Two eleven year old girls trek up hill through rugged Arctic tundra. It's late summer nineteen thirty two in Iceland. The girls, Nana and Carolina, have hiked for hours from their homes in ascar Strunt in ayre Furture, close to the northern Icelandic coast, on the hunt for wild bilberries. Together they continue up the valley, climbing high above the river,
and it's there that Carolina sees them. Two bedsheets spread out over the grass and moss, both away down, with rocks, one in each corner and a fifth in the middle to stop the wind blowing them away. The weather is sunny and breezy, a perfect day for drying laundry, Only there's no house or hut anywhere nearby where someone with laundry might live. Wondering if she's seeing things, Carolina asks Nana if she can see them too. Oh, yes, she replies,
I see them all the time, really, says Carolina. Yes they belong to the elves that live nearby, replies Nana, and with that she skips on ahead. I'm sure if Nana is playing some kind of trick on her or not. Carolina decides to leave it at that and trudges on after her. The girls hike higher into the valley until finally they find what they're looking for, endless bushes of dark, ripe bilberries. A couple of hours later, with their baskets full, they make their way back down the way they came.
But when they get back to where the bed sheets were, the sheets are gone. See, said Nana. The elves must have taken them back home. Carolina lived until the age of ninety one. Though this was the only time she claimed to have ever witnessed evidence of elves, she never forgot that day, and she stood by her account of it right up until the day she died. You're listening
to Unexplained, and I'm Richard McLean Smith. Iceland's position just south of the Arctic Circle, with its long nights of unbroken winter darkness, is dominated by the primal forces of ice and snow. Wondrous displays of the northern lights regularly flicker over landscapes dotted with volcanoes and twisted rock thickly
covered in moss. It's an environment that exerts a strong pull on the psyche, and Icelandic folklore is rich with stories of the supernatural of ghosts and trolls, and most of all elves known in Iceland as the Huldefolk or hidden folk. Icelandic elves have a nature all their own. They bear no resemblance to Santa Claus's diminutive little helpers from Christmas stories or the tall ethereal and point eared
immortals that feature in J. R. R. Tolkien's tales. Icelandic elves are mostly described as being from around one foot high to the size of a typical seven year old child. One nineteenth century Icelandic source states the only visible difference between humans and human sized hidden folk is in the vertical groove between the base of the nose and the top of the upper lip, known as the filtrum. In elves, that groove is said to be convex rather than concave
as it is in humans. The elves are said to live in certain rocks and cliffs, which many local people consider to be enchanted places, and often paint doors there or set up tiny houses in their gardens for elves to live in. Icelandic lore maintains that the hidden folk inhabit a parallel universe, remaining invisible to humans most of
the time, rarely allowing themselves to be seen. When they do become visible, they are said to look and behave very much like humans, keeping live stock, cutting hay, rowing boats, going fishing, and picking berries, even going to church on Sundays. It's said that the best times to see an elf are on New Year's Eve, a night when bonfires are lit a across the country, and when the elves are rumored to move their residence from one rock or hillside
to another. The other time it's Midsummer's night, when, according to local law, if you sit at a crossroads where all four roads lead to separate churches, an elf will try to seduce you with gifts. Accept those gifts and you will go mad. Resist the temptation, and your wishes will come true. The hidden folk are said to be harmless if you leave them alone, but woe betide anyone
who disturbs or destroys an Elvish home. If an Elvish dwelling is disrupted, the elves will get angry and may cause great harm to those who disturb them, or so the legend goes. In the summer of nineteen seventy one, a workman operating a bulldozer to move a pile of rocks on the outskirts of Reykvik, Iceland's capital, accidentally broke some pipelines, destroying the excavator in the process. The workmen
had only one explanation for the mishap. Clearly, the rocks were home to a community of elves who'd become angered by the disturbance. It was they, not his incompetence, that
had caused the accident. Elsewhere in the northern part of the country, around the same time, the Icelandic Road Administration was considering smoothing out another piece of road where it crossed an uneven boulder field known locally as the Trolls Pass, But when local residents, including some self described elf seers, told them that supernatural beings resided in rocks beneath the pass,
the agency were convinced not to blow it up. It is said that this placated the elves, and that no road accidents have occurred at or near the pass ever since. The road remains uneven to this day. In the autumn of nineteen eighty six, the story of Iceland's fiendish and feisty elves began to spread more widely when their apparent existence was inadvertently brought to the attention of the international media. That year, a summit took place between the United States
and the Soviet Union. Then U S President Ronald Reagan and General Secretary of the Communist Party of Soviet Union Mikhail Gorbachev had met in Geneva, Switzerland, the previous year. After months of delay, it was finally agreed that the two men should meet again in politically neutral Reykovic, Symbolic, located more or less half way between the two world powers. The main topic of debate was the issue of nuclear disarmament, and as the Many summit proceeded, the two leaders agreed
on more than they disagreed, with relations relatively amicable. Foreign journalists who had converged on Iceland's capital from all over the world became restless for a major news story. Before long, they were alerted to the fact that many Icelanders were said to believe in elves. The journalists pounced on Arnie Bejernsen,
director of the Ethnological Department of the National Museum of Iceland. Beyonsen, who didn't believe in elves himself, was overwhelmed with the reporter's questions, keen not to offend any of his fellow Icelanders. Bejonsen offered a nuanced response to the reporters that ultimately fell on deaf ears, and so the supposed existence of
Icelandic elves became an international story for Icelanders. The fact that many of them believed in elves, or rather were unwilling to dismiss the possibility that they exist, was old news. The phenomenon had been examined by an Icelandic academic back in the nineteen seventies. Just a couple of years after that bulldozer operator claimed elves had ruined his dig ellan der.
Haraldson was working as a research associate at the American Society for Psychical Research when in nineteen seventy three he became a faculty member at the University of Iceland. Ostensibly a professor of psychology on the Faculty of Social Science, Haroldson published in various psychology and psychiatry journals, but the learned professor had another interest less acceptable to mainstream academia,
and that was in paras psychology. Haroldson wrote a number of books, including one titled in English that Departed Among the Living, in which he described surveys and follow up investigations that he conducted into alleged apparitions and related phenomena in Iceland. In nineteen seventy four, he carried out a survey of Icelandic religious and folk beliefs. The results were striking.
Fifteen percent of respondents said they thought it very likely that elves existed, another seven percent were certain of this, and five percent claimed to have even seen one. Overall, roughly a third of Haroldson's survey respondents entertained the possibility that hidden folk exist. Subsequent surveys have consistently confirmed Professor
Haroldson's findings. When a church historian questioned people with a professed interest in mysticism, seventy percent believed that elves existed, while only forty three percent thought that space aliens had visited Earth. In nineteen ninety eight, while polling its readers on aspects of politics and government, an Icelandic newspaper slipped a sneaky extra yes or no question into their survey.
The question inevitably was do you believe in elves? Of the ninety percent of people who completed the survey, fifty four percent of them replied yes. In two thousand and seven, researchers at the University of Iceland's Department of Folkloristics decided to Readminister Professor Horoldson's nineteen seventy four survey. The new survey results were, if anything, even more emphatic than what
Harold and found in his original study. While only two percent of respondents claimed to have seen a UFO, five percent again said they'd seen an elf, but fifty percent said they were open to the possibility that elves exist. If you arrive in Iceland today, there are numerous locations to visit where elves are said to reside. One of the most well known is the Elfstone in gryotfofv Rekvik's oldest neighborhood, and like many such stones in Iceland, it
has many strange stories attached to it. One such story is that when the city was expanding, it said that builders wanted to move the large rock to make way for a house. They tried numerous methods to do it. The rock still bears the marks from their various removal attempts, but nothing the builders tried would shift it. In the end.
A woman said to be able to see and speak with elves was called in after supposedly making contact with them, she confirmed that the rock was in fact home to some elves, but they would be willing to let it be moved if they were given a week to prepare and if the rock was relocated closer to the city center. The conditions were agreed, and a week later the giant stone was apparently moved without any further trouble. Then, in twenty thirteen, another crop of Elviy stones, located ten minutes
outside Reykievic, became the center of national intrigue. The lava field known as Galcaroun is where two liquid lava waves once clashed. As they cooled, they froze into dark, contorted shapes, which, if you squinch your eyes just right, looked like a scattering of weird and grotesque creatures just waiting to emerge
from a deep and ancient slumber. In twenty thirteen, a new road project was instigated by the Icelandic Road and Coastal Administration along with the nearby municipality of Caravabiche, to provide a more direct route between the capitol and the tip of the alf Tenesh Peninsula, where just over two and a half thousand people live. In picturesque hamlets of
red roofed homes. The plan was to raise a path right through the lava flow to make way for a new two lane road, a plan that some believed would have dire consequences. When the new road was announced in twenty thirteen, a group of Icelanders known as the Friends of the Lava aghast at the planned construction started a protest, camping out in makeshift tents and shelters among the gnarled
black volcanic rocks. They claimed that building the planned road would not only destroy some beautiful lava formations, but also a habitat for birds and small plants. One protester, however, was concerned about more than the tangible visible environment. Ragnhilda Jonsdotte, a bespectacled, middle aged woman with a kindly face, long graying hair, and typically dressed in several layers of sensible woolen scarves and sweaters, is a self described elf seer.
She was convinced that the lava field was densely populated not only by hidden folk, but also by dwarves, another folkloric creature said to live in the region. Unmoved by these arguments, as standoff ensued between the protesters and the Icelandic Road Administration and their bulldozer crews. Yon's Dotter and the other protesters were eventually arrested forcibly, removed from the
site and for a short time jailed. But unwilling to give in, Yon's Dotter wrote a letter speaking on behalf of the elves to the mayor of the local town and all its council members, as well as to Iceland's president and several ministers in the Icelandic Parliament. Soon the international media got wind of the story. Potentially facing an international publicity disaster, the Icelandic Supreme Court decided to halt the road construction, citing not just environmental and cultural reasons,
but also the impact on elves. Eager to find some kind of resolution, the local town officials and two representatives of the road administration asked Yon's Dotter for her guidance on how they might get around the issue of the elves. Yon's Dootter took them on an ELF walk around the proposed construction site. There she pointed out the key landmarks, including one large rock which she claimed was in fact an ELF church, and another smaller rock which she described
as a kind of chapel. In the end, the road was built, but in accordance with what Yon'sdotter said were the wishes of the elves. The highway was narrowed where it passes the Elf church to avoid impinging on it, and a large crane was used to move the seventy five ton Elf chapel out of the path of the highway. Yon's Dotter was reported as saying that the elves were satisfied with the compromises and would no longer block the
road's construction. Despite assuming the role as the key mediator between the elves and the authorities, Yonsdotter still struggled with the development. As the workers began plowing through the lava, she was seen screaming and crying as one after another rock was bulldozed out of the way, looking for all the world, as if it were her own home that
was being demolished. Early in the morning of the twenty eighth of August twenty fifteen, sven and zokon Nierson, owner of a construction and roadwork company on the north coast of Iceland, was enjoying a cup of coffee when he received a call from the police. They told him that his services were required urgently. One of the local roads running along a narrow fjord, had become blocked at a
place called kavannera stunt. The area had been experiencing unusually heavy rainfall, which triggered a large MUDs light onto a road into siglaf Fjurdiga, a small fishing town of about thirteen hundred inhabitants. When Svenna and some of his workers arrived at the site, they couldn't believe their eyes. The road was covered by around twelve thousand cubic meters of muddy slurry that had washed down from the hillside above.
The crew immediately began clearing debris off the road with heavy equipment, dumping it on the slope below, including on top of an unusually large rock part way down the slope. The rock, unknown to the workers, was known locally as alf Conistone or the elf Lady's Stone, and was reputed to be inhabited by elves. No sooner had it been covered by debris, events took a turn for the worse. First, one worker fell and hurt himself badly, leaving him unable
to work for se several days. Even when the rest of the team wanted to resume excavations, the weather became so bad they had to suspend operations indefinitely. Then a nearby river flooded over not just that road, but another road in town. Arriving with its bulldozer at the site of the second mud slight, Svenna had just climbed into the vehicle when he saw another mud slight coming straight
toward him as it roared down the hillside. Savenna jumped out just in time as the mud slide crashed into the flooding river, sending an explosion of muddy water and rocks in all directions. The next day, the rain had abated, so Svenna and his crew resume clearing the road close to the Lady Elfstone. That afternoon, their main bulldozer broke down,
causing them to stop work yet again. Only then did it occur to someone that it might not have been a good idea to shovel the debris onto the supposedly enchanted rock. Meanwhile, a reporter from a national TV network arrived to cover the unfolding story. When he attempted to climb up the Elf Lady's Stone to shoot some footage, he slipped and sank into a pit of mud up to his waist and had to be rescued. It was then the local council decided to remove all the debris
covering the stone, and then power hosed it clean. Over the next ten days, the road was cleared and repaired without further incident. The belief that misfortune falls on those who try to build in Elf territory is now so widespread that today the Icelandic Road and Coastal Administration as a five page standard reply for press inquiries about the issue. The administration refuses to say whether its own employees believe
in the hidden folk. However, it does say that it values the heritage of the ancestors and that of oral traditions. Say that a certain location is cursed, or that supernatural beings inhabit a certain rock, then quote this must be considered a cultural treasure. Some Icelanders see elves as a reminder of simpler times before cities, industry, and other developments
began leaving a permanent imprint on the island. Alaric Hall, a lecturer at the University of Leeds whose researched medieval beliefs, has argued that Iceland's elves were actually invented by the earliest Viking settlers. According to Hall, when they arrived there in the eight hundred and seventies, they didn't encounter any indigenous people, so to feel like true conquerors, they made
them up in the form of elves. Professor Hawker Ingi Yonisen of Raykovic University rites that elves are a ritualistic attempt to place significance on Iceland's many mountains, hills and rivers as a way of imbuing the landscape with extra worth in a place so at the mercy of erupting volcanoes, shifting glaciers and shaking ground. Magnus Scapyardincent has been running the Elf School in Raykovic for over thirty years, Operating out of a living room packed with books and elf figurines.
Students are taught about elves as well as gnomes, dwarfs, fairies, trolls and nature spirits, including where they live, what they look like, their ideas about humans, and the other dimensions that elves are said to live in. Magnus claims to have met more than nine hundred Icelanders, as well as five hundred foreigners from forty countries. Who have seen elves. Of those, three hundred and eighty say that they have talked with elves, while sixty odd claimed to have had
a lifetime friendship with an elf. Around fifteen of these told Magnus that they'd even been invited into elf houses in another dimension. He asked them what the elves said to them. Invariably, they replied that the Hidden folk were concerned about the environment, pollution and global warming. They told the people, you have to stop destroying the atmosphere. You will kill yourself and you will kill us and all
of the other dimensions too. When writer Mary Anne Eloise made a visit to Iceland in twenty twenty two, she was skeptical about tales of the Hidden Folk. After a few hectic days traveling around the country, she decided to wind down by visiting a quiet park in Half near Fjordida on the southwest coast. Although it was said to be home to some elves, she found the location a
quiet and low key tourist trap. It did have a scattering of tiny, human built elf houses and a gift shop selling vials of what were labeled as elf dust, but the only other visitors she saw were a few Icelandic families. As Eloise explored the broken surfaces of the lava flow. There, she peered down a crack in the dark twisted volcanic rocks. There she saw a thick, hard, and layer of clear slime which appeared to be colored like a rainbow. It made her think of elves placing
a flower at the spot. She inwardly thanked the elves for the peace and quiet she was experiencing, and then left. As it turned out, someone had surreptitiously taken a photo of Eloise at the exact moment she settled by that break in the rock. In the image, despite the fact it hadn't been raining. As Eloise is seen crouched down staring into the gap, she is encased entirely within a rainbow.
Relating the incident to an Icelandic professor. Later on, Eloise was told that she'd just had an encounter with the elves and that what she'd seen was elf slime. The professor left her with a stern warning, do not follow the elves, no matter what they offer. This episode was written by Diane Hope and produced by Richard mc lean Smith. Unexplained is an Avy Club Productions podcast created by Richard mc lean smith. All other elements of the podcast, including
the music, were also produced by me Richard mc lean smith. Unexplained. The book and audiobook, with stories never before featured on the show, is now available to buy world wide. You can purchase from Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Waterstones, and other bookstores. Please subscribe to and rate the show wherever you get your podcasts, and feel free to get in touch with any thoughts or ideas regarding the stories you've heard on the show. Perhaps you have an explanation of your own
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