Þingvellir National Park is Iceland's most historically significant and geologically dramatic landscape where tectonic plates divide and Viking-age democracy was born over a thousand years ago.
Iceland: Two day itinerary
🌋 Iceland: Born of Fire and Ice
Set in the far northern reaches of the Atlantic Ocean, roughly halfway between mainland Europe and North America, Iceland is one of those places that genuinely stops you in your tracks. Our first impression, if we’re being honest, was that it looked extraordinarily cold and barren — not exactly the sort of thing that makes you want to leap off the plane with wild enthusiasm. And yet, beneath that stark, wind-battered exterior lies a country absolutely bursting with life. That, as it turns out, is where its true beauty hides.
🗺️ A Land That Is Still Being Made
Iceland was essentially created by volcanoes, and it hasn’t finished yet. The island sits directly on the Mid-Atlantic Ridge, the boundary between the North American and Eurasian tectonic plates, which means the ground here is still very much doing its thing — erupting, shifting, steaming, and generally being rather dramatic about the whole business. There are around 130 volcanic mountains on the island, and roughly 30 of them have erupted since humans first turned up.
⚓ The First Arrivals
Speaking of which, the first confirmed settlement dates back to 874 AD. That was when a Norwegian chieftain named Ingólfr Arnarson pitched up on the south-western coast and rather sensibly decided to stay. He was followed fairly swiftly by other Norse settlers, and then by Gaelic-Norse migrants from Scotland and Ireland, who arrived largely as slaves or servants — not, one imagines, entirely of their own free will.
By 930 AD, the settlers had established the Althing, one of the world’s oldest parliaments, which met annually at Þingvellir — a rather spectacular natural amphitheatre formed by the very same tectonic rift that had created the island in the first place. You have to admire a people who found time to invent democracy whilst also trying not to fall into a volcano.
👥 A Small Nation in a Big Landscape
Today, Iceland has a population of around 360,000 people spread across 103,000 square kilometres — that’s about 40,000 square miles, for those of us still working in old money. That makes it the most sparsely populated country in Europe, which gives you some idea of quite how much empty, spectacular, occasionally terrifying landscape there is to go around. Of those 360,000 souls, roughly two-thirds live in and around Reykjavík, the capital, which sits on the south-western peninsula and is, by some margin, the world’s most northerly capital city.
✈️ Two Days That Felt Like Too Few
We visited Iceland on our way through to Europe, squeezing in a couple of days to have a proper look around. It was, without question, two of the most fascinating days we spent on the entire trip. I only wish we had managed to stay a bit longer — though I suspect no amount of time would ever feel quite enough.
🧊 A Two-Day Itinerary: Iceland’s Golden Circle and South Coast
Places visited:
- Reykjavik
- Þingvellir
- Haukadalur
- Gullfoss
- Seljalandsfoss
- Jökulsárlón Lagoon
✈️ Arrival: Reykjavik — The Land of the Midnight Sun (and Zero Sleep)
We touched down in Reykjavik late in the evening — which, of course, in early July means nothing of the sort in Iceland. It was still broad daylight. Not that half-light you get on a long summer evening back home, but proper, full-on, where-has-the-night-gone daylight. Iceland sits just below the Arctic Circle, and in early July, just days after the summer solstice on the 21st of June, the sun barely troubles itself with setting at all. You get perhaps a vague dimming around midnight — a sort of atmospheric shrug — before it’s back up again, cheerful as ever, as if sleep were a concept invented by lesser nations.
The transfer from Keflavík International Airport — which is, amusingly, about 50 kilometres from Reykjavik, a bit like calling Luton a London airport — took us around 45 minutes. Our apartment was small, but it was perfectly formed, as they say. Clean, functional, exactly what you need when you’ve just spent hours in a pressurised tin tube crossing the North Atlantic.
We were absolutely dog-tired, so we retired with every intention of a solid night’s sleep. Unfortunately, that wasn’t quite how it played out. I lay there tossing and turning for what felt like most of the night — partly the light (those blackout curtains were doing their best but were clearly outmatched), and partly because we had some rather significant, life-changing decisions weighing on our minds. You know the sort. The kind that sit there in the dark and refuse to be ignored, no matter how firmly you close your eyes.
🗓️ Day One: Reykjavik and Þingvellir
🏙️ Reykjavik — A Capital City With Ambitions Above Its Station (in the Best Possible Way)
After a fitful night that could charitably be called sleep, we were ravenous — for food and, once we’d had some caffeine, for exploration. We found a coffee shop without too much difficulty and proceeded to spend what felt like a small fortune on coffee, hot chocolate and pastries. And here is where we had our first proper encounter with Icelandic economics: things are extraordinarily, almost eye-wateringly expensive. Iceland consistently ranks as one of the most costly countries in the world for visitors, and having just experienced it first-hand, we can confirm the rankings are absolutely accurate.
Reykjavik itself is a genuinely interesting place — a modern, forward-thinking city that punches well above its weight. Founded in 874 AD by Norse settler Ingólfr Arnarson, it is today a thriving, progressive capital. The population of Iceland is only around 320,000 people, making it the 177th largest country in the world by population. Iceland is roughly the size of Kentucky, with only about half the population of Wyoming — the least populous state in the entire United States. In other words, there’s a very great deal of Iceland and not very many Icelanders.
After breakfast, the next order of business was collecting our rental car. This was the moment our Icelandic adventure properly began.
🏛️ 1. Þingvellir National Park — Where History Meets Geology in the Most Dramatic Fashion Imaginable
About 40 kilometres east of Reykjavik lies Þingvellir National Park — pronounced, if you’re wondering, as Thingvellir, because Þ is the Old Norse letter thorn, which makes a ‘th’ sound and which we rather sensibly abandoned in English sometime around the 15th century. The name comes from the Old Norse Þingvǫllr: þing meaning ‘thing’ or ‘assembly’, and vǫllr meaning ‘field’ — so, assembly fields. Which is exactly what it was.
Þingvellir is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, and it deserves every syllable of that designation. It is a place of extraordinary historical, cultural, and geological significance, and one of the most visited destinations in Iceland. We were far from alone.
The historical importance of the site is staggering. This is where the Alþingi — the Icelandic parliament, one of the oldest in the world — was established in 930 AD. For nearly three centuries during the Icelandic Commonwealth period (930–1262 AD), chieftains and followers from across the country gathered here every summer for two weeks, sometimes numbering in the thousands. They came to settle disputes, pass laws, trade goods, and do the sort of political horse-trading that politicians have been doing ever since, presumably. People who made the journey set up temporary settlements of turf-walled dwellings with makeshift roofing — essentially a pop-up city in the Icelandic wilderness, once a year.
At the heart of it all was the Lögberg — the Law Rock — a natural rocky outcrop that served as the focal point of the assembly and a platform for public speeches. The Lögsögumaðr, or Law Speaker, would stand here and recite the laws of the land from memory, which is either impressive or alarming depending on how you feel about politicians and the law.
Þingvellir sits in a rift valley on the boundary between the North American and Eurasian tectonic plates — two great slabs of the Earth’s crust slowly drifting apart at around 2.5 centimetres per year. The evidence is visible in the dramatic cracks and faults that cut across the landscape. The largest of these, Almannagjá, is a genuine canyon running through the valley floor — standing at its edge, it’s difficult not to feel rather small. The same tectonic activity makes the region prone to earthquakes, which adds a certain frisson of excitement to proceedings.
Despite it being early July — the height of the Icelandic summer — it was absolutely freezing. Genuinely, teeth-chatteringly cold. A week or so before, we had been baking in the deserts of Death Valley in California, where temperatures routinely top 45°C. The contrast was, to put it mildly, bracing. We had packed warm clothing — hats, gloves, fleeces, the works — and we were grateful for every layer. Though even then, it didn’t quite feel like enough.
🌋 2. The Golden Circle – Haukadalur
From Þingvellir we pressed on to complete the rest of the Golden Circle, which is essentially Iceland’s greatest hits tour served up in a single day. The next stop was Haukadalur, a geothermal valley sitting roughly 60 kilometres east of the national park — and quite possibly the smelliest place we have ever voluntarily paid to visit.
Haukadalur is home to two rather famous geysers: Geysir and Strokkur. And yes, that first one is where the word “geyser” actually comes from. Every English speaker who has ever said the word owes a small debt of gratitude to this particular patch of Icelandic ground. Geysir has been doing its thing — or rather, the thing that gave it its name — since at least the 12th century, when it was first recorded in the Icelandic sagas. At its peak it reportedly hurled boiling water up to 170 metres into the air, which frankly sounds made up, but Iceland does have a flair for the dramatic.
The whole area is properly otherworldly. The Earth here doesn’t just sit there quietly minding its own business like it does back home. It churns and hisses and gurgles, pushing boiling water up through vents in the ground, surrounded by bubbling mud pools, fumaroles belching steam, and vivid mineral deposits stained every shade of orange, yellow and rust. And the smell — oh, the smell. Rotten eggs, but warm and damp. It is the sort of aroma that makes you question every life choice that led you to this precise moment.
The original Geysir, sadly, no longer performs. A series of earthquakes over the years effectively retired it, the most significant being the quake of 2000, which temporarily woke it up again before it thought better of it and went back to sleep. It hasn’t erupted reliably since around 1916, which gives you a sense of the timescales Iceland operates on.
Fortunately, its neighbour Strokkur picked up the slack. Every eight to ten minutes or so, Strokkur does its party trick — a great column of scalding water shooting roughly 30 metres (that’s about 100 feet for those of us who still think in old money) straight up into the air. We stood there like proper tourists, cameras raised, waiting for it to go off. It did not disappoint. There is something viscerally satisfying about watching the Earth explode right in front of you, even if you are standing in a crowd of other people in waterproof jackets doing exactly the same thing.
Haukadalur also has a gift shop and a restaurant, where we warmed ourselves up with hot soup and briefly considered buying a small Viking figurine before coming to our senses.
💧 3. The Golden Circle – Gullfoss
We arrived at Gullfoss — which translates, rather unimaginatively but accurately, as “Golden Falls” — and honestly, no photograph had quite prepared us for it. The mighty Hvítá river, which has been thundering down from the Langjökull glacier some 60 kilometres to the north, suddenly runs out of patience and hurls itself into a ravine with what can only be described as spectacular bad temper.
This is not a delicate, picturesque trickle. The Hvítá is wide, fast, and extremely serious about where it’s going. It sweeps around a sharp bend and then drops a full 100 feet — roughly 32 metres, if you prefer — in two dramatic stages into a narrow basalt canyon below. In summer, an average of around 140 cubic metres of water per second goes over the edge. To put that in some kind of perspective, that’s roughly 28 bathtubs-worth every single second. It adds up.
Gullfoss has been part of the Icelandic national consciousness for a very long time. The falls sit on land that was farmed continuously from the age of settlement in the ninth century. In the early twentieth century, a British entrepreneur by the name of Elliot rather optimistically tried to lease the falls to generate hydroelectric power, which would, of course, have destroyed them entirely. A local farmer’s daughter named Sigríður Tómasdóttir — who is now something of a national hero — reportedly threatened to throw herself into the falls if the deal went ahead. Whether that actually stopped it, or whether the financing simply collapsed, historians still argue about, but either way, the falls survived. Sigríður walked barefoot to Reykjavík, some 120 kilometres away, on more than one occasion to protest the plan. The Icelanders eventually got the land back, and Gullfoss became a protected nature reserve in 1979. Good outcome all round, though one suspects the barefoot walking was wholly unnecessary.
We descended a long staircase from the car park — the car park being of the enormous, heaving, tourist-coach variety that tells you everything about how popular this place has become — and made our way along a concrete pathway that runs right along the edge of the gorge. You can get quite close to the falls, which is either thrilling or terrifying depending on your disposition.
The wind was absolutely something else. A waterproof jacket was not merely advisable but practically mandatory unless you wanted to spend the rest of the day looking like you’d lost a fight with a garden hose. The spray from the falls carried a considerable distance, and the combination of mist, wind and the sheer noise of the thing made it feel properly elemental. The kind of place that makes you feel small in the best possible way, which is saying something when you’ve spent the morning plodding around geysers with several hundred other people in matching cagoules.
The scenery, it has to be said, was genuinely dramatic. The gorge itself is around 70 metres deep and was carved out by glacial floodwaters during the last Ice Age, around 10,000 years ago, give or take. Rainbows appeared and disappeared in the mist with pleasing regularity — the kind of natural light show that Instagram was invented for, though we managed to restrain ourselves to only four or five photographs. Each. It’s not surprising that Gullfoss is regularly cited as one of Iceland’s most popular and most-visited natural attractions. It absolutely earns the title.
Day 2: Seljalandsfoss and Jökulsárlón lagoon
🌊 Our Last Full Day: Chasing Glaciers Across Iceland
For our last full day in Iceland, we decided to make a proper go of it and head east from Reykjavík towards the coast. Now, “east” in Iceland is a slightly misleading concept. On a map it looks perfectly straightforward — just nip along Route 1 and you’re there. What the map doesn’t tell you is that Route 1, Iceland’s famous Ring Road, is not exactly the M25. It winds, it narrows, it occasionally becomes what a generous person might call “rustic,” and the scenery is so relentlessly dramatic that you spend half the time gawping out of the window instead of watching the road. Our destination was the Jökulsárlón glacial lagoon, where enormous chunks of ice calve off the Breiðamerkurjökull glacier and float serenely out into the Atlantic, looking magnificent and entirely indifferent to the tourists photographing them.
It was going to be a long day. Iceland is not a large country — it’s roughly the size of Kentucky — but getting anywhere takes considerably longer than you’d expect. Something to do with the roads, the weather, and the general sense that Iceland operates on its own schedule and is entirely unbothered by yours.
💧 Seljalandsfoss — Getting Thoroughly Wet for Art
About an hour and a half southeast of Reykjavík, still making our way along the southern coast on Route 1, we pulled over at Seljalandsfoss. You can’t really miss it. There it is, a great curtain of white water plunging 197 feet — that’s around 60 metres for those of us who grew up metric but still think in feet when something is genuinely tall — straight down into a wide, mist-filled pool below. It’s one of those waterfalls that makes you stop the car without quite deciding to.
Seljalandsfoss is fed by the Seljalandsá river, which in turn is supplied by meltwater from the Eyjafjallajökull glacier sitting up on the plateau above — yes, that Eyjafjallajökull, the one that erupted in April 2010 and single-handedly taught the world’s news presenters a lesson in Icelandic pronunciation they’d rather forget. The falls themselves have been drawing visitors for generations, though it’s fair to say the Instagram era has rather increased the footfall.
What makes Seljalandsfoss genuinely unusual — and the reason the car park was already half full despite the early hour — is that you can walk behind it. There’s a trail that curves around behind the falling water, taking you through a shallow cave carved out of the volcanic rock face over thousands of years. It’s magical, in a wet, slightly alarming sort of way. The mist is relentless and the path is slippery enough that you spend most of it concentrating very hard on not going arse-over-teakettle into the pool. We managed it. Just.
We were, predictably, soaked. Waterproof jackets proved to be aspirationally rather than literally waterproof, as they so often do in Iceland. But standing behind a 197-foot waterfall, looking out through the falling water at the green Icelandic valley beyond, is one of those experiences that makes you briefly forget you’re cold, damp, and haven’t had a proper cup of tea since Reykjavík. Briefly.
🧊 2. Ice, Icebergs, and an Overpriced Hot Chocolate
We rolled up to the Jökulsárlón glacier lagoon around lunchtime — which, if you’ve never tried to pronounce that word, sounds roughly like someone sneezing whilst simultaneously gargling. Jökulsárlón sits in southeast Iceland, right where the Breiðamerkurjökull glacier — one of the many tongues of the vast Vatnajökull ice cap — calves enormous chunks of ice directly into a tidal lagoon that drains out to sea. The place has been around in its current form since the 1930s, though the lagoon has been steadily growing as the glacier retreats, which is either a miracle of natural beauty or a deeply alarming climate metaphor, depending on your mood.
We booked ourselves onto a duck tour — an amphibious vehicle, for those who haven’t encountered one of these magnificent bits of Second World War-era engineering repurposed for baffled tourists. There was a bit of a wait, which we were only too pleased to fill by retreating into the confines of the café. It was basic, as cafés in the middle of the Icelandic wilderness tend to be, but it was warm, and the hot chocolate was precisely the sort of hot chocolate you need when standing on the edge of a glacier. Expensive, obviously, but we were past caring.
When our turn finally arrived, we pulled on our life vests — always a reassuring start — and clambered aboard. What followed was, and I don’t use this word lightly, genuinely inspiring. We nosed our way through the frigid waters among icebergs the size of small office blocks, some of them a brilliant translucent blue, others a deep gunmetal grey, the light doing extraordinary things as it passed through the ice and reflected off the surface of the lagoon. Even on a grey and overcast day — and Iceland specialises in grey and overcast days — the colours were remarkable.
All too soon, it was time to haul ourselves back to Reykjavík. Which is a three-hour drive. In a hire car. After several days of relentless sightseeing. But that, as they say, is another story.
In summary …
- Iceland is a small country and can be easily explored in 2 or 3 days.
- Probably the best way to explore the country is by car, it gives you more opportunity to stop and see things at your leisure
- Iceland is not a cheap place – accommodation and food are pricey!
- This is a great place to visit as a stopover from North America to Europe or as a short trip from most European countries
- This is not a beach holiday location. It is chilly even in the summer so take some warm clothes with you!
Planning Your Visit to Iceland
📍 Where Is Iceland?
Iceland is an island nation sitting in the North Atlantic Ocean, straddling the Mid-Atlantic Ridge where the Eurasian and North American tectonic plates diverge. Positioned just south of the Arctic Circle, it lies roughly midway between mainland Europe and the eastern coast of Greenland. Despite its name, Iceland is surprisingly green and habitable — at least along its coastal edges. The interior Highland, a vast expanse of lava fields, glaciers, and volcanic desert covering around 40% of the island, remains largely uninhabited.
The capital, Reykjavík, sits on the south-western coast and is home to roughly two-thirds of the country’s 397,000 people. It is the northernmost capital city of any sovereign state in the world. Iceland divides broadly into seven regions: Reykjavík and the Capital Area, the Reykjanes Peninsula, West Iceland, the Westfjords, North Iceland, East Iceland, and South Iceland — each with its own distinct character, landscape, and atmosphere.
✈️ Getting There
The main gateway is Keflavík International Airport (KEF), located around 49 kilometres south-west of Reykjavík on the Reykjanes Peninsula. Most international flights arrive here, with direct services operating from across Europe and North America. The airport handles the vast majority of international traffic, so virtually all visitors pass through it.
A small domestic airport exists within Reykjavík city itself — Reykjavík Domestic Airport — but this serves only internal Icelandic routes, so it is important not to confuse the two when booking.
Most visitors from European countries can enter Iceland without a visa for stays of up to 90 days within any 180-day period. Iceland is part of the Schengen Area, so the same entry rules broadly apply as for other Schengen member states. Travellers should ensure their passport is valid for at least three months beyond their intended departure date. Those arriving from Schengen-exempt countries should check whether the European ETIAS travel authorisation applies to their nationality, as this system is being progressively introduced.
🚗 Getting Around
There are no railways in Iceland. Getting around the country relies on a combination of car hire, buses, domestic flights, and — in some areas — ferries.
By Car
Hiring a car is by far the most popular and practical way to explore Iceland. It offers flexibility that public transport simply cannot match, particularly when venturing beyond the capital. Most of the major international car hire companies operate desks in the arrivals hall at Keflavík Airport, and booking in advance is strongly recommended, especially from June to September when demand is at its highest.
The famous Ring Road — Highway 1, known in Icelandic as Hringvegurinn — runs the full circumference of the island (with the exception of some Westfjords sections) and connects most of the major towns, natural attractions, and communities along the coast.
For exploring the Highlands, Highland roads (known as F-roads, prefixed with an “F” before the road number, such as F208) are the only legal off-road option. These are rough, unpaved, often deeply rutted mountain tracks that are only open during summer — typically from late June to early September, depending on conditions. By law, only 4WD vehicles are permitted on F-roads. Attempting to drive a standard two-wheel-drive car on them is illegal and will invalidate your hire car insurance. River crossings on some F-roads add an additional layer of complexity, and driving them in convoy with at least one other vehicle is strongly advised.
Driving Rules to Know
Iceland drives on the right. Headlights must be switched on at all times, regardless of the weather or time of day. Speed limits are 50 km/h in built-up areas, 80 km/h on gravel roads, and 90 km/h on surfaced rural roads. Speed cameras — both fixed and mobile — operate throughout the country and fines for speeding are substantial. From January 2026, Iceland introduced a kilometre-based road usage fee for all vehicle types; if you are hiring a car, this will typically be included in the rental pricing.
Livestock — particularly sheep — roam freely in the Highlands and across open countryside during the summer months and can appear on roads without warning. Exercise particular care on roads with poor visibility and watch for “blindhæð” (blind hill) warning signs.
Off-Road Driving
It is absolutely illegal to drive off marked roads and tracks in Iceland under any circumstances. The country’s moss, lava fields, and fragile ecosystems take centuries to recover from vehicle damage. Fines for off-road driving are severe — in documented cases they have exceeded the equivalent of £10,000 — and in extreme cases criminal charges may follow.
By Bus
A bus network operates between major destinations, though services outside of July and August are significantly reduced and can be non-existent in more remote areas. Reykjavík has a useful city bus network for getting around the capital. For getting between the city and Keflavík Airport, shuttle bus services such as Flybus offer a far more economical alternative to taxis, which can be extremely expensive for longer journeys.
By Domestic Flight
For those short on time or wishing to reach remote northern or eastern areas efficiently, domestic flights link Reykjavík Domestic Airport with destinations including Akureyri, Ísafjörður, and Egilsstaðir. In winter, flights can sometimes be the only viable connection between certain parts of the country, though poor weather can also disrupt schedules.
Best time to Iceland
Iceland is a destination for all seasons, but the experience varies enormously depending on when you go. From the ethereal glow of the midnight sun in summer to the dancing curtains of the northern lights in winter, each season offers something entirely different. Understanding the trade-offs between weather, daylight, crowds, and cost will help you choose the visit that suits you best.
🌸 Spring — March to May
Spring arrives slowly in Iceland. March remains decidedly wintry, with snow still blanketing the highlands and temperatures hovering around freezing, but by April the landscape begins to stir. Waterfalls swell to dramatic proportions as snowmelt rushes off the mountains, and the first puffins return to their clifftop colonies by mid-April — a magical sight along the Westfjords and on the Snæfellsnes Peninsula. May brings increasingly long days, with daylight stretching to around 17–20 hours by month’s end, and the roads gradually reopen as snow recedes.
Spring is a transitional season with unpredictable weather: sunshine, rain, sleet, and wind can arrive in quick succession within a single afternoon. The highland roads (F-roads) remain closed until late May or June depending on conditions, so access to the interior is limited. However, spring brings notably quieter attractions and lower prices than summer, making it an excellent choice for those willing to be flexible.
What to pack: Waterproof and windproof outer layer, thermal base layers, fleece mid-layer, insulated jacket, waterproof hiking boots, woollen hat and gloves, buff or neck gaiter, quick-dry trousers, sunglasses (UV), and a small daypack. Layers are essential as conditions can change rapidly.
☀️ Summer — June to August
Summer is Iceland’s most popular season, and for good reason. The midnight sun transforms the country into a place of dreamlike, perpetual golden light. In June, the sun barely dips below the horizon at all in the north of the country, and even in Reykjavík it remains bright enough to read outside at midnight. This extraordinary daylight allows for incredibly long days of exploration — hiking, whale watching, kayaking, river rafting, and road-tripping along the Ring Road without the pressure of fading light.
Temperatures are mild rather than warm, typically reaching 10–15°C, with occasional warmer spells. The highland F-roads open, granting access to the interior wilderness of Landmannalaugar and Þórsmörk, which are simply inaccessible at other times of year. Festivals, outdoor concerts, and cultural events fill the calendar, and the country buzzes with energy. The downside is that summer is unambiguously peak season: popular sites such as the Blue Lagoon, Jökulsárlón glacier lagoon, Geysir, and Skógafoss are considerably busier, accommodation prices peak, and advance booking is essential.
What to pack: Waterproof jacket and trousers, multiple mid-layers (fleece or light down), t-shirts and long-sleeved tops, sturdy waterproof walking boots, sunglasses, sun cream (SPF 30+), a sleep mask (the midnight sun makes sleeping tricky), light gloves for highland or glacier visits, and a compact daypack. Do not rely on warm temperatures alone — the wind makes it feel considerably cooler.
🍂 Autumn — September to November
Autumn is arguably Iceland’s most underrated season. September is particularly special: the summer crowds have largely departed, yet the weather remains relatively settled and the days still hold several hours of useful daylight. The highlands blaze with russet, copper, and amber as the vegetation turns, and the northern lights make their return to dark enough skies from mid-August onwards, intensifying as the weeks pass. By late September, the aurora borealis is regularly visible on clear nights.
October brings increasingly stormy weather and rapidly shortening days, but also some of the most dramatic skyscapes and crashing surf Iceland produces. Storm-watching from the comfort of a well-placed guesthouse on the Snæfellsnes Peninsula or the south coast is a genuine experience in itself. November is cold and darker still, with road conditions deteriorating, but prices drop considerably and the northern lights can be spectacular.
What to pack: Warm waterproof jacket, insulated mid-layer, thermal base layers, waterproof trousers, sturdy waterproof boots with grip (ice is possible by November), woollen hat, scarf, and gloves, warm socks, a headtorch for dark evenings, and a camera with a tripod for aurora photography.
❄️ Winter — December to February
Winter in Iceland is an immersive, otherworldly experience, but it demands realistic expectations. Daylight is extremely limited — as few as four hours in late December — and temperatures regularly drop well below freezing, particularly in the north and inland. Roads can be icy or temporarily closed, and coastal storms can be fierce. That said, winter offers rewards that no other season can match.
The northern lights are the headline attraction, and the long, dark nights provide the ideal conditions for viewing them. Iceland is also home to extraordinary ice cave formations inside glaciers such as Vatnajökull, which are only safely accessible in winter when the ice is stable — a truly unforgettable underground spectacle. The Christmas period in Reykjavík is charming, with the city warmly lit and the geothermal swimming pools wonderfully inviting against the cold air. Prices are generally at their lowest between January and February, and the crowds are at their thinnest outside the Christmas and New Year period.
What to pack: Heavy insulated jacket (down or synthetic), thermal base layers (top and bottom), fleece mid-layer, waterproof windproof outer shell, thermal hat covering the ears, thick woollen gloves or mittens, a neck gaiter or balaclava, thermal socks, insulated and waterproof boots with good grip or microspikes for icy paths, hand warmers, a headtorch, and a tripod for northern lights photography. Dress in proper layers — Icelandic winter cold is not to be underestimated.
🏆 Overall Best Time to Visit
If you are visiting Iceland for the first time and want the most accessible, varied, and reliably enjoyable experience, late June to early August is the standout choice. The midnight sun, open roads, mild temperatures, and the full range of activities available make summer the easiest season in which to explore the country comprehensively. However, if the northern lights are your primary goal, September or October offers the best balance: dark enough skies for aurora viewing, fewer crowds than summer, and lingering autumn beauty. Budget-conscious travellers and those seeking solitude will find January to February extraordinarily rewarding, provided they are properly equipped and content with shorter days. Whenever you go, Iceland will astonish you — the question is simply which version of it you wish to encounter.
Where to stay
1. Black Pearl luxury apartments
Located near the Old Harbour in central Reykjavik, Black Pearl Luxury Apartments offers spacious serviced apartments designed for travellers who want more flexibility than a standard hotel stay. The property combines modern interiors with practical features including fully equipped kitchens, large living areas and private balconies. Suites are finished with contemporary furnishings, heated marble floors and high-spec appliances, making them suitable for both short breaks and longer stays. Guests are within walking distance of Reykjavik’s main attractions, restaurants and waterfront bars, while the apartment-style layout provides a quieter and more private base in the city centre. The overall focus is on comfort, convenience and understated luxury rather than traditional hotel formality.
2. Skuggi Hotel Reykjavík
Located in a quieter part of central Reykjavík, Skuggi Hotel Reykjavík is a practical base for exploring the city on foot. The hotel takes its design cues from the work of Icelandic photographer Ragnar Axelsson, with dark tones and simple interiors that reflect the surrounding landscape without overdoing the theme. Rooms are compact but comfortable, with reliable Wi-Fi, good soundproofing and useful touches such as blackout curtains and heated bathroom floors. Breakfast is included and covers the essentials, making it easy to start the day before heading out to nearby cafés, museums and the waterfront. The location also works well for travellers planning day trips, with tour pick-up points and main roads close by.
3. KEX
Set in a former biscuit factory near the waterfront, KEX Hostel has become one of the better-known places to stay in Reykjavík for travellers who want something more social than a standard hotel. The building keeps much of its industrial character, with exposed pipes, worn timber floors and a busy communal bar that draws both visitors and locals. Rooms range from shared dorms to private doubles, making it accessible for different budgets. Its location is practical rather than scenic, but most central sights, cafés and bars are within walking distance. KEX works best for people who value atmosphere and convenience over luxury, and it manages to feel lively without becoming chaotic.
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