The south: The sequel

We had a lot of miles to cover yesterday and we knew we wouldn’t have time to stop everywhere that looked good en route, so our plan for today was to backtrack slightly to see more of what the south had to offer before our final push to Reykjavík tomorrow. This meant that for once, we had some semblance of a proper plan: a five-stop strategy, if you will.

🏎 Pitstop 1: The turf houses of Drangshlíð

We’d seen these old houses built into a rocky outcrop on the previous day and I was desperate to take a closer look, but it turned out there wasn’t much more to see – they weren’t structurally sound enough to go inside. Still, they looked like they would have been pretty cosy and a good place to see out Iceland’s harsh winters. In an effort to liven up this stop, we drove away with Alex’s bottle of milk perched on the windscreen. It’s hard to explain why.

🏎 Pitstop 2: The Sólheimasandur plane wreck

In 1973, a US Navy DC-3 suffered engine failure and crash-landed on the bleak expanse of volcanic ash at Sólheimasandur. Although any salvageable plane parts have long since been removed, the fuselage still remains and has become a tourist attraction. I had mixed feelings about making this stop, but we’d read that the whole crew survived the incident, which did ease some of my misgivings. To get to the crash site, we had the choice between a 7 km round trip on foot or a five-minute shuttle that would set us back 3200 ISK (approx. 18 GBP per person). I think you can guess which option we took!

Having seen this plane in several YouTube videos, I wasn’t surprised to have the opportunity to introduce Oli to the concept of @influencersinthewild. There were an awful lot of disrespectful photoshoots in progress! Despite this, seeing the fuselage resting in the arid landscape was a cool, if slightly eerie, experience.

The outbound walk was a bit monotonous, but on the way back to the car, we had a great view of the distant mountains but also a pretty extreme sidewind. It’s the most tired I’ve ever been after a short walk! Alex slept through the whole thing, cosily tucked into Oli’s coat.

🏎 Pitstop 3: Reynisfjara beach

Now firmly on the Instagram trail, we braved busy Reynisfjara beach. Although we’d already visited several black sand beaches, we were here to see the basalt columns at one end – remember Hallgrimskirkja? These are the ‘organ pipe’ formations that inspired its design. Although there were a healthy number of people on the beach, it was still easy to appreciate the beauty of the rock formations against the blue sky – we really couldn’t believe our luck with the weather. Even better, the payment machines were broken so parking was free for the day! 💰💰💰

🏎 Pitstop 4: Kvernufoss

In search of the path less travelled and with limited time before we needed to head back for Alex’s bedtime, we opted to skip popular Skógafoss and instead headed to neighbouring Kvernufoss.

This turned out to be a great decision – the waterfall may have been smaller (in both height and volume), but it was still absolutely stunning and there were very few other people there, save for a couple getting married up on a grassy ledge! We walked through a canyon formed by the river before reaching the base of the falls, and were then even able to walk behind the waterfall, which was both soggy and exhilarating. Alex once again proved difficult to impress, and observed nonchalantly from his spot inside Oli’s coat.

🎆 Brief interlude to watch the Northern Lights

The Aurora forecast was again looking promising and the skies were clear, so we spent the evening peeking out of the curtains and were so lucky to see another beautiful display. It felt a little ironic that we’d stayed in quite a few very rural and very dark places on this trip and then saw the Northern Lights when we were staying in an actual town with streetlights, but it was still magical!

🏎 Pitstop 5: Seljalandsfoss & Gljufrabui

The next morning, we couldn’t resist one last visit to some waterfalls. Like Kvernufoss (above), Seljalandsfoss is fed from meltwater from the glacial peak of Eyjafjallajökull. If that name sounds vaguely familiar, cast your mind back to 2010 and the volcanic ash chaos across European airspace – this is the very volcano that erupted! Alex was mid-nap so we had to take it in turns to walk from the car to the falls and the whole place was so crowded that I nearly didn’t bother. In the end, Oli convinced me on the basis that there were so many inappropriately-dressed people slipping around and getting soaked that I just had to go and see them, and this worked!

Once Alex was awake, we walked together to Gljufrabui, a rival waterfall less than a kilometer away. This was way more impressive, but also much scarier – with hindsight, probably not the best spot for Alex, although he didn’t seem to mind. The waterfall flows into an incredibly narrow canyon, and to get to its base involved a balancing act along a set of wobbly stepping stones through the fast-flowing (but mercifully shallow) river.

Once inside the cavern, the noise and spray from the falls in the confined space were a real assault on the senses. I didn’t capture it well at all (I was actually quite scared!) but the photos at the start of this post sell it much better.


This marked the end of our time exploring the south of Iceland, and next we concluded our road trip by heading back to the capital to eat many baked goods and search for the cats of Reykjavík.

At the end of the road in the Eastfjords

From dramatic Dettifoss, we continued heading east along the ring road through the wildest and emptiest landscapes we’d seen yet.

That’s something I’m loving about Iceland – every few hours, the landscape totally changes, and not gradually either. We cross some invisible boundary, and suddenly a grassy plain turns to a mossy lava field, or rocky mountains turn to hills alive with autumn colour. My action photos are not the best on this trip as I’ve been busy juggling photography with sitting in the back and entertaining a baby, so you’ll just have to take my word for it!

Anyway, our destination was the small town of Neskaupstaður, with a dramatic fjordside setting that led out to the Norwegian Sea. I say small town – it’s actually the third largest in the region, but with a population of just 1500, it certainly didn’t feel that way. We were tempted to visit mostly because we’d read that Neskaupstaður sat right at the end of the road going eastwards, and for some reason, this appealed.

We slowed down for a day here, which was much needed after racking up well over 1000 km on our hire car already. Our first activity was a walk through a nature reserve to Easter Cave, trying (unsuccessfully) to spot whales on the way. This was a very pleasant stroll, but I think this Google review about captures it, “Since there is not much to see in Neskaupstaður, this is considered some kind of must see if you are staying in the area.” Hmm!

My second activity involved leaving Oli and Alex (who was supposed to be napping) and heading off to the local outdoor swimming pool. This might sound like an odd activity, but I’d read that swimming pools are a community hub and an important part of the culture here. It was great to experience yet another country’s bathing customs and etiquette, after some fun times in Georgia, Kazakhstan, South Korea, Japan and New Zealand. The pool (and whole town, actually) was so quiet that I had no witnesses to anything I might have been doing wrong but there was also no one to copy! Anyway, I think I managed not to break any cardinal rules by broadly following what I’d learnt in Japan:

  1. Remove shoes at the earliest opportunity! (There were shoe racks outside the changing rooms so that was a fairly obvious hint)
  2. Shower thoroughly without a swimming costume before entering the pools. (This was less obvious but thankfully I’d read about this in advance. The key difference to Japan is that you’re then expected to put on a swimsuit to go in the baths themselves – no nudity there)
  3. Dry off before re-entering the changing rooms. (Why is this not a rule at home?! It makes the changing rooms so much more pleasant without a mix of mud and pool water all over the floor)

Anyway, as always it was a lovely experience, even if the main pool was inexplicably covered so I had to split my time between the hot pots and the sauna instead (nightmare).

The next day, we began our drive south. The ring road here traces the inlets of the Eastfjords region, which meant it was slow going, but we were rewarded with more beautiful scenery of wild rocky mountains running down to the calm blue sea. Once again, my photos don’t do the landscape justice at all! It was this day that we commented that Iceland is at least as beautiful as NZ, our nearest similar reference point.

As on previous days, we passed very few towns and so our stop for lunch in Djúpivogur was driven as much by necessity as any kind of planning, but it provided one of those excellent travel moments where we felt very pleased with ourselves and with life. We came across a food truck run by the loveliest man, who was reminscing about how he used to transport his son in a carrier just as Oli was carrying Alex. We ordered both items on the menu (a hot dog for Oli and a local smoked salmon roll for me) and then ate in the glorious sunshine with a view of the harbour. My roll was a thing of beauty, topped with raw and fried onions, pickled radish, rocket and remoulade. Oli’s hot dog was so good that he went back for a second one! (I may have talked him into this so I could have a bite). Buoyed by our success, we then came across a cosy cafe where we shared a coffee and delicious slice of carrot cake.

To round off an excellent day of food (which, frankly, has been tricky with a restless baby who doesn’t like us to sit down to eat), we stopped for some dinner in Höfn. The fish and chips were predictably excellent, but the view across the fjord to the Vatnajökull ice cap really claimed the prize.

We ended the day in a guesthouse in the shadow of the huge Vatnajökull ice cap that takes up pretty much all of the south-eastern corner of Iceland. The aurora forecast wasn’t looking that promising, but the skies were clear and there was very little light pollution so it seemed worth popping out at midnight. I’d read that using a long camera exposure can help you to spot the Northern Lights even before they are visible to the naked eye, and there was something light on the horizon so I was feeling pretty excited and gave it a go. Anyway, long story short – I didn’t see the Northern Lights and instead you can enjoy a picture of what turned out to be a lorry approaching on the ring road in the distance!

Now firmly back on the tourist trail, we took the next couple of days to enjoy the sights of southern Iceland.

Driving the Troll Peninsula of northern Iceland 🧌

After a night staying in a huge old farmhouse where Alex had his first ever kitchen-sink bath (surely a rite of passage), we set off in the driving rain excited to be heading north. Our destination was Tröllaskagi, better known as the Tröllaskagi Peninsula (although this translates as the Troll Peninsula Peninsula, nearly but not quite RAS syndrome!). We’d read that this was an absolutely spectacular and worthwhile 186 km detour from the ring road.

On the way, Alex outdid himself and required a full outfit change (I’ll spare you the details) so we made an unscheduled stop in a service station. This was a pretty lucky find since it’s still the only one I’ve seen – despite being the country’s main trunk road, most of the ring road is seriously remote. Anyway, this pitstop gave us the perfect excuse to try a gas station hot dog, which we’d read was an Icelandic snack with cult status. We had ours topped with a mix of fresh and crunchy fried onions and as Oli said, they tasted way better than they had any right to taste. I’m already planning my next one!

Now way behind schedule (a running theme) we continued our journey north onto the peninsula. Our first stop was Grafarkirkja, a tiny turf-covered church built in the late 17th century that is in the running for the oldest church in Iceland. However, the plot twist upon arriving was that it had actually been rebuilt in 1953! Either way, it was good to see one of Iceland’s iconic turf roofs up close, and the setting would have been gorgeous had we been able to see the surrounding mountains through the rain and cloud…

We continued round to Siglufjörður, a small town at the northern tip of the peninsula and our stop for the night. We knew that the only way in and out of town (other than by sea) were a set of tunnels, but we were still taken by surprise when we entered a tiny single track tunnel on what had previously been a fairly fast road. It made for a very nervewracking couple of kilometres, unsure if we were going to meet anyone in the dark!

Even in the rain, we liked Siglufjörður straight away. It had an atmospheric, end-of-the-road feel, but just enough services not to make me panic that I might run out of coffee.

The next morning dawned beautifully clear and bright (and we heard that we’d missed the Aurora AGAIN!). We decided to backtrack a little way to see some of the scenery we’d missed the previous afternoon, which was a great decision for two reasons:

  1. It really was as spectacular as billed
  2. We solved the tunnel mystery! (It turned out the other direction was very clearly instructed to give way into small passing spaces. This still seemed a bit mad but thankfully there really wasn’t much traffic)

Once back in town, we took some time to wander around the harbour and enjoyed the brightly coloured buildings, bobbing fishing boats and snowcapped mountains in the clear Nordic light.

Then it was time for the main event: fish and chips! Surrounded by the sea as it is, it’s no surprise that this is a key comfort food in Iceland. We had two beautifully fresh pieces of cod each, served on some crunchy french fries (which seemed wrong at first because we’re so used to thick-cut chips, but they definitely worked). I had mine with remoulade, an Icelandic take on the French sauce that I’ve since read is often served on hot dogs here. Oli had his with sweet and sour sauce (the less said about that the better – you can’t reason with some people). It might have been a more relaxed experience if it weren’t for Alex squawking loudly throughout, but thankfully the friendly owner assured us that he had four boys at home and totally understood. Phew!

Our penultimate stop for the day was the Herring Era Museum, which had come highly recommended and was definitely worth a visit, despite us never having spared a thought for herring beforehand. The museum was set across three harbourfront warehouses and told the story of fishing, processing and salting the herring that used to be the town’s main livelihood – that was, until the herring ‘disappeared’ in the 1960s. There wasn’t much acknowledgement of why this had happened, but we assume over-fishing.

To be honest, my favourite part was probably the exhibition of Troll and Yule Lads illustrations that appeared without context on the upper floor of one of the warehouses. I have no idea what this had to do with herring (very little, I assume) but I knew that folklore was important in Icelandic culture. It was pretty fascinating to see these illustrations by the artist Brian Pilkington, who hails from Liverpool but whose work is apparently recognisable to all Icelanders and has helped shape what these characters look like in the collective imagination.

We rounded off the day with a quick drink at Segull 67 Brewery, where Alex spent his time desperately trying to grab our beers from us, I sulked that they’d run out of stout, and Oli just tried to enjoy his beer in peace.

Then it was time to skip town, via some more tunnels and gorgeous scenery. We counted ourselves incredibly lucky with our timing – September is firmly shoulder season here (and counts as winter for most shop, restaurant and museum opening times), but we managed to get the best of both worlds with some beautiful weather but also the first snow on the mountains.

We ended our exploration of Tröllaskagi in Akureyri, Iceland’s second city. Ever heard of it? I wouldn’t blame you if not – its population is less than 20,000! From here, it was time to see what else northern Iceland had in store for us.

Akureyri from across the fjord