The ship threads its way between the islets of Breiðafjörður, so numerous that Icelanders say with a laugh that no one ever manages to count them. Reefs topped with short grass slide past the hull, terns dive into the wake, then the dark cliff of Súgandisey rises up and suddenly closes off the bay. Behind this natural rampart, about a thousand people live in a town of colourful wooden houses, turned toward its fishing fleet. Stykkishólmur guards the northern entrance to the Snæfellsnes Peninsula, and its dock is just a few minutes' walk from the centre: the call begins at the gangway.

An old trading town by the fjord

Maritime trade has animated this anchorage for centuries, and the village's old core is among the best preserved in Iceland. Walking up the main street, you pass 19th-century homes repainted in red, ochre and blue, often identified by the name of their first owner. The most remarkable is the Norwegian House, built in 1832 with timber imported from Norway: the country's first two-storey residence, it now houses the regional museum and recreates the daily life of a merchant family of yesteryear.

A little higher up, the modern church completed in 1990 surprises with its white curves, evoking both a wave and an upturned hull. From its forecourt, the view takes in the colourful rooftops, the bay and the myriad islands rolling out to the horizon.

Súgandisey lighthouse

You can't miss the village's simplest walk: the causeway linking the dock to the basalt islet of Súgandisey. A staircase climbs between lava columns to the small orange lighthouse watching over the channel. Up there, the wind carries the cries of gulls, eiders drift at the foot of the cliff and Breiðafjörður spreads out its island-studded waters. Allow about fifteen minutes from the ship for this panorama, which alone sums up western Iceland.

The pantry of Breiðafjörður

The fjord has always fed the region, and the boat excursions departing from the dock tell its story better than any museum. You can observe tidal currents swirling between the reefs, seabird colonies and, with a bit of luck, the heavy flight of a white-tailed eagle. Some outings haul up a scallop dredge and offer a taste of the shellfish fresh out of the water, a freshness that speaks for itself. At the edge of the harbour, a curiosity is worth a detour: the Library of Water, a contemporary art installation where glass columns hold water from Icelandic glaciers.

Toward the Snæfellsjökull glacier

For those who prefer wide-open spaces, Stykkishólmur serves as a starting point for the peninsula's landscapes. Organized excursions let you see the highlights in half a day:

• Kirkjufell, a solitary pyramid set at the water's edge, one of the most photographed mountains in Iceland;
• the basalt columns of Gerðuberg, a wall of regular columns in the middle of a lava field;
• the black beach of Djúpalónssandur, strewn with the rusty remains of a shipwrecked trawler;
• Snæfellsjökull National Park, dominated by the glacier Jules Verne chose as the entrance for his Journey to the Centre of the Earth.

The roads are good, but the distances require choices: better to savour one or two sites than chase after them all.

Before returning on board

Take time for one last walk around the dock. Fishermen unload their crates, kids fish at the end of the jetty, and the smell of seaweed and salt drifts between the warehouses. Nearby restaurants serve scallops and cod from the fjord, while the bakery treats early boarders to a cinnamon bun. As the ship pulls away, the islets slowly close in behind the lighthouse cliff, and everyone understands why the people of this far-flung corner wouldn't trade their bay for any other.