We’re back in beautiful Edinburgh but I will miss lovely Iceland! Our last day was spent sleeping in (I know, I know, but we were super tired!) and then once we’d checked out, we went to Prikið, the oldest coffee house in Iceland, for breakfast. We went for a quick walk along the shore to see the Sólfar sculpture, but it was exceedingly quick because it was raining sideways again!
After two buses, a flight, a tram, and another bus, we are back in our apartment in Leith. It was a thoroughly wonderful week, full of experiences that I will treasure forever. The really touristy things like the Blue Lagoon, the Golden Circle, the Northern Lights, and the beach at Reynisfjara were all brilliant. They are well worth doing! But the other bits, the tiny towns, the Icelandic food, catching up with Jules & Damon and driving through the endless landscape was just as special. My advice to anyone going is to bring more money than you think you will need – it’s not fun to be on a teeny tiny budget in a country this expensive because you tend to be constantly missing out on things. And read Burial Rites before you go! Next time, I plan to do the northern region of the country. And maybe it would be nice to go in summer….
We said goodbye to Jules and Damon and then closed up the AirBnb and left. Our last full day in Reykjavik! We’d booked two beds in a hostel dorm and headed there to store our luggage until we could come back and check-in. Instead, when we got there, the lovely guy at the desk upgraded us to the hotel that’s attached to the hostel, to a lovely private ensuite room which was already ready, so we were able to check-in straight away! It was so unexpected and kind!
I lay down on the bed and immediately wanted to go back to sleep but, we got up instead and went out in search of lunch. Our best friend at the front desk had recommended a place called Cafe Babalu and it did not disappoint – beautiful tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches and a piece of Nutella cheesecake to finish! Thoroughly full, we headed to Hallgrímskirkja, the big tall church in the middle of Reykjavik, for a couple of photos.
Then we went our separate ways – Sean to another thermal pool, and myself to the National Museum of Iceland. This was really interesting and well worth going to see, but I just found it hard to reconcile with the 1500 krona it cost for admission. There are plenty of other just as nice museums around the world that are free! But I did enjoy it, and I also got to see an item of personal interest. Anyone who has read Hannah Kent’s 2013 novel Burial Rites will know the story of Agnes Madnusdottir’s execution, the last execution to take place in Iceland. The axe-head and chopping block used in this execution are on display in the museum. Yes, I’m aware it’s a bit morbid, but it’s a wonderful novel and a very tragic and interesting tale. There was also a badstofa on display, which is a room from the 18th and 19th century farmhouses, like the houses Agnes would have lived in.
Afterwards I had a lovely walk back through Reykjavik, stopping to have a hot chocolate and read when the weather got bad again. Sean and I met up at our hotel and went downstairs for dinner and a couple of drinks, a quick walk, and then Sean headed off again. He’s gone to a pub crawl and I am snuggled up in bed with a book, the television, and wifi. Bliss!
We saw the Northern Lights! They weren’t bright, but they were definitely there. My phone camera couldn’t capture them, so the photos below are from Jules and Damon. It was freezing and quiet and perfect. They show up a bit brighter and greener on the photos than they do to the naked eye, but it was an experience I will never forget.
Breakfast was eggs and skyr, an Icelandic yoghurt-type product that is crazy good. My favourite is the lemony one. We left our nice place in Borgarnes and headed to Arkanes for a quick coffee and a sticky-beak. We then drove to Grindavik for lunch – finally, some fish in Iceland!
Then it was on to the Blue Lagoon! Yes, it’s a tourist-y experience, and yes, it was amazing! It’s not cheap, but the basic fee includes entry, use of a locker, and a silica face mask (bring your own towel!). You can enter through a warm pool that runs from inside to outside, or you can brave the icy air and enter via the door, walking across the icy ground to the pool. It was utterly bizarre and wonderful. It was so misty and foggy that you could not see the opposite end of the lagoon, and when the weather did clear, you could see the mounds of snow on the banks. Meanwhile, you are toasty and warm and comfortable in a pool about 37 degrees Celsius. There is a swim-up bar, also a swim-up kiosk to get your face masks, multiple little bridges and rocky shelves to sit and relax, as well as a waterfall, a steam room, and a sauna. For extra money you can receive in-water treatments including massages and extra things like bathrobes and complimentary drinks, but the basic fee was enough for us. I paid extra for a sparkling strawberry wine and a banana skyr smoothie with the nifty wristband they give you for such transactions. I didn’t bring my phone in, so the following photos are from Jules.
We left the lagoon after a couple of hours, thoroughly tired and possibly a little dehydrated (drink lots of water, guys), and drove back to Reykjavik. While looking for our accommodation, I slipped and fell down a flight of icy steps and felt like an idiot and will have one impressive bruise tomorrow. But we then went out for dinner – a wonderful Japanese chicken salad – and cheap mojitos, so that helped. Reykjavik is beautiful at night!
Tomorrow is our last full day, and Jules and Damon fly to Norway. This week has gone so fast, and our bank accounts are suffering, but it’s been wonderful. One more day to explore Reykjavik!
The airport at Keflavik is bathed in grey light when we finally get off the plane. Julia and Damon have brought the car to collect us – a fantastic luxury – and on the drive back to our accommodation, the darkness grows. There are tantalizing glimpses of the landscape in shadow, but nothing can be seen clearly. The sun doesn’t rise the next morning until 10.52am.
Our accommodation is a tiny cabin made from shipping containers about 20 minutes outside of Reykjavik. The hosts live in the house in front of us, and are warm and welcoming and kind. The place is decorated in coloured scarves, windchimes, dreamcatchers, and fairylights. Huge amounts of artwork line the walls. On the first night, we eat noodles and plan our week.
The next day we are up early and out by 8.15am. The moon is high in the sky and I have never seen darkness like it. Jules and Damon are off on the trip of a lifetime – snorkeling in Silfra National Park between two tectonic plates and then hiking through lava caves – but Sean and I are going to stay in Reykjavik. Breakfast is delicious, in a cosy café. We walk to the old harbor and get caught in the sideways rain, seeking shelter in the maritime museum and in a coffee shop to dry ourselves out. The hot chocolate is dark and bitter and perfect.
We visit a flea market and I find a copy of Peter Pan in Icelandic. One more for the collection! We buy kleinur (a type of Icelandic donut), smoked lamb, and flatbread made with Icelandic moss for our lunch. We walk back down to Tjörnin, the lake in the middle of the city, and see the birdlife. Some are swimming in the small area of thawed water, others walk across the frozen surface. All of them are noisy and greedy for bread.
We walk back to Austurvöllur to meet a walking tour and learn about the Reykjavik Cathedral and Parliament House. There is hardly any security in Iceland – you can walk into the park behind Parliament House and knock on the door and all. They have such a low crime rate – 1.3 murders a year, and 650 policeman in the entire country. We learn about the history of the country under Danish rule and the journey to independence. We walk downtown, through streets of houses made from colourful corrugated iron, then up to Arnarhóll and the statue of Ingólfr Arnarson, the founder of Reykjavik according to the sagas. He named the city Reykjavik – ‘bay of steam’. We end at the Harpa Concert Hall and I have a bacon hot dog with Icelandic mayo on the way back into town. We wait for Jules and Damon at a restaurant, taking advantage of Happy Hour, and then return back for one more night at our arty cabin.
The next morning we move more leisurely and the sun has risen by the time we are packed up and ready to leave. The landscape takes my breath away, and we drive into the country, mountains and valleys and rocks and rivers covered in snow. We take more photos than we should, and stop in Selfoss for a coffee and some groceries and lunch. I buy The Fish Can Sing by Halldor Laxness at a gorgeous bookshop/café called Bokakaffid.
We hit the road again, headed for Seljalandsfoss. This waterfall is enormous, but the weather conditions have made it dangerous for climbing the stairs to get behind the curtain of water. People are doing it anyway, but we realize quickly it is not for us – the smallest bridge is iced over and nigh impossible to climb. We improvise! It’s fun and only a wee bit risky. The sound of the water is deafening.
We drive down the road to the coast, to a ferry terminal named Landeyjahöfn. In better weather, they run a ferry from here to Vestmannaeyjar, an archipelago off the south coast of Iceland. The ferry is not running, but the black sand and crashing waves make for nice photos. Next time I want to take the ferry – Vestmannaeyjar is full of puffin.
It is not a long drive to Reynisfjara, our home for the next night. This place is world-famous for the black sand beach, and our cabin sits on the shore, overlooking the grey line of mist where the sea and sky meet. We trek down to the sand and the surf and take our photos. I cannot believe the sand – fine, coarse, and absolutely pitch black, mixed with snow and smooth black pebbles. This beach is dangerous – more than one tourist has drowned on this coast, dragged out by a freak wave. We stay well back and marvel from afar.
When the sun goes down, we drive into Vik. We find a swimming pool, and, like people who have taken leave of their senses, we change into our bathers and sit in the thermal pool in the middle of a snowstorm. My toes freeze on the dash from the spa to the changing rooms. Other people join us – just tourists, no Icelanders. They are sensible. Inside.
We go to the only restaurant in Vik that is open, and have an absolutely delicious meal – burgers and pizzas with fresh, Icelandic ingredients. A piece of meringue cake to finish, and then we drive back to our beachside cabin, the snowfall getting stronger and stronger as we drive. It is eerie, driving on a dark mountain road with the snow rushing at you. Then, we are home. Snug inside our cabin with some flatbread and hummus and cheese and alcohol. The forecast for the Northern Lights is not great. We will perhaps be lucky another night.