It’s been a shocking two months since I went to Iceland, and only now are things starting to quiet down enough for me to sit down and write about it. But I couldn’t not write about our trip, as Iceland has to be my favourite closeby-but-kind-of-far-away destination to visit.
I first visited Iceland in the summer of 2014, with a group of friends from university. We spent most of our time looking for elusive Arctic foxes, red-necked phalaropes and blue whales in Akureyri and the surrounding north, but we never made it to any of the tourist highlights in the south. And, of course, with the summer sun, there was no chance of seeing the northern lights. In other words, a repeat trip was needed.
This trip was going to be different. We set out in early October, when the winter slowly starts to set in; temperatures drop, and the chance of seeing the Aurora is highest this time of year. I flew straight from London Stansted to Keflavik, which can now often be done for £100 or less.
Our first day in the country’s capital was filled with exploring. The beautiful Hallgrímskirkja stands proudly in the town centre (I say town – Reykjavik feels tiny with its 120,000 inhabitants, despite it being the biggest city and capital). Tim and I headed up in the rickety old lift, and enjoyed incredible views of a somewhat gloomy and sleepy town. The colourful houses and endless amounts of street art do much to brighten the streets, and we enjoyed the pieces ranging from beautiful to political. We enjoyed our first heavily overpriced beers and burgers before heading back to our AirBnB. Tim and I went for an evening walk, and ended up strolling through the Fossvogskirkjugarður cemetery.
The next day we got up early to try and beat the tourists heading to the Golden Circle. The route is famous for its easy access to natural phenomena such as waterfalls and geysers, but can be overcrowded. First on the list was Þingvellir National Park, famous for its political and historical importance and – of course – stunning scenery, which is where we were treated to our first waterfall: Öxaráfoss.
As we headed on, the caffeine craving kicked in and we had to make a stop for some coffee. We found a local converted barn, Efstidalur, where they sold all sorts of dairy products whilst your view showed you the cows that produced said dairy. After this much-needed break, we headed straight to Geysir, where we were suddenly greeted by droves of tourists waiting for the iconic jet of water to launch into the sky. Needless to say, some poor unsuspecting souls got drenched. We continued our journey on the Golden Circle to Gullfoss waterfall. At 32m, it’s a pretty impressive display, and Tim and I took our time experimenting with slow exposures.
Again, hunger hit so we stopped at Friðheimar – a tomato-growing greenhouse with a completely tomato-based menu. It’s worth a visit, but expect to pay for the most expensive tomato soup in your life.
We headed back to Reykjavik via Kerið, a volcanic crater with an impressive array of colours. After a short walk around, we drove back to the AirBnB, getting ready to hit the road early the next day.
The next morning we set off on our roadtrip. We planned to follow Route 1 all around the island. Next stop: Akureyri. This was where I’d been years before and I was eager to see it again. But alas, the town was almost deserted when we got there and it was smaller and quieter than I remembered. We stuck around for a very mediocre meal and resumed our journey the next morning.
The next day was a tough choice: to go whale-watching with an old friend from the previous trip, or head to Lake Mývatn to try a spot of birding and see some of the sights. In the end, the weather decided for us; with forecasted snow, we didn’t want to take the risk of taking a detour via the coast, so we followed Route 1 inland towards Lake Mývatn. A good choice, as it turned out the roads were pretty snowed in! First stop was Goðafoss, or “the waterfall of the gods”, which was freezing cold and drizzly. I remembered it in a much sunnier state when I last visited – it’s amazing to think how different Iceland is depending on the season.
We slowly made our way to the shore of the lake, and after two hours we’d only spotted a few Bewick’s swans and Barrow’s goldeneye, so we headed to Sigureir’s Bird Museum instead. Although quite over-priced, the museum is worth a visit on snowy or rainy days, and it features every bird that has ever been spotted on the island.
Our journey continued, albeit slowly and with the occasional light blizzard, towards the smelliest part of Iceland: Námafjall. The geothermal area is filled with fumaroles and boiling mud pools and the visitors’ area is scattered with warning signs to not fall in, or you will boil alive. Charming. It also smells like dead things are boiling in there, but it is probably the most extraterrestrial experience on this planet.
We continued our trip via the (in)famous Grjótagjá cave, which reached millions with that scene between Ygritte and Jon Snow in Game of Thrones. Although the water inside is now too hot to bathe in, it is still absolutely overrun by tourists, and therefore a bit disappointing.
We finished our journey by driving to Egilsstaðir on the east of the island, where we spent the night in a modern little hotel just out of town. I kept checking every possible northern lights website, but four days into our trip it didn’t look like we were going to get lucky, so I eventually went to bed as the clouds rolled in.
The next morning we were due to leave the snowy highlands for good and head to the fjords of the south coast, but not before making a stop at Iceland’s biggest forest: Hallormsstaðaskógur. This was particularly disappointing to my mother, who had told my sister before leaving that “Iceland doesn’t have any trees.” She stayed in the car to play Candy Crush (role reversal – who is the teenager now?!) whilst Tim and I went for a walk. The autumn colours were stunning and, although we got lost and didn’t follow any particular route, it was a fantastic place with stunning scenery.
The south of Iceland is stunning for driving; windy roads, beautiful beaches and phenomenal sunsets make it a dream for just relaxing with some music in the car (unless you’re the driver, in which case the windy roads and steep cliffs may give you a nervous breakdown). We were headed for Myllulækur, where we were to stay the night. As we stopped by a supermarket to grab supplies for that night’s dinner, I checked the website again, and there it was: 6. Six! A score of six for northern lights! Most people see them at a four or five, so a six meant we were in for a real show. I positively squealed at this, to the embarrassment of my brother, and we rushed to our accommodation to get settled in before dark.
My excitement was not without reason. As soon as twilight hit, Tim and I started setting up our cameras. We had the lights on as we did so, and suddenly it dawned on us we might not see them. As we turned off the living room light, the sky suddenly turned a greenish hue – it had started! And we’d almost missed it! I was beside myself with excitement, but the real show hadn’t even started yet. About 45 minutes later, the sky was dancing with colour. We were staying in a tiny little hut on a wide open plain, and it was the perfect place to see the lights come in over the mountains behind us and head for the ocean. It was one of the most life-changing moments I’ve had, and something I’ll carry with me forever.
Bonus: it’s so cold in Iceland in October, you don’t need ice cubes for your G&T as you’re watching the northern lights on the deck.
We stayed up till way past bedtime, and Tim woke up me again when it looked as though we were in for a second show. Eventually, sleep took us all and we got up early the next day to start the penultimate leg of our journey. This route would take us back towards Reykjavik, and past Jökulsárlón bay, also known as the bay of diamonds. Scattered with icebergs, it’s a gorgeous taste of what Greenland and the Arctic must look like. It’s a shame that, especially in a country as generally pristine as Iceland, the bay is littered with sight-seeing tours using hybrid vehicles, which exhaust so much diesel fumes that some of the icebergs have turned black. We opted out of taking a tour and enjoyed the scenery on foot instead. We even saw a couple of common seals playing in the water.
From the bay we drove on to the Fjaðrárgljúfur Canyon, a beautifully carved out gorge in the middle of the landscape with some remnant wild flowers and viewing platforms hanging over the waterfalls and river. It’s a slippery walk, so boots or other shoes with grip are definitely recommended!
The last stop for the day was Skógafoss: with a drop of 60m it’s pretty impressive, but a raincoat is definitely a necessity. We decided against climbing the 527 steps up to the top, but enjoyed the views from below the waterfall. As the day was coming to a close, we didn’t hang around too long before heading off.
Our accommodation for the night was only down the road, but as we checked in, however, the fun ended. What looked like a spacious room with three beds, was, in fact, a cupboard-sized space with three single beds pushed together – not ideal. We spent a few hours looking for other accommodation, but nowhere was available. So, in the end, I went to bed as early as I physically could, ready to enjoy the final leg of our trip.
Our last full day started by doubling back on ourselves – we had managed to miss Reynisfjara beach the day before. The beach is famous for the enormous basalt stacks and caves that line the beach, as well as its dangerous swells that have been known to kill unsuspecting tourists. The cliffs are lined with nesting Northern fulmars, flying in from the Atlantic Ocean to rest on the precarious edges. Mum had a melt-down as Tim went to close to the “murderous waves”, so as it started raining as well, we headed back to the car and drove towards Reykjavik.
We stopped for lunch at a quaint little restaurant on the side of the road, which served mint and rhubarb jam (not recommended) as well as hot chocolates (recommended). Not long after, we arrived back in Reykjavik for a final attempt at finding affordable souvenirs (spoiler: this is impossible) and a last meal at a great pub in the city.
Our final AirBnB was close to the airport – a lovely apartment on the outskirts of Keflavik. Tim and I attempted to finish the copious amounts of alcohol we had bought on our way in at Duty Free, and we all packed our bags. The next morning, we went our separate ways; as the flight to Amsterdam took off, I was boarding mine to Stansted. Another year, another great trip. Iceland’s a fantastic destination, and it can be done on a budget if you plan it well. Happy travels!
Faye Vogely 