There is a lot to see in the north of Iceland. A lot of diversity. Many tourists, especially those short on time, head for the south, which is rich in glaciers, waterfalls, black sand beaches and geothermal sites. However, the north definitely should not be overlooked. Misty mountains and fjords, volcanic craters and twisted lava sculptures, canyons, waterfalls, birch forests and even a desert. It’s going to be hard to condense this area into a blog, but here goes.
Our introduction to the north began with glimpses of potentially picturesque landscape through the thick veil of rain and mist. After experiencing blissful summer sunshine in the Westfjords, it was our time to experience rainy Iceland. A test of our resilience and ability to keep sane in the confines of our campervan when we couldn’t turn the kids out to play until bedtime. It was that really heavy, set-in rain. Our first strategy was to try and wait out the rain over a long lunch and coffee at one of the roadhouses that are much more than just a place to grab fuel. Decent food, coffee with free refills, souvenirs, Wi-Fi and no judgement of a bunch of travelers killing time. Still, there is only so much time one can spend sitting about.
So we drove. The views were limited, but I still enjoy that feeling of being on the road – heading to a destination somewhat unknown. Wondering what will be around the next bend. We stopped hopefully at a few places of interest, braving the rain for a quick view. Grafarkirkja, Iceland’s oldest church was cool, a small wooden building with a turf roof, set in a wide valley, dwarfed by mountains and swallowed in the mist. But we got soaked, so decided it was time to find a campground and bunker down. Surprisingly we did OK in the camper on those sort of evenings.
The morning brought glimpses of misty mountains surrounding us from our vantage point above the town of Siglufjörður. The road passed through tunnels, delving many kilometres through the mountains before emerging to a collage of blue and white, with deep fjords surrounded by mountains ensconced in a patchwork of white clouds and mist. Where the clouds parted, the glare of the sun on the water dazzled in a vast contrast to the grey muted tones that we had left at the other end of the tunnel.
We passed pretty Dalvik, a town described as an Icelandic version of a Swiss Alps village, nestled between tall mountains. Almost too soon we were in relative civilisation again, reaching Iceland’s second largest city Akureyri. The traffic lights here have love hearts. These are the cool little touches of personality you find in Iceland’s towns and cities – rainbow streets, thought-provoking sculptures and murals and traffic lights that have heart. However, we tend to prefer to spend our travels out of the cities, so our stop at Akureyri was mainly about the life admin of travel – stocking up on supplies, topping up the fuel, and then working out the best route out and onto the next place.
Heading east from Akureyri there is either an option to continue on the ring road, paying a toll for the privilege to tunnel through the mountains, or, in summer, you can drive over the mountain pass. The novelty of tunnels had worn off, so we chose scenery and enjoyed twisting and turning over golden-green mountains, dotted as always with woolly sheep.
In Iceland, you can’t travel far without the opportunity to see a waterfall. Our travels that day took us to Goðafoss, and happened to coincide with a massive shore excursion from one of the cruise ships docked in Akureyi. The place was chockers! It wasn’t actually too busy at the lookouts on the side of the falls where we had parked (you can view these falls from both sides), but there were hordes and hordes in and around the visitors’ centre, which we braved so one of the children could buy a toy puffin. Places like this are always going to be busy, but it does make you think how much of an impact these floating cities have when they all descend on a small area at once.
Time to get out on the gravel roads to find a more remote waterfall. Aldeyjarfoss was up there in my top waterfalls. It’s at the start of an F-road, so the drive is a bit rough (no cruise excursions here!). The landscape is barren and rocky, and a river has carved a deep snaking gorge through the landscape. The highlight of the falls are the amazing golden basalt columns, twisted and bent by earths’ forces. It was fun to look for pictures amongst the rocks – a broken tooth; a face peering out from a cave. Light catching the spray of the water forming rainbows. This was one of those places that made us glad we’d hired a 4×4 camper.
From the edge of the highlands, back to the ocean. Our day ended camped among hay bales overlooking the ocean north of Husavik at Camping 66.12 North. A perfect spot to watch the sunset. We slept to the sound of gentle waves, and the occasional baa from the resident sheep.
Our next day dipped in and out of the tourist trail again in the Jökulsárgljúfur national park. The north of the park is Ásbyrgi, an amazing canyon that was formed by a massive glacial flood when a volcano beneath Vatnajökull, Iceland’s largest glacier, erupted, melting the ice and sending a catastrophic force of nature sweeping across the land. The canyon provides shelter for the most gorgeous and peaceful red birch forest, and a rainbow of colour from the diverse plants on the forest floor. Like being in a zen garden, we took in the serenity at a green pool beneath the ochre canyon walls, watching ducks gliding effortlessly on the calm water.
Further south, the middle of the national park, Hljóðaklettar is an area of fascinating lava formations, including ‘troll rock.’ We explored among lava tunnels, spikey rocks and basalt columns that had been flipped horizontally, with little groves of birch growing among the black rocks. Nearby the lookout at Rauðhólar provided a view of some red scoria cones. There were very few other people around, despite the fact that we were probably less than 30 minutes away from the ring road.
By afternoon, we joined the rest of the crowds at Dettifoss, Iceland’s answer to Niagara Falls. An unbelievable volume of water thunders over a cliff as it makes its way down the canyon, spray dousing the many onlookers on the surrounding viewing platforms. The spray from the falls can be seen from the main road – rising like steam from the barren brown land.
We ended our day back at Ásbyrgi, another top spot for camping and surprisingly quiet.
Our journey then took us to Mývatn, an area rich with geothermal sites. Black conical peaks devoid of vegetation, bubbling mud, sulfur and other gases steaming out of vents among ochre coloured earth. Oh, and bloody midges! Mývatn translates to ‘lake of the midges’, and that’s no joke. The midges own this place. While not the kind that inflicts immediate painful bites, the midges are in such voluminous clouds that it’s really pretty awful. We climbed the deep black Hverfjall crater, and the midges made it so unpleasant, threatening to dive into our airways if we dared to breath too deeply, that any plans to walk around the crater rim evaporated. Just about every photo I took looks like my lens is covered by splatters of brown. Amazing landscape, just a shame about the critters. At least the midges were not as bad in the Grjótagjá (the blue pool in a cave – Game of Thrones location), and the lava fields at Dimmuborgir.
Safe to say, we did not fancy bedding down for the evening surrounded by midges. We made our way to the edge of the highlands, to Möðrudalur, a farm settlement that includes a restaurant and campground. We watched some rather tame young artic foxes frolicking as the sun set over the mountains. In the middle of the night, emerging from the camper, I noticed a distinct streak across the sky. The lady aurora gracing us with her presence! It was only September, and the sky remains like twilight all night, but she was clearly there, and showed up with her green glow in our photos. Thankyou Iceland – our cups were full.
After a 3am aurora photo shoot, we had another lazy morning, enjoying more of the artic fox antics as they raced around with the zoomies, pouncing playfully at one another.
We then followed the road through the Icelandic desert. What a place! Barrenly beautiful. A single gravel road leading off into the distance, wiggling between bare mountains, tinged with yellow from the small lichens that grow sparely. Iceland is full of treeless and barren areas, but the desert is a whole new level. God I loved it!
From desert to a kaffihus in the middle of nowhere. Google maps said there was a pancake house in the area, so we followed gravel roads through farm land, passed a hunter hauling a reindeer on his 4×4, and arrived at a little turf-roofed house by a lake. We were welcomed in, our hosts speaking only a little English, and served plates of pancakes with jam and cream, accompanied by pots of strong coffee and hot chocolate for the children. The owners had decided to build a traditional turf house, wanting to connect to the traditional ways, and this is the Sænautasel museum. An unexpected gem. Hand-knitted garments were for sale, and we enjoyed reading about the 50-odd breeds of sheep found in Iceland. The pancakes kept coming. Eventually we had to signal that our bellies were full and bid the lovely hosts farewell. The kids are still raving about this being one of the best experiences of our trip!
In the afternoon we went to Stuðlagil canyon, where a river runs through a narrow canyon of basalt columns. In some conditions the water is azure blue, but other times of the year it is brown. It’s an insta-famous site, and as a result hordes of tourists clamber all over the rocks. It was cool, but we were not motivated to stay long, or make the drive to the other side of the canyon where the best views are (but requiring a long walk).
Instead we headed back north again, away from the ring road, to a small town called Bakkafjörður. A tiny hamlet by the sea. As we drove a sea fog and rime rolled in and the views disappeared. At our campsite the boys played on the jumping pillow, I wandered down to explore the derelict old pier. A quiet evening.
In the morning the sea fog was still enveloping everything in white. Across the fjord were supposedly some of Iceland’s tallest mountains. It looked like the fjord disappeared into nothingness.
We had planned to take a scenic but potentially precarious route around the fjords, but with near zero visibility we opted to return the same route we had driven. We left the unassuming towns of the region, stopping for some baked goods in Vopnafjörður, a slightly bigger town with activity at the port, but still an incredibly sleepy feel. Then we retraced the road with the same lack of views as the day before. Glimpses of grassy brown alpine moors and rivers snaking between hills was all we could guess of this landscape.
We were now making our way into the east of Iceland. We resupplied at Egilsstaðir and went to see the mighty Hengifoss. This waterfall is pretty cool, not only because it’s one of the tallest waterfalls in Iceland at 128 metres, but also because the layers of oxidised rocks that create red and ochre coloured bands. I thoroughly enjoyed the walk up the hill and into the canyon to the base of the falls.
We then settled into our camp on a lovely horse farm, surrounded by colourful mountains as the sky turned a cool shade of violet. Night was falling earlier, now we were about halfway through our month-long trip.
Coming up next: Part 4 – East Iceland
For further information
Visit North Iceland is an official tourism site, with lots of good information and ideas.
Discover Vatnajökull National Park is another good site with information about the Jökulsárgljúfur national park. Great facilities at the Asbergi canyon campground, and there’s also a multi-day walk along the canyon which looks fun.
If road tripping, you want to regularly consult the Icelandic Meteorological Office: vedur.is Driving in strong winds, especially in a campervan is not fun at best, and dangerous at worst.
Another essential website is roads.is to check for updates on road conditions and closures.
We hired our van through JS Campers, and would happily recommend them as a great company with extremely well-set up 4×4 campers.
To find campgrounds in Iceland: tjalda.is Most campgrounds don’t require a booking, which is perfect if you want to travel without a fixed itinerary. This website lists prices and facilities for each campground. Some campgrounds do take bookings through the parka website or app, which can also be used to pay for parking.
We bought a camping card. At the time of writing this costs 179 euros. It is not accepted at all campgrounds, and is most likely going to be worth it if you are travelling for more than three weeks, particularly if you’re flexible and happy to stay in some smaller towns and places that are a little more off the beaten track. The camping card is not accepted at a lot of the more touristy campgrounds in the south and golden circle.
Beautiful set, Laura.