Icelandic Hotels: Ranga falls a bit below expectations, The Grand above

My interest in Iceland kindled two years ago thanks to a Country Life magazine article about a Northern Lights-viewing trip to Hotel Ranga on the south coast.  The organiser was an Icelandic specialist called Discover the World.  When we decided on Iceland for the 2013 girls' trip, we went for the same organiser and itinerary.

Problem was, after getting our deposits down they told us that Ranga was sold out.  We diverted to the wonderful Hotel Glymur, but the sell-out made Ranga all the more intriguing.  So when Piers and I decided on Iceland for New Year, I tried again.  Discover the World again took my deposit for a Ranga-based itinerary.  And, again, came back a few days later, apologising, to say the hotel was sold out.

I don't often channel my aggressive, the-customer-is-always-right American roots.  But this was one of those times.  After frustrated mentions of the problems on the last trip, treatment of return customers and  a suggestion of bait-and-switch marketing strategies … they found room for us at Ranga.  Was it worth the effort?

The battle to get here might have created unrealistic expectations, because I found Ranga to be a fine but not extraordinary hotel.  Glymur was probably better, and certainly had a more spectacular setting.  Ranga's most notable edge was its cheerful and chatty staff, led by a manager who circulated the dining room getting to know guests and was always on hand to advise on sightseeing routes.

The atmosphere here is wilderness lodge.  Ranga is essentially a giant log cabin.  Check in, bar, restaurant and lounges are in the two-story central block, a corridor stretches in each direction with a single story of rooms.  The taxidermised polar bear, arctic fox and salmon decorating the lobby drive the point home.  The rooms are simple, basic and comfortable, with doors direct to an outside patio.  Those facing south look over sloping fields and a river flowing swiftly to the sea and provide quick access to the hot tubs.  Those on the other side overlook the car park, but would have the advantage of Northern Lights views (when the lights show themselves) without leaving the room.

The rooms have neither the charm nor the space to merit spending much waking time in them.  If you're not enjoying the hot tub or getting a massage (one of the best I've had, ask for Kathrin), there's a lounge filled with oversized leather chairs and sofas above the bar and restaurant.  Windows set into the gabled roof give views of the river lands beyond.

We were on half board (dinner, bed and breakfast), essential when dining prices anywhere in the country are steep and you're a captive audience.  There are basic restaurants in towns 20 minutes in either direction, but I doubt it would be worth the effort.  Dinners at Ranga were excellent.  Adeptly prepared, beautifully presented and concentrating on Icelandic favourites like Arctic Char, lamb and skyr (very similar to sweetened Greek yogurt).  Our biggest complaint … besides them letting the tomato-allergic Piers get a third of the way through some seafood soup before apologising and whisking it away, realising the offending ingredient was in the stock … was repetition.  There's no choice: you get what the chef decides.  Our three nights featured chicken as a main course for dinners two and three (with a different sauce), and skyr for dessert on nights one and three (the exact same dish).  All the food was excellent, actually increasing our irritation about the repeats.  We would have liked to try other things.

Back in the city, the expectations v reality battle went in the other direction.  I wasn't looking forward to the Reykjavic Grand, which looked like a characterless cement office block on the outskirts of town, well beyond walking distance to any tourist sights.  Turns out it's built around an architecturally-striking four-story lobby with water features, a central fire-pit and a cathedral-like glass wall at one end

decorated with modern art echoing medieval stained glass.  It's a comfortable place to congregate, with multiple seating areas and a big bar serving up light dishes, drinks and a variety of Iceland's excellent beer.

There's also an underground garage with stairs leading up to the covered porte cochere; a blessedly welcome feature after three days of risking life and limb to get across ice-slicked car parks.  (And falling badly on one of them.)  Upstairs, the rooms are stereotypical Scandinavian design: sparse, cool and elegant.  But the ceilings and windows are high, the rooms bigger than average, the bathroom generous, while the deep blue textiles brought warmth to all the pale colours.

We ate in both nights we were here.  The first because we attended the hotel's New Year's Eve ball, the second because we couldn't be bothered to make the effort to go out.  The buffet with a selection of carved roasts at one end was tasty, though unexceptional.  The same starters and desserts as we'd had the night before re-appeared.

Does Iceland have a particularly limited repertoire of dishes?  We certainly seemed to be having the same things over and over at both hotels.  Probably not.  I'm sure we would have done better to wander into the tourist district.  But this was one of those times when comfort triumphed over culinary exploration.