It had been suggested that a trip to Skalholt, although not stunning, was worth a detour. So we went with that advice. The journey from Gullfoss was fairly uneventful, as we were now used to steam vents out of hilltops and gushing waterfalls, and it was a decent road throughout.
Skalholt was a Bishopric for virtually seven decades from 1056 (confirmed by bishop’s mitre over the door) and the current church proudly stands in a prime site overlooking some incredible countryside. Make no bones about it; the views on a bright, crisp summer’s day are absolutely superb, as Skalholt, on a local hillock, offers great views on a full 360º panorama.
The straight, angular nature of the current cathedral, with its pure white walls, offers a befitting contrast to the lush surroundings. Although only 40 years old, it retains a traditional feel as the square tower with its arrow like apex points poignantly to the heavens. At the back of the cathedral, the first full Icelandic translation of the bible is proudly on show. It looks a fine tome with its original binding still in excellent condition.
The church itself is ultra-modern insofar as it boasts a minimalist approach to church furniture. The ceiling is beautifully created out of wood and the stained glass windows are bright and colourful in an abstract design. There’s a sensational mosaic of Jesus at the front of the church behind the altar, which initially has the impression of being a huge tapestry. Truly a work of art - although not to my taste. The scale of this church is vast considering the size of the community that it serves. It’s bright and a little bleak, but I suspect that the acoustics are supreme, and the music played and sung here will boom around the church for all to appreciate.
For a small fee, you can check out the foundations of the original church and view the sarcophagus of an influential parishioner of the original church. Crypts always make fascinating viewing, and the one at Skalholt is no exception.
Outside are the remains of the old church buildings – a school, dormitories, and the Bishop’s residence – which once formed the centre of the largest community on the island in the early 13th century. A simple map explaining the excavation helped us understand the site much better. Indeed, we speculated that if there had not been a devastating earthquake, which destroyed the very fabric of this prestigious community in the 18th century, perhaps this would have been Iceland’s major community rather than Reykjavik.
About 100m away from the cathedral is a crude monument commemorating Iceland’s last Catholic bishop who was beheaded in the mid-1500s following a "skirmish" with the Danish king, who wanted to ensure that Lutherism was the island’s only accepted religion. It was clearly tough standing up for your faith in those days.