So we’re back in Iceland with Mr Pointless himself, Alexander Armstrong, with a series that is mostly called Iceland with Alexander Armstrong but if you watch the title cards around the third break in the second episode, it’s also called Alexander Armstrong’s Iceland Adventure. Nice one, Channel 5, on the consistency with the very simplest part of the series, the title.
In episode one, Xander took us around the touristy south-west – to the new volcano, to make bread at Fontana and see the geysirs on the Golden Circle, to the Hidden Folk and to Reykjavik to visit what my mother calls “a certain museum”, get drunk on a rooftop under the Midnight Sun and see Hatari.
In episode two, we’re heading north. He’s just starting to wax lyrical about the scenery when – oh, they’ve plunged into a tunnel which we definitely didn’t see coming. No. You’ll see that tunnel coming a good couple of miles back and you’ll certainly see it long before it suddenly goes dark. It’s the Hvalfjörður Tunnel, which saves you a 41.5km detour around the fjord. It’s a very pretty route and usually pretty quiet so it’s worth doing if you’ve got the time. The tunnel is 5.7km long (and has distance markings in both directions every few hundred yards so you know which is the best way to escape in the event of an emergency, Mr “No Idea How Far It is”) and dives down 165m below sea level. It used to cost 1000kr to use, which was another reason to sometimes drive around the fjord, but the toll was removed in 2018, as they’d made back the cost of construction quicker than planned. In fact, there’s so much traffic using it nowadays that they’re considering building a second tunnel.
We pop out of the tunnel and we should be just on the other side of Reykjavik Bay, really, but the magic of TV means we’re suddenly among the steep-sided fjords of the north, having missed out some 300-400km of driving. He also says driving into Húsavík that it’s first time he’s seen anything resembling civilisation, conveniently forgetting that he has to have driven through Akureyri, the second biggest city in Iceland, to get here. Almost certainly stayed there last night too.
So we’re in Húsavík, the so-called whale watching capital of Iceland and we’re here to watch some whales. And also to watch Xander eat hákarl, or fermented shark. Most people – by which I mean most European or American TV presenters – are revolted by it but Xander eats it thoughtfully, describes its flavour without making disgusted faces and then goes back for more. My understanding is that if you can forget it’s meat that’s been rotted to break down the natural toxins that would otherwise kill you, it tastes a bit like strong blue cheese with a very strong hint of ammonia. Eating it outside rather than in a bar probably helps; the smell is probably less overwhelming in the fresh air.
Before we go out on the water, we go into town to meet Solveig, who has hand-knitted Xander his very own beautiful perfect lopapeysa which he just has to have because it’s the done thing to wear in the north of Iceland – but once we cut away from her flat, it’s never seen again. Could you not have worn it just for this episode? Just for the next segment? Just let it see the fresh air and great outdoors before you shove it away into a suitcase? The incompetence over the knitting is a bit annoying but on the other hand, he doesn’t speak Icelandic and she doesn’t speak much English and I myself have tried and failed at knitting so many times and that’s when I’m able to communicate easily with my would-be teacher. This circular thing looks bewildering.
As for the whale watching, I don’t know if you can actually go out on Opal herself but there are plenty of whale-watching trips up here, from the usual boring tourist ferries to high-speed RIBS to sailing vessels. There’s a boat trip for any taste and any budget. Of course, you can do this in Reykjavik too, you don’t have to head to the north for it, but I think Húsavík isn’t Iceland’s whale-watching capital for nothing.
Next it’s a spot of golf. This man has recreational golfer written all over him but he claims he’s never done it before and indeed, he’s not very good. I don’t know. Golf is golf. I guess playing it in the golden-grey light of the Midnight Sun is a novelty. I understand Iceland has quite a lot of golf courses and golf fans do come here to play at night but it’s not my thing.
Now we’re driving south, where Xander describes the absolute emptiness of Hólasandur as he pulls into a lay-by with a house visible behind him. It’s worth noting that this is almost certainly the main road between Húsavík and Mývatn, the two main tourist centres of this part of the world. You’ll see other traffic along here, believe me. Not as much as you’ll see on the Ring Road and nowhere near what you’ll see on even the smallest quietest country lane in the south-west but this is a major route nonetheless. “The only difference between here and the Sahara is that there the sand is black”, he says. No, “desert” is just a word used to describe the desolation and the fact that it’s kind of sandy. A true desert is a place with very little rain and that just isn’t Iceland. Hólasandur is interesting but on the other side of the lake is Ódáðahraun, which is vast and which means The Desert of Misdeeds and isn’t that just the most metal thing you’ve ever heard? Xander, why didn’t you go to Askja? That’s a good lava field to show off and an amazing thing to swim in.
The next stop is one I’m very proud of finding and that’s the Þeistareikir huts. You can go and stay here. Yes, you. They’re mountain huts, open to hikers as well as sheep farmers. You do need to book in advance and take your own sleeping bag – details at that link. Iceland has plenty of these low-temperature areas, which is the name they give to places where the ground is boiling like this (high temperature areas are where it’s hot enough to put a geothermal power plant). There are plenty of those around and plenty more easily accessible than this one, and better signposted and paved for safety. But if you’re after spending a little while around your own private hot spring area and you’re very careful, this could be quite a good place to make for. You can find it on the map at the bottom of this post, don’t worry.
Next he returns to the Beer Spa. Now, if I was doing this trip, I’d have put the beer spa before I reached Húsavík because it’s an hour and a half’s drive back from Húsavík. I can’t offer any insights into the beer spa except that while I’d enjoy the hot water, I think the mere smell of beer would make me drunk and I’d far rather sit in one of those outside baths than be in a hot private room where the smell can concentrate in a small space.
Again with the mysterious route-planning, now we’re back on the north coast, a 60km drive east from Húsavík to Ásbyrgi, which is worth showing. It’s a vast horseshoe-shaped cliff, carved either by Sleipnir, Odin’s eight-legged steed, or by a colossal volcanic flood.
The cliff they ride the horses alongside is a tiny poor relation of the Ásbyrgi cliffs. Don’t worry, I found the track/stadium/possible ex-airstrip. I don’t know exactly where the horses came from but you’re near the Ásbyrgi visitor centre and campsite and I’m sure they can arrange a ride.
If you’re into horses, you can try out the tölt, which is the unique fifth gait of an Icelandic horse. If you’re not into horses, there are places literally all over the country where you can have a nice gentle lesson which involves nothing more terrifying than just sitting on a fluffy hungry horse and walking in a line across a pretty landscape. He’s right here, by the way. They really do drill it into you that these are not ponies, they’re horses. They’re small horses and they’re characterful and I always get the one that wants to stop and nibble, which means I have to not fall off over its head whenever we pause. You can probably tölt if you’re good enough to not fall off while the horse trots.
And finally, off we go to Mývatn, possibly via that main road I was talking about. There’s enough here to make an entire episode about. Mývatn is a large shallow eutrophic lake with a wealth of volcanic treasures around it. There’s the geothermal power plant that was built here during an eruption, which is why one of the boreholes exploded while they were digging it. There’s a steaming lava field up on the hill behind it. There’s a hot springs area with fences and boardwalks and bubbling grey-blue mud. There’s a shower by the side of the road in a huge puddle full of fluffy green algae. There’s a cave flooded with hot water where you used to be able to swim. It’s now too hot and too full of Game of Thrones fans because this is the setting for a scene between Jon Snow and his girlfriend. There’s a big crater you can climb and walk around. There’s the Mývatn Nature Baths, which is the Blue Lagoon’s wild northern cousin. There’s the pseudocraters, which are like little hills created by hot lava blowing bubbles in the mud. And yes, there’s Dimmuborgir, which the show so kindly didn’t even name. The Dark Cities is a weird place because we’re already seen so many lava fields but this isn’t a field. This is… it’s kind of like the gods dripped semi-solid lava onto the earth from a giant whisk, like when you drizzle melted chocolate over biscuits. I have no idea how this formed. There are paths in between and shrubs and it’s just a nice wild totally unique volcanic formation that’s absolutely worth visiting.
Episode three and we’ve headed south. A long drive via the east fjords? No idea. We’re just suddenly at a random car park looking for the big car you absolutely haven’t noticed that you’ve parked alongside. I found Laufey, by the way. She owns Glacier Journey, as you might guess from the logos on the snowsuits. You can go for a ride in the giant car with her too. Iceland does a roaring trade in oversized vehicles. Sure, that’s a big car. But while it’s a colossal car by British standards, it’s just another big car by Icelandic ones. I did a post a few years ago on massive Icelandic vehicles – go and take a look to really get an idea of how big their vehicles can get.
I find snowmobiling a little scary – glaciers are not flat and snowmobiles feel like they can roll very easily. Also, you have to squeeze the throttle all the time and that means you invariably come back with cramp in your hand. It’s a spectacular landscape though, isn’t it? I’d 100% do this, although I’d personally turn down the lobster.
You can’t go to Iceland – or at least, you can’t go outside Reykjavik – without stopping off at Jökulsárlón, the glacier lagoon. It’s terrifyingly deep but it’s also incredibly beautiful. You can enjoy it from the shore, book a RIB ride or an amphibious boat tour or you can do what Xander’s doing and what I now need to do and kayak among them. I did chuckle that the suits are by Peak UK, which is the same company who makes the wetsuits, jackets and buoyancy aids for my own local kayaking company right here in England (and in fact my own wetsuit).
Oh, what a surprise. The guide just happens to have brought an axe with him to cut a piece of ice! They’ll do this on the amphibious boat tours too. It’s astonishingly crystal clear. They’ll give you a piece to eat but you’ll have to provide your own drink to pop it in.
In another piece of bad geography, the next stop is Heimaey. I haven’t been on the new electric ferry because the last time I went over was 2016 when they still had the previous generation ferry. But I’ve climbed the volcano, which I wish the show had had time for. I’m not sure about the ethics of stealing and eating wild seabird eggs in the twenty-first century but on the other hand, there are plenty of species that are so abundant it’s not going to have any affect whatsoever on their population and it’s better for the birds than farming them, surely?
What I do know about is Little Grey and Little White. As Xander says, they’re famous. They were rescued from a Shanhai aquarium and brought here to their new sanctuary home. They came in a special plane in June 2019 and were moved to a care pool for the first 40-something day, for quarantine and for acclimatising to their new home and new carers. I have no idea what happened but they’re still in the care pool. The latest news is that they’ll be moving to the new intermediate pool at some point, which will let them start to explore the bay before they move out there fully, freely and full-time. If you’re inclined to complain that they’ve spent more than two years in the care pool, remember that the sanctuary is the expert on whale care and on these particular whales and this particular bay and they know what they’re doing.
When this capsule hotel appeared in the “next time…” trailer, I thought it was in Reykjavik but it turns out its a wing of the Hamar Guesthouse and is called the Puffin Nest Capsule Hotel. It’s a shiny thing to have in the middle of a town as small as Heimaey but I guess it’s pretty space-efficient and that means potentially a lot more profitable than an ordinary guesthouse, especially if you have visitors coming just for the novelty. Of course Alexander Armstrong wears stripy pyjamas!
The final stop is Vik, which is a good drive back in the direction of Jökulsárlón. Yes, Katla is a potential threat. She’s overdue an eruption by best reckoning but volcanoes don’t work on human timetables. She used to erupt about every hundred years and the last one was in 1918. It might mean that she does what she wants when she wants or it might mean that the tectonic workings underneath have moved on. It might mean she’s started erupting right now and I just don’t know it yet or it might be another thousand years before she goes again. Nobody knows. Don’t panic too much. For what it’s worth, though, it’ll be a catastrophe when she does. Remember Eyjafjallajökull, all that ash, all those planes grounded? Well, Katla is ten times the size and under a much larger ice cap. Of course, volcanoes are unpredictable but it’s likely that she’ll make an ash cloud bigger than anything you can imagine. That’s why I had my money on her erupting just as international leisure air travel opened up and I’m very glad to have been wrong.
Reynisjfara, the black sand beach, is the most popular tourist spot along this bit of coast and I’m pleased at just how emphatic Xander is about the danger. Tourists genuinely do manage to walk past a forest of signs without seeing them or taking them in. They do stand too close to the water and if you keep an eye on the Grapevine or the Icelandic news, you will see two or three near-fatalities every year, even with these warnings.
The shape of the seabed and the strength of the wind here make a potent combination for unexpectedly grabbing people. Enjoy the cave – and who else (except me and maybe Jay Hulme) would describe it specifically as the great west window of a cathedral? There’s a smaller cave around the corner, although I’d leave it at high tide or in stormy weather. Don’t forget to turn around, there’s a great view of Eyjafjallajökull behind you.
If you’re after a black sand beach with fewer fellow tourists and less sneaker-wave risk, go to the one at Vik. It’s just on the other side of the headland but it’s inaccessible on foot from here. You’ll have to drive back up to the Ring Road, round the mountain and park in Vik. But it’s a lot quieter and you can pretend you have your own private beach most of the time, and with a better view of those pinnacles.
Finally, a visit to the house of Einar, a sheep farmer Xander “just happened to meet” on the beach, whose wife has done an extra serving of boiled sheep’s head. Nope, not going to talk about the eyeball. You’ll find plenty of places where you can get this delicacy without befriending local farmers. If you’re after something properly Icelandic and less scary, go for a pylsa, a lamb hot dog readily available, especially at roadhouses. It’s the national dish of Iceland in the same way that chicken tikka masala is the national dish of England, in that it’s not local but they eat more of it than just about anything else. The lamb part of it is unique, anyway.
And we’re done! I’d have made this a five-part series, personally. Maybe more. There’s so much more I would have liked to see and I’d have liked to see it in a logical geographic order. But this is why hire cars and YouTube exist. I daresay my own Iceland Adventure series won’t be as slick and shiny and it won’t be seen by as many pairs of eyeballs but it’d be more in-depth. Not as much food either. You’d see me eating stjornusnakk and pear juice. You also won’t hear me wailing about Xander’s mispronunciations like I do when I’m watching this. For the record, Heimaey is pronounced something like “hay-may” (see if you can squish an -ee sound on the end too. Don’t say it, just hint at it), not “hi-may” and Einar is “ay-near”, not “eye-nar”. I mean, it’s not 100% perfect Icelandic but it’s closer than Xander is managing.
Oh, I know what else I wouldn’t do! That final speech, about maybe people moved to this inhospitable frozen exploding island because it’s beautiful. No. The Settlement wasn’t during the Instagram age. The Vikings and the early Icelanders didn’t care about the aesthetics. They came over because Norway was starting to feel a bit small – a lot of local kings and chieftains fighting, a lot of taxes, that sort of thing. Plenty of people had visited Iceland and Ingólfur Arnarson was the first to decide that his own land with no rulers, no laws and no chieftains was a bit appealing. Besides, Iceland would have looked very different back in those days. There was as much woodland back then as there’s glaciers now. They cut the trees down for boats, housing and fuel and they never recovered in that climate. The vast lava field that covers a huge area next to Vatnajökull hadn’t been formed then. The entire landscape at Þingvellir was a different shape. But it was about freedom, not beauty, you fool.
Anyway, the important bit: the updated map. I’ve left off Solveig’s flat (although I have an idea where it is) and Einar’s house (no idea where it is) for obvious reasons and I’ve included links of interest where relevant. I said I’d try to put together a route but there isn’t really any sane way to link these all up so I leave it to you to thread your particular favourites into your own trip one day.