I’m waist-deep in warm water, my face smeared with creamy silica, glass of beer to hand and I’ve been travelling since early morning. So I’m at my most alluring when I bump into a former colleague and his wife in the Blue Lagoon.
Snow is falling softly on the surrounding ebony lava boulders. Ninety minutes in the aquamarine pools of this natural geothermic spa have done much to rinse away the stress of travel; that said, our flight’s only a two-and-a-half-hour hop to this bare and beautiful island that sits on top of the globe and we’ve come straight from the airport for a restorative session of steam, sauna and booze. Iceland, if this is your opening gambit, I’m hooked.
We’re staying in Reykjavík, a 50-minute journey from the airport. Europe’s most northerly capital, it’s a compact, charming city on the sea, and our hotel – Skuggi (keahotels.is) – has a first-rate location on an elegant street which runs parallel to Laugavegur, the city’s main boulevard.
A brace of magnificent monoliths dominates Reykjavík–Hallgrimskirkja and Harpa. The latter – located on the edge of the old harbour area – is the city’s vast concert hall and cultural centre: we feel tiny inside as we sip coffee. By night, iridescent with light, it’s a glittering landmark.
Children will enjoy a stroll to nearby Tjornin, the lake at the centre of town, where swans, eider ducks and greylag geese gather. Follow it with a hot dog from the legendary Baejarins Beztu Pylsur, a small stand operating since 1937.
Hallgrimskirkja is the size of a cathedral, but is a church – and unlike any I’ve ever seen. This eye-catching edifice was designed (by Guðjón Samúelsson, who died before it was completed) to resemble the volcanos for which the island is famous. (Indeed, can anyone forget Eyjafjallajökull and the devastation it wrought in 2010 when it spewed a gigantic cloud of ash and grounded thousands of planes?)
Hexagonal basalt pillars spill down from its lofty spire, and, inside, the pews are turned in both directions to view the altar and the massive 5,275-pipe organ; with minimal decor, no artefacts, and windows (sans stained glass) designed to look out at nature and let the light stream in, it’s a remarkable sacred space.
Hallgrimskirkja was designed by Goujon Samuelsson to resemble the volcanos for which Iceland is famous
I’ve always wanted to visit Iceland and instantly feel I’m somewhere very exciting. There’s an ambience about the place that no money can buy. The second largest island in Europe with a population of 360,000, its appeal lies in its very desolation – endless vistas of fjords, glaciers and mountains untouched by human hand. And it’s incredibly beautiful. Early February and the country is blanketed in snow and – aptly – ice, the sky stippled with washes of palest mauve and salmon cirrus. Even the wind is impossibly picturesque here, pixelated with fluttering snowflakes which skitter across the plains.
If your break is a short one, a tour of the Golden Circle will take in some of the country’s most iconic sites. A heavy storm is anticipated, which rules out a visit to Þingvellir National Park (thingvellir.is). I’d love to have seen this dramatic rift valley (formed from the collision of the North American and Eurasian tectonic plates) where the Vikings conducted their open-air parliament.
However, the next stop along this rich band of southern coastline is Geysir, which does what it says on the tin. We stand attentively at Strokkur – the most reliable of these hot springs – and watch as bubbles start to roil on its surface; a man lets out a sudden roar and it erupts, firing flumes of steamy water into the glacial atmosphere.
Further along, we follow the trail of Sigríður, named in honour of Sigríður Tómasdóttir (1871-1957), the brave woman who fought plans to construct a hydro-electric dam at Gullfoss: Golden Falls – the most famous of the island’s waterfalls, is a stunning double cascade (currently partly frozen) which thunders down a canyon into the Hvitá river.
Gullfoss – Golden Falls – a stunning double cascade which thunders into the Hvita river
One theory has Gullfoss named for Gýgur, a local farmer who filled a coffer with his coins and threw it into the waterfall rather than share it. For this entranced visitor, it’s an aureate moment witnessing the sun glinting off the spray as tons of water roar and a screaming wind whips over fields of ice-encrusted lava.
We thaw out – the cold is Himalayan – in the cafe above the falls. Iceland is notoriously expensive: here a bowl of lamb and vegetable soup (a national delicacy) is €16 – however, it’s served with two bread rolls and the promise of a refill. It is also superb. When I remark to a fellow traveller how pricey Iceland is, she quips, “So’s Ireland!”
Another meal of note – vegetarians please look away now – comprises puffin and whale. The bird is served smoked with seasonal leaves and raspberry vinegar, and the cetacean, like steak (and with similar flavour) with pepper sauce and chips. Tasty, both.
There’ll be no whale watching this trip, but we do see dozens of the beloved Icelandic horses – proud, tough, indomitable – rather like the denizens of this enchanting isle. In common with us, Icelanders are mad about our equine friends. Jules Verne, who cast the country in his novel, Journey to the Centre of the Earth,wrote, “There is no more sagacious animal than the Icelandic horse. He is stopped by neither snow, nor storm, nor impassable roads, nor rocks, glaciers, or anything.”
For a bibliophile, another reason to adore the place is the passion they have for literature. In addition to Jolabokaflod – the Christmas book flood, which started in World War II when a tradition of giving books (paper being one of few commodities not rationed) as gifts was established – they are a nation of avid readers and writers.
Our guide Martina remarks, “We don’t have the castles or the ancient buildings, but we do have the sagas and the myths.”
Their sagas are a mix of two tenets dear to Icelandic hearts – law and poetry – and this, coupled with the desolate but inspiring landscape, fuels this cultivated, artistic country. Pre-departure, I read a couple of contemporary authors – Ragnar Jónasson and Lilja Sigurðardóttir – who both use the backdrop of their homeland’s uncompromising terrain to fashion chilly thrillers about the bad men and women do.
The aurora borealis is on our itinerary, but nature will not be dictated to by the desires of tourists: cloud cover is forecast to obscure the greatest lightshow on earth – so we content ourselves with a specially curated exhibition.
Aurora Reykjavík (aurorareykjavik.is) was built in the old harbour area by a band of young people and is worth a tour in lieu. It’s riveting to learn the science and to read the many myths that have grown up around this extraordinary phenomenon. According to the Chinese, the Northern Lights reflected a celestial battle between good and evil, while in Russian folklore they are associated with the fire dragon who seduced local women while the men went to war.
We cover only the tip of Iceland: so much more remains to be seen, and in summer too. For once, I’m not sad. For sure, I’ll return here one day to see green and blue lights dance over this sublime land of snow and ice, fire and light.
Getting there
Madeleine travelled with the Travel Department: Iceland & the Northern Lights – three nights, from €879pp. Departing March, October, November and December 2022
This fully-guided holiday includes flights, bed and breakfast, transfers and guided excursions that include a half-day tour of Reykjavík, chasing the Northern Lights and full-day tour of the Golden Circle. Four-night tour available from €939pp and departs in March, April and October 2022
Visit traveldepartment.com or call 01 6371633 for more information
