Not for this sturdy Nordic land are legal warnings about the dangers of hot coffee or slippery roads. Weather closures? Don't be silly. Iceland stays open all year, despite the dark, snow and ice. Drive. Hike. Climb behind a waterfall. If you're stupid enough to slide into a ditch, slip and break a bone or plunge to your death off an icy trail, that's down to your own lack of common sense. The Icelanders, after all, are all indoors having a soak at their community hot water pools.
We managed to fit a fair amount of exploring into five days, with the only casualty being a badly jammed kneecap when, despite taking great care, I wiped out on a sheet of ice that covered the car park at the Reykjavic Saga Museum. But, really, it was just a matter of time. Pretty much every car park, pavement and side road in the country was a skating rink. (The notable exception being the Blue Lagoon which, one assumes, has such an enormous flow of foreign tourists they feel the need for more thorough clearance.)
There is no bad weather; only inappropriate clothing. If I ever do Iceland again in the winter, I'll be going with slip-on crampons to slip beneath boots with much better traction than the fashionable but useless version I took along. I'd made the mistake of anticipating lots of snow, which any time spent looking at average temperatures would have told me was a mistake. Thanks to the Gulf Stream, the whole country hovers, on average, a degree or two on either side of freezing all winter. This, inevitably, leads to a world wavering between water and its frozen form. It is, after all, called ICEland.
So why in the world did we head to this treacherous, real-life version of the Frozen set in the depths of winter? Two reasons: northern lights, and one of the most spectacular New Year's Eve traditions in the world. We did indeed see those magical lights, and the turn-of-the-year festivities lived up to expectations. More on those in the next entry. But, even for the most ardent, that's less than 12 hours of activity. How do you fill the rest of the trip?
Sightseeing is possible, despite the fact there are just over four hours of daylight at this time of the year. In Reykjavic, they just get on with things in the dark. In the countryside, you time your visits so you're driving to and from your destination in twilight, saving the sun for the sights. Although "sun" is a relative term. Low on the horizon, screened most of the time by thick banks of clouds, the light source is less sunshine and more a murky, pearlescent illumination. The landscape was dark rock peeking through drifts of snow, mediated by tones of grey and the occasional fungal green. It's like living in a black and white film.
But a very, very dramatic one. We spent three days on the south coast, where imposing volcanic peaks drop into strips of flat, water- and glacier-scrubbed fields before black sand beaches give way to plunging surf. Waterfalls plummet down cliff faces. Meandering streams cut stark deltas, free of any grasses or trees as they flow to the sea.
Our south coast highlights:
Seljalandsfoss - Conveniently located within sight of the main road, you can't miss this one. Its great claim to fame is one that needs warmer weather: stairs at either side give you access to a cavern behind the falls. At this time of year the way is completely iced over, so we just gazed in admiration at the power of the water thundering off the cliff.
Vik - Hard to believe, but this tiny hamlet of around 300 inhabitants is the biggest population centre on this stretch of coast. It's raw nature with a few farmsteads for 50 miles in either direction. Thus the petrol station, restaurant and small woollen mill here are a big deal. For the best sight, however, you leave your car and walk a couple hundred yards out to the beach, where the dramatic stretch of black basalt sand with atmospheric basalt pinnacles rising out of the waves offshore has featured on lists of the 10 most beautiful beaches in the world. And the drive into Vik from the west, sweeping around a mountain pass with spectacular views before descending back to the coast, is equally dramatic.
Gamla Fjosio - This little restaurant sits in that wilderness to the west of Vik, not far from the visitor's centre for Eyjafjallajokull. That's the tough-to-pronounce volcano that shut down air traffic across Europe in 2010. The visitor centre is a barn with some photos and information boards inside, on which we decided not to lay out £4 per person to explore. I'd rather put it in this place. A homey, barn-like interior with no more than a dozen tables features a simple but tasty menu, all based on the cattle from the farm here, and served by the family. My "volcano soup" (spicy beef and vegetable) was a tasty and warming starter, while Piers' cured beef had him asking for recipe tips. We went on to a steak sandwich and a burger, both very good. The drawback, like anything in Iceland, is price. This very simple lunch with a couple of drinks each came in at £30 per person.
Our Reykjavic highlights:
The Cathedral - I admired the building on my visit in 2013, but discovered two new aspects this time. First, the tower is pierced and illuminated, giving a filigree effect in the dark. Which is, of course, most of the winder. Second, you can take a lift up the tower and then it's a short climb up to a viewing platform below that filigree. The views over town, shimmering in the pre-dawn half light, were magical.
The Saga Museum - Calling this a museum is stretching the point. There are no historic artefacts here and it's not particularly scholarly. Think Madame Tussaud's does Icelandic history. Pay your money, get an audio guide and
The National Museum of Iceland - Once you've gotten the cartoon strip version at the Saga Museum, come here for the real stuff. Precious artefacts from settlement through the modern age. A tiny votive statue of Thor, an intricately carved medieval church door, local silver production, native costume, and much more. A horrifically ugly building on the outside, but indoors its elegantly designed and everything is well displayed. If I could re-do my 2013 trip, this is the one thing we would have seen in town.
The Blue Lagoon - Pretty much as I described it the last time. We went on New Year's day, however, and this was probably a mistake. The crowds were substantial, even with our pre-paid vouchers, so we forked out an additional £30 per person to skip the queues and upgrade to a premium package. That gave us a couple of free drinks, gown and towel rental, and a booking (only) in the restaurant. Another expensive lunch, albeit in more elegant surroundings that the Gamla farm. The high-ceilinged room looks out through glass walls at the steaming lagoon and the Icelandic specialities are beautifully presented, but the service isn't particularly attentive. We advised the staff about Piers' tomato allergy, and discussing menu choices, they then thoughtlessly served up sun-dried tomato bread. Which, fortunately, he didn't eat too much of before we realised what that subtle flavouring was. I'd return to the lagoon any trip, but not on a holiday and probably not for the restaurant.
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