Abandoned Railway Dorms (台鐵安東街宿舍案)

Urban Exploration? It’s been a while! Even though I continue to actively explore in my free time, I haven’t posted anything urbex-related in quite a while. There are actually a few reasons for this - The most obvious is that I’ve been way too busy with commercial work and have had a difficult time catching up with all of the personal photos and blogs that I haven’t had a chance to get to.

When it comes to urbex-related stuff, I’ll eventually get to it, but sometimes if the story behind a place that I’m exploring doesn’t really interest me that much, I won’t spend much time writing about it. There are of course also some more annoying reasons why I haven’t been willing to post much urbex-related stuff in recent months, but I’m not really going to get into that here.

All I’ll say about that is the reason you’re seeing this today is because the area I’m writing about is already gone.

With todays post, I had the luck to be able to combine my enjoyment of urban exploration with a bit of research about Taiwanese history dating back to the Japanese Colonial Era, something that interests me quite a bit.

If you’ve been reading my blog for a while you’ll probably have noticed that I’ve lamented ad nauseam about the fact that when the Japanese Colonial Era ended in Taiwan, most of what was constructed that had anything to do with Japanese culture or religion was torn down or repurposed. Suffice to say, even though a lot of buildings were destroyed by the Chinese Nationalists, they didn’t actually tear down everything that the Japanese constructed.

In fact, a lot of the infrastructure that was constructed by the Japanese (in addition to the efficient way that they did things) was successfully emulated by the incoming regime, proving tremendously helpful when it came to further developing the country.

One of the best examples of this was the way the Japanese provided dormitories for employees of the state - So if you were a civil servant, worked at a school, university, hospital, were a member of the police force or the railway, it was likely that you had a dormitory assigned for yourself and your family.

It goes without saying that the “dorms” provided are not likely the university-style dormitories that you’re thinking - They were often large Japanese-style homes that were provided based on the importance of the work that you were doing with higher ranking state employees receiving larger homes for themselves while others would have received shared accommodations.

The dorms were also almost always constructed very close to your place of work, so if for example you were a police officer, the housing you were provided with was likely very close to the precinct you worked at. Likewise if you were a teacher or a principal, your home was likely constructed on school grounds or next door to the campus.

Link: Zhongli Police Dormitories (中壢警察局日式宿舍群)
Link: Jhudong Dormitories (竹東林務宿舍)

When the Nationalists arrived in Taiwan though they brought with them a couple of million refugees from China which instantly created a housing crisis. To solve this problem they moved many of the higher ranking bureaucrats that came with them into the existing dormitories constructed by the Japanese while at the same time emulating the Japanese and created “Military Villages” (眷村) of their own to be used as “temporary” housing.

As I’ve mentioned a few times in previous posts, the Chinese Nationalists arrived in Taiwan with the mindset that they were only going to be here on a short term basis while the Japanese on the other hand developed the island with the mindset that they were never going to leave; This is why many of those “dorms” constructed by the Japanese are still standing today while the hastily constructed Military Villages built by the Nationalists are falling apart and being torn down.

It is unfortunate that most of the buildings of cultural and religious significance that were constructed by the Japanese have already been torn down, but we can at least take solace in the fact that the history of the colonial era hasn’t been completely erased as the continued existence of the “dorms” acts as a link to an important period of Taiwan’s history.

In recent years, the Taiwanese government has done an admirable job (and spent a considerable amount of money) restoring many of the remaining buildings constructed during the Colonial Era and has converted them into tourist destinations. This renaissance of sorts has helped to highlight the fact that Taiwan is in fact an interesting country with an interesting history, which is something that is often overlooked by the local people here.

​A few months back I was invited to take a tour of the recently restored Taipei Railway Workshop (台北機廠) - The workshop, which is now open to the public for tours is an important piece of Taiwan’s history that dates back almost a century and is an excellent place to learn about Taiwan’s amazing railway system and how the railway was instrumental in Taiwan’s development.

While touring the workshop, one of the questions that came to mind was whether or not there were dormitories on-site - It seemed probable that one of the buildings in the administrative section could have been used for shared accommodations, but I was never able to confirm that. So while doing research for the article I was writing about the workshop, I took a bit of time to search out where the railway dorms were located.

One of the ways that I typically do research on this kind of stuff is to first take a look at the satellite view on Google Maps. The problem however in this case is that the Railway Workshop was located directly next door to the Songshan Tobacco Factory (松山菸廠), which would have also had dorms of its own. So without a definitive answer, I started doing some research.

The layout of the Eastern Block of the Taipei Railway Dormitories

In no time I discovered that the Railway Bureau had a few separate communities of dorms available for employees at the workshop and beyond. The largest of which was the nearby “Eastern Block” (臺北機廠東宿舍) community in the Songshan Area which dates back to 1937 (昭和12年). Although that community no longer exists today (the dorms were later moved), the interesting thing is that the land they were constructed on is currently home to the popular Wufenpu Shopping District (五分埔商圈) near the Raohe Night Market (饒河夜市).

Link: 臺北機廠東宿舍 (臺北市信義區文史地圖)

Link: Songshan Railway Residences (Synapticism)

If you were wondering about the other large community of railway dorms, namely the “Western Block” (台北西區鐵道宿舍群) you don’t have to look much further than the area between Taipei Train Station (台北車站) and the North Gate (北門).

The area was once home to the historic Taiwan Railway Hotel (台灣鐵道飯店) as well as a large community of dorms, both of which are currently in the process of being restored and will be open to the public in the near future - Unfortunately though, most of the dorm section has already been torn down and converted into a public park.

While it was actually quite simple to research the history of the Japanese-style railway dorm communities, the situation with the modern “Eastern Block Railway Dorms” was a bit more difficult to understand. The majority of the information online is either from some local news sites or real estate sites that were looking to rent out some of the apartments within.

So here’s what I can tell you - The modern high-rise style Railway dorm community was constructed in Taipei’s Eastern District between Zhongxiao Fuxing (忠孝復興站) and Nanjing Fuxing (南京復興站) MRT Stations. Constructed in the 1970s, the Taiwan Railway Andong Street Dorms (台鐵安東街宿舍案) became the new home for most of those who were living in the original dorm community in Songshan.

The apartment block consisted of several buildings in a walled-community and at full occupancy had enough space for two hundred apartments. After several decades however many of the people who were living in the apartments started to move out due to rising rent prices and employee layoffs, leaving many of the apartments abandoned.

At the turn of the century, the abandoned apartments started to become a problem for the local community as they apparently started to attract homeless people and drug users. Likewise the parking lot for some reason became a local dumping ground for abandoned cars, which attracted garbage, mosquitos and other pests.

The local Village Representative (里長) complained to the Taipei City Government on several occasions about the situation but nothing could be done as the community wasn’t completely abandoned and those families still living inside were unwilling to relocate. The Taiwan Railway Administration likewise was losing an insane amount of money every year in property taxes on a plot of land that would otherwise be considered prime real estate and the central government was none-too-happy about the accumulating losses.

Link: 台鐵安東街宿舍荒廢淪車輛棄置廠 (民視新聞)

In 2015, the community made headlines across the Taipei culinary scene when the Railway Administration issued eviction notices to the occupants of the 3600 square meter area. This meant that all the occupants and businesses in the area would have to relocate as the community would eventually be torn down. The most famous occupant, Lin Dong-Fang Beef Noodles (林東芳牛肉麵), a staple of the local food scene, likewise would have to find a new place to operate their business - sending late night foodies into a frenzy. Where would one get their late night beef noodles fix if they closed?

Link: 台鐵局收回宿舍用地 林東芳牛肉麵年底前要搬家 (ET Today)

The good news is that they found a new place nearby to cook their noodles.

When I blogged about the Taipei Railway Workshop, I wanted to check out the dorms, but I found out that it would ultimately be a race against time as the buildings were about to be completely demolished. So, I found some time to get myself to the area, found a way in and explored a few of the abandoned apartment buildings. To tell the truth though, when I arrived, they had already started tearing down many of the buildings, so I was really limited as to what I could take photos of.

As you’re reading this now, the buildings are already completely demolished and the future of the land is yet to be decided. One would hope that the Taipei City Government in conjunction with the Central Government would follow through on their campaign promises and use the land to construct affordable public housing, but only time will tell.

Still, I’m glad that I was able to get into the apartments to check them out and document an interesting part of Taiwan’s history that is likely to be completely forgotten.


Changhua Sea-Shell Temple (彰化貝殼廟)

One of the benefits of being a foreigner here in Taiwan is that I have somewhat of an advantage over my local friends when it comes to not getting freaked out by the multitude of scary supernatural things that they worry about on a daily basis. Superstition is a real thing here and from a young age people are conditioned to do a lot of quirky things that might make you scratch your head.

I’m pretty sure the only thing I grew up being afraid of was clowns. 

When I explore abandoned buildings or weird temples, my friends often ask how I could be so ‘brave’ to visit these places. I’ve never considered it to be a question of whether or not I was being courageous, I just assumed that the difference was that I was brought up in a different culture and the things that bother people here don’t bother me at all.

On the other hand if a clown suddenly jumped out in front of me on a dark street, I’m sure they probably wouldn’t understand why I ran away screaming.

That being said, I have to admit that there are times when I do get freaked out. 

There have been a few such occasions. 

The first time was when I was exploring an abandoned Military Village (眷村) with my good friend Alexander Synaptic. As I walked into one of the abandoned homes, no less than a half-dozen Huntsmen Spiders dropped down from above the door frame and separated the two of us - I wasn’t sure I was going to make it out alive.

If you don’t know what a Huntsmen spider is, count yourself lucky. They’re bigger than my hand and you can see their eyes moving around. Gross.

Coincidentally, the second time I got freaked out was also thanks to Alexander. 

I’m starting to sense a pattern.

A few months ago I wrote about the Sanzhi Seashell Temple on Taiwan’s northern coast. Shortly after Alex mentioned to me that there was another seashell temple in Taiwan and it was even cooler than the one in Sanzhi. He also mentioned that it was one of his favourite temples. In the back of my mind I knew that for a temple to be on the top of his list, it would have to be “special” but I figured I should probably find some time to visit anyway. 

When I did visit, I ended up finding myself a bit weirded out. 

The Changhua Seashell Temple certainly isn’t what you’d consider a typical Taiwanese place of worship, but it is one that has the ability to freak out locals (and foreigners alike) and acts as a bit of a strange tourist attraction for those brave enough to visit.  

The Changhua Sea Shell Temple (彰化貝殼廟)

The so-called “Changhua Sea Shell Temple”, is actually just the nickname given to the “Sanqing Sanyuan Temple” (三清三元宮) which is located conveniently just across the river from the popular tourist town of Lukang (鹿港). The temple is the earliest of Taiwan’s “Sea Shell Temples” (貝殼廟) and like Taichung’s Rainbow Village is the work of a single man who brought his dreams to life. 

Constructed by a local man named Huang Chi-Chun (黃奇春), the temple took several decades to complete.

Having previously spent much of his youth working in Taipei, Mr. Huang returned to his childhood home in Changhua in 1978 (民國67年), bought some land and as one does, got himself into the tropical fish farming business.

The thing is though, Mr. Huang was a high school dropout and after working his whole life to provide for his family, purchasing land and starting a business was no small matter. Fortunately his fish farming business was a relatively successful venture and his retirement savings weren’t completely wasted. 

I’m sure when Mr. Huang purchased the land that he got it for a really good price. It was after all situated next to a cemetery. I’m also sure that his friends and family would have reminded him about the hazards of purchasing the land, but it would seem that he was a bit of a quirky guy, so he didn’t really pay much attention to the warnings. 

Shortly after opening his fish farm, Mr. Huang started having strange dreams where images of a mysterious underwater temple appeared to him almost every night. Memories of his days as a soldier also often appeared in his dreams and in particular he tells of a vivid recollection of a time when a ranking officer gifted him with statues of the “Three Pure Ones” (三清道祖). 

Link: The Three Pure Ones (Wiki) - 中文 / English

The frequency of the dreams convinced Mr. Huang that something supernatural was taking place and that his visions were telling him that it was his responsibility to construct the temple exactly as it appeared in his dreams.

Interestingly Mr. Huang claims that once the temple was completed his dreams suddenly stopped, which he took as a message of divine gratitude for the work he had spent decades to complete.

Like Noah who constructed the Ark, Mr. Huang had little experience in temple design or building techniques, so the construction of the temple required a bit of divine assistance. Save for hiring a few workers to help him construct the foundation of the temple, the rest of the temple was completed single-handedly between 1978 and 1993 when it was (roughly) finished. 

To construct the temple, Mr. Huang collected several species of mollusc shells from nearby waters (Specifically: 唐冠螺, 鐘螺, 錐螺, 蠑螺, 寶螺, 玉螺, 鳳凰螺, 海兔螺, 法螺, 貝殼) and purchased a large amount of sandstone from Hengchun (恆春) in the south of Taiwan. 

To fix the seashells to the walls, Mr. Huang first connected them together with a network of wires and then molded them into the walls with the sandstone - which is notable for its relatively soft nature and the ease of carving it into various designs. 

The temple sits on 200 square meters of land but is actually just a small part of a larger complex that consists of Mr. Huang’s fish farm, a seashell shop and what looks like a failed attempt at creating a restaurant - oh and of course the grave of his wife is inside as well. 

As you drive down the narrow country road to the temple you can’t help to notice the odd shape of the exterior as you approach. The exterior which is almost castle-like is covered in white seashells that have turned a shade of yellow or black due to exposure to the sun and pollution.

Near the front gate you’ll find a parking lot that sits between directly between the temple and the cemetery on the other side. 

Something you’ll note as soon as you step out of your car is that the area is infested with insects - This shouldn’t really be a huge surprise though considering the temple is located on farmland, next to a fish farm and a million sea shells. 

The entrance to the temple is probably one of the most attractive parts of the whole complex (at least in my opinion). The gate has a traditional round door adorned with seashells on the sides. There is a wooden plaque above the entrance with really cool Chinese calligraphy indicating the name of the temple and porcelain images of gods on top of the arch. The gate is also somewhat shrouded in greenery with trees and plants on both sides giving it somewhat of a natural look as you enter.  

Once you pass through the gate, you will be immediately met with an incense urn and a walkway that is lined with creepy-looking figures on one layer and more recognizable local deities on the layer above.

The nightmare-inducing human-like figures that line the walls on both sides of the walkway are made even creepier thanks to the intricate coral decorations behind them that look eerily similar to bones.

As you approach the Main Hall of the temple, you’ll walk next to four pillars decorated with large sea-shells that lead to the roofed part of the temple. Like the rest of the temple, the roof is intricately decorated but it a bit hard to see given the angle of the walkway that leads up to it. 

After you’ve passed the four pillars you’ll notice that there is a walkway on the left and right with even more sea-shell designs. Before you enter the Main Hall its a good idea to walk around the perimeter of the exterior of the hall to check out the murals of dragons, phoenixes and other mythical creates that Mr. Huang created using sea shells and coral.

The whole thing is surreal and reminded me of some of the awkward 1980’s style designs that I saw at the abandoned amusement park in Taoyuan.

The entrance to the Main Hall is similar to the main gate, however the door here is octagonal (八卦) and has dragon pillars on either side. The plaque above the door likewise uses the same style of Chinese typography as the entrance, but this time it is written horizontally with the words “Sanqing Sanyuan Temple” (三清三元宮). 

When you enter the Main Hall of the temple you’ll suddenly realize that there is a distinct lack of sea shells or coral and it would seem the whole underwater theme got thrown out the window.

The Main Hall is dark, smoky, full of dust and somewhat unkept.

For local visitors, its customary to pay respects to the deities enshrined inside, but as far as temples go, the whole set up is a bit odd. There is only one shrine, and its littered with a bunch of randomly placed statues surrounding the “Three Pure Ones” (三清道祖). Offhand I recognized the Earth God (福德正神), Guanyin (觀音菩薩) and Kuixing (魁星).

Now here’s where things get a bit creepy. 

While I was inside the shrine room attempting to take photos in the dark, the caretaker lady who runs the place came in and told me that it was closing time. She informed me that she already closed the gate behind me, so I’d have to exit through the basement. 

So here I am in this weird temple next to a cemetery that is infested with insects and the lady is telling me that I need to go through the basement to exit.

If you’re not already aware, basements aren’t really all that common here in Taiwan, so the fact that I’d have to “exit” through the basement was a bit weird. Not only that, the stairs down to the basement were strangely steep and narrow and at the bottom the lightbulbs were neon red. 

I was pretty sure I was about to get murdered. 

Fortunately Taiwan is a pretty safe place, so I sucked it up and walked down the stairs which opened up to a weird hallway with more neon lights on the walls as well as more of Mr. Huang’s sea shell art.

After checking out some of the murals, I decided it was about time to get my ass out of there.

After a minute or two of walking down the hallway it opened up to a large area where you can buy sea shells and check out the fish farm. By that time though, I wasn’t really very interested in sticking around any longer.

It was getting dark, I had to get my rental scooter back to Changhua City and hop on the train back home.

There are a lot of reasons why this place is likely to freak people out. It’s not your typical temple, but then again, there are quite a few flamboyant places of worship constructed by ‘imaginative’ people around the world, so who am I to criticize this guy’s life’s work and his art? 

I visited and got out alive, so I can’t really complain, right? 

Getting There

 

Address: 彰化縣福興鄉福南村振興巷10-1號

Getting to the temple isn’t really that difficult if you have access to Google Maps, but in this case you’re unfortunately not going to be able to rely on public transportation to get there. 

If you’d like to visit, the temple is a short distance away from the popular tourist town of Lukang (鹿港). To get there you simply cross the river that takes you into Fuxing Township and then follow Fusan Road (福三路) until you reach Zhengxing Alley (振興巷). From there you’ll turn and drive down a narrow road until you reach the temple.

The best way to get there is to either ride a scooter, drive a car, take a taxi or ride a Youbike. You can easily find YouBikes in Lukang and the ride to the temple is less than two kilometres, so it shouldn’t take you too long.

If I were to compare the two sea shell temples, it would be easy to say that the temple in New Taipei is the clear winner when it comes to beauty. That however wouldn’t take into consideration that the temple had a team of artisans and copious amounts of cash thrown at it. This temple on the other hand was fully funded, designed and constructed by a single man who used his ingenuity and several decades of his life to make it into what it is today. 

While I don’t particularly understand the necessity of a temple full of dead aquatic life ripped from the ocean, there’s not much I can say now that its been completed. Religion makes people do weird things sometimes and while this temple might be a bit creepy, a bit haunted, or whatever else you’d like to say, its also an interesting look into the creativity of a man whose work I suppose you could compare to the work Gaudi did on Barcelona’s Sagrada Familia - and if thats the case, I guess you could say that’s quite the compliment. 

Whether or not you should visit is up to you. It is a weird and wonderful place and if you’re looking for something different, this is one that you’ll not want to miss.


Hallgrímskirkja Church

After an exhaustive trip around Iceland, we arrived back in the capital city of Reykjavik for two nights of respite before flying out of the country and onto our next destination. The previous twelve days were a meticulously planned action-packed adventure enjoying some of the most beautiful landscapes you can find on this planet - and a lot of time driving..

We had started to plan our adventure more than six months before we even got on an airplane at London’s Gatwick Airport and ended up with an extremely detailed itinerary that ensured we made the most of our time in Iceland.

The last day and a half though? Yeah, we didn’t really plan that much.

We figured we’d be tired and we’d just mull about Reykjavik, check out a couple places of interest and possibly eat one of those famous hotdogs that everyone talks about (it was amazing).

Reykjavik isn’t really a large city and there isn’t all that much to see when you’re there, but if there is one thing that every tourist agrees on, its that a visit to the capital city’s iconic Hallgrimskirkja Church should definitely be on your list. The church, which is coincidentally the tallest building in the country is also Iceland’s most iconic structure and has become an image that has become synonymous with Reykjavik, defining the skyline of the capital city.

History

When we talk about the history of churches in Europe, we often think of places of worship that date back hundreds, if not a thousand years. The history of Hallgrímskirkja is much less complex - its actually only a few decades old and its story is easier to tell.

The history of the church starts with its designer, famed state architect Guðjón Samúelsson who played a key role in the urban planning of the Reykjavik and designing several other beautiful buildings throughout the country. Samúelsson, one of the first Icelanders to be formally educated in architecture was known for his genius combination of contemporary architectural styles with traditional Icelandic imagery that were inspired the landscapes and geology of the country.

The legacy created by Samúelsson designs have had a lasting effect on the shape of modern Iceland with many architects following in his footsteps, blending his style of modernism and naturalism into something that is intrinsically Icelandic.

With a collection of buildings already under his belt, Samúelsson was tasked with designing a parish church in the heart of Reykjavik which was envisioned to become the ‘grandest place of worship in the entire country’ and coincidentally also its tallest building.

Designs for the project were commissioned in 1937, but due to the disastrous effects of the Second World War, construction didn’t start until 1945. The delays in construction unfortunately ensured that Samúelsson would never live to see the finished product, which would become his most iconic.

Samúelsson passed away in 1950, five years after construction started, but the project which was completed in stages would ultimately take over four decades to complete.

Stages of Construction

  • 1948 - The crypt, which is beneath the chancel was completed and consecrated.

  • 1974 - The tower and the front wings were completed.

  • 1986 - The nave was completed and the church opened to the public.

  • 1992 - Construction and installation of the massive organ was completed.

Link: Historic Photos show Hallgrimskirkja church under construction 50 years ago.

Hallgrímskirkja opened to the public in 1986 to what would become mixed reviews from locals who considered it an eyesore and thought it far too old-fashioned. In the years since however, the church has become one of the city’s most iconic buildings and locals eventually warmed up to it.

What’s in a name?

I’m sure that the whole time you’ve been reading this, you’ve seen the word “Hallgrímskirkja” pop up and you’ve been thinking to yourself, “How am I supposed to pronounce this?” and “What does it even mean?

Well, I don’t speak Icelandic, so I’m clearly not an authority, but apparently it’s pronounced: “Hal-Grimes-Kirk-Yow” (ˈhatlkrimsˌcɪrca) and translates to “Church of Hallgrímur“ in English.

Don’t take my word for it though, if you really want to solve this linguistic mystery, learn from a pro that speaks the language with this helpful article and video: Iceland with a view - How to Pronounce Icelandic Words.

So who is Hallgrímur?

Hallgrímur Pétursson (1614 - 1674) was a renowned Icelandic poet, politician and clergyman who most notably wrote the “Passíusálmar“ or the “Passion Hymns”, a collection of 50 poems which chronicle the last days of the life of Jesus. The poems are a significant work of Icelandic literature and it has become tradition for them to be read in almost every home (and is broadcast on radio and television) every year during the Easter holidays. One of the Icelandic Lutheran churches most prominent figures, it is only fitting that the most important place of worship in the country be named after him.

In Iceland, the Lutheran Church is known as the Church or Iceland, or the “National Church” (Þjóðkirkjan) and consists of over 300 churches providing a place of worship for its 250,000 members. Interestingly though, even though Hallgrimskirkja is the largest, it is not the headquarters. The Bishop of Iceland lives much more modestly in the much smaller, but more historic Reykjavik Cathedral, which is only a short distance away.

Design

As mentioned above, residents of Reykjavik weren’t really all that thrilled about the design of the church. Even before it was completed, it was considered an “old-fashioned” eyesore that was designed to resemble an already outdated style of architecture.

Eventually they came around and started to see the genius in its design.

The genius in the design of the church cannot be underscored - Not only does it take inspiration from from the basalt columns found at Southern Iceland’s Black Beach and Svartifoss Waterfall, it does so in a way that also evokes an image of both a geyser rising to the heavens and that of the pipes of a church organ.

Once you realize the inspiration for the design and what it represents, you can’t help but respect its genius.

The 74.5 meter (244 ft) tower, which also serves as an observation desk rises high above every other building in the capital city. Its height is actually one of the reasons why people weren’t really too thrilled about it. Similar to the Eiffel Tower in Paris, there are few places you can go in Reykjavik where you won’t catch a glimpse of the church.

The interior, which encompasses 1,676 square meters, is a bit more subdued in its design and truthfully doesn’t really pop out at you like many of Europes other churches do. If you’ve seen the Lord of the Rings films, you might imagine the interior of the church resembling Gondor’s Minas Tirith castle which is also a simple stone hall with very little colour or warmth.

The interior keeps with traditional gothic-style cathedral architecture with large pillars rising up from the walls in order to support an arched ceiling. Staying true to Lutheran tradition which stresses simplicity, you’ll notice that there is a lack of decorations or designs on the walls throughout the interior. The lack of distinct colour or decoration is part of what adds to the feeling that you’re in an ice castle rather than a giant church.

The one feature of the interior of the church that stands out from everything else is the large pipe organ - Installed by the famed German organ designer Johannes Klais, the organ consists of over 5000 pipes, weighs over 25 tons and is 15 meters tall. Completed in 1992, it has become one of Hallgrimskirkja’s most prominent features making the church a popular site for musical performances.

If you visit Hallgrimskirkja and are expecting to see something like some of the other popular places of worship in Europe like Westminster Abbey or Archbasilica of St. John Lateran, you’re sure to be disappointed. The beauty of Hallgrimskirkja however is not for its lavish displays and decorations, but its adherence to traditional design while making it something that is truly Icelandic.

Getting There

 

Address: Hallgrímstorg 101, 101 Reykjavík

The area near the church is part of the popular downtown core of the city where you’ll find the best places to eat, drink and shop. Suffice to say, finding parking can be quite difficult and the church is located near the city’s most expensive parking zone. Keep in mind that parking in the city is scaled based on how close you are to the city centre.

Link: Reykjavik Parking Zones

If you’re not driving and want to make use of Reykjavik’s excellent public transportation system, there are several bus routes that will get you to the church. You’ll need to keep in mind though that the closest bus stops are at least a ten minute walk from the church.

Bus Link: How to get to Hallgrimskirkja by Bus

If you plan to do a bit of exploring around the city, your best bet is probably just to walk to the church. This way you’ll save yourself from getting stuck in traffic, wasting a bunch of time searching for a parking spot and a bunch of money on the parking meters. You’ll also get to enjoy the sights and sounds of this quaint little city and its wonderful people.

Visiting the church is free of charge, but if you’d like to check out the view of the city from the observation tower, you’ll have to pay an admission fee of ISK 1000 ($8.00 USD) to take the lift to the top. You can purchase your tickets in the church shop but the hours for the observation deck can be a bit difficult to understand, so make sure to check the website before going. We unfortunately missed out on the tower on the day we visited due to construction work on the elevator, which was really unfortunate!

Hallgrimskirkja and its popular observation tower are probably the most widely visited tourist destinations with Iceland’s capital city. The iconic church, while not all that old is a spectacular example of Icelandic architecture and is a design that gives a nod to the country’s spectacular landscape.

Most tourists who visit Reykjavik will find spend a bit of time enjoying the church and the amazing 360 degree views from the observation tower, so if you find yourself in the city don’t miss out on the opportunity to visit.