Gone to Iceland

By Elizabeth Johnstone

In November 2013, Iceland‘s world famous rock group Sigur Rós performed in concert in London. As the opening chords of ‘Brennisteinn‘ (‘Brimstone‘) thundered round Wembley Arena, accompanied by images of spewing volcanoes, I turned to my friend and announced: ‘I am so going to Iceland!‘ And I did.

I have an interest in all things Nordic, and have long held an ambition to visit the land of ice and fire. My husband and I spent a week in Reykjavik in June 2015, alternating days in the city with day-long excursions. In view of previous happenings in Iceland (and I will return to the topic of Eyjafjallajökull), I was anxious to have full ATOL protection. I put together a Thomas Cook package comprising seven nights at the Hilton Nórdica Hotel with Easyjet flights from Gatwick.

Arriving at Keflavik Airport, most tourists opt for the Flybus or Gray Line coach transfer service which, for a small supplement, links up with minibuses in the city centre to take you to your hotel (and in reverse on the return journey) There is no other public transport from the airport, which is a good 35 miles outside the city. 

Our hotel, unsurprisingly, catered for an American clientele for whom Iceland was a picturesque stopover en route to or from Europe. It had ‘restrooms‘ but no ‘ground floor‘. Our room was spotless but somewhat small. There was little storage space – I guess few guests were there long enough to unpack! Breakfast was a lavish buffet with both US and Icelandic influences. My husband selflessly samples the bacon and eggs in every hotel we stay at, whereas I make a beeline for smoked salmon and other Nordic specialities. Both were excellent. A bottle of cod liver oil stood proudly on the counter and I saw more than one person take a little plastic glass of it. Iceland has its own yoghurt, called skyr. It is not really a yoghurt, more like fromage frais or the German quark. I enjoyed it.
The hotel was about a mile out of the city centre but offered its guests the free use of a bus pass. Public transport holds no terrors for me and soon we were jumping on and off the buses.

The population of Iceland is approximately 330,000 of whom about two thirds live in or around Reykjavik. Consequently, everything is on a small scale. We started our sightseeing at the grandly named National Museum, two nicely set-out floors of displays and artefacts in a building beside the University. Nothing is too far in this compact city centre. We walked to the Tjörnin or Pond (cognate with ‘tarn‘), the pocket-sized lake which is home to dozens of native and visiting birds. After getting pleasantly lost looking for the tourist information centre, we had a quick sandwich in a coffee shop and headed along the main shopping street, Laugavegur. This name means ‘laundry way‘, because local women used its hot springs for washing clothes. There are no department stores in the city centre, but plenty of designer shops and tourist emporia.

We walked up the hill to the Hallgrímskirkja, Iceland‘s biggest church, whose arresting architecture mimics the basalt pillars formed in the aftermath of volcanic eruptions. In truth, I preferred its sober interior. Outside the church, Leifur Eiríksson adopts a heroic pose, about to sail to America. Many of the streets in the neighbourhood are named after Norse gods. Paganism is not far beneath the surface in a land converted to Christianity only by king’s diktat in 1000 AD. The first new pagan temple in the Nordic countries for a thousand years is to be built in Reykjavik for the practitioners of the Asatru religion. Thor is still a popular name – Sigur Rós frontman Jónsi‘s full name is Jón Þór (or ‘Thor‘) Birgisson.

Heading back to the hotel, we explored the magnificent Harpa building, the city‘s pride and joy, which houses the opera and other cultural facilities. It is a photographer‘s dream, a steel framework clad with geometric shaped glass panels of different colours. Like so much in Iceland, its fate was uncertain in 2008, but it was duly completed. Walking to the bus stop, we passed the iconic ‘Sunfarer‘ sculpture, with its echoes of a Viking longboat. My camera was working overtime by now!

Our days out were arranged through the excellent Iceland Horizon, who specialise in just three trips and only use minibuses carrying up to fifteen people. The smaller numbers mean that you get in and out of the most popular tourist sights quickly and the minibuses were able to access smaller places off the beaten track for added value. We had three different driver-guides, each of whom had lots of local knowledge and personal anecdotes to keep us entertained. Each had been affected in a different way by les événements in 2008. One, for example, had lost his job as a television repair engineer. Another was a retired coastguard pilot. The repercussions of the crash are still being felt, in terms of high interest payments and house repossessions. There is national recovery, but the country is not out of the woods yet.

Our first day trip was to the 100-kilometre peninsula of Snaefelnes, with its glistening fjords, dramatic volcanic peaks, vertiginous sea cliffs and ancient lava flows. At its heart is the Snæfellsjökull, ‘snow mountain glacier‘, immortalised in Jules Verne‘s Journey to the Centre of the Earth. Unfortunately, weather conditions did not permit us to get close to the glacier, but we were told that we would benefit from its emanations of other-worldly energy. Horses everywhere! The Icelandic pony has graduated into a full horse. They are eagerly sought overseas because of their intelligence and hardiness, and horse-trekking (or ‘rental‘, as our guide put it) is a major tourist attraction. 

Next day had a maritime theme. The old harbour has been revamped into a tourist destination. We walked to the furthest part and explored the new attraction ‘Whales of Iceland‘. A simple concept – massive, life-size models of whales, in something like a hangar, with lots of information and photo opportunities. We saw two imposing ships with a prominent ‘H‘ on the funnel. If you are an English speaker from Scotland or the north, you may pronounce ‘where‘ as ‘hwhere‘. Or ‘whale‘ as ‘hwhale‘. Yes, these ships were whalers. Opinion in Iceland is divided on whaling. With year-round food availability, few Icelanders now eat whale, but it is offered to visitors who want to sample local delicacies. So tourists are perpetuating the whaling industry. The whale-watching companies – another major contribution to tourism – are keen to discourage patronage of any restaurant which serves whale. Their motto – ‘Meet us, don‘t eat us!‘

When there was literally nothing to eat over a harsh Atlantic winter, the hardy Icelanders could not afford the luxury of squeamishness. A stranded whale was a godsend that could feed a village for weeks. Puffins and guillemots were free protein. Shark was buried for months to break down the ammonia in its flesh and render it edible. Nowadays, these items are offered as curiosities to tourists but, sadly, several of these species are endangered. My advice: just say no!

We debated whether or not to go to the famous Blue Lagoon, walk-in price £35 each plus an hour‘ drive. In the end we didn‘t go but, for a fraction of the cost, (less than £4 each) we strolled to the nearby Laugardalslaug public swimming pool complex. The air temperature was about 11° C. The water temperature in the open-air pool was about mid-30°s C. and in the ‘hotpots‘ around the edge hotter still. There is no chlorine in the geothermally heated water and a stern attendant makes sure you shower thoroughly i.e. naked and with soap. Foreigners are notoriously slack about this, in Icelandic eyes. But what a fabulous facility to enjoy, for an extremely low price.

The second day trip was the South Shore tour. More wonders of nature. We started with a mini-tour of our guide‘s home town, Hveragerði, in an area so geothermally active that the steam comes up out of the ground everywhere. There are greenhouses over the heat, and the town is famous for flowers and a geothermal restaurant. On a more gruesome note, it has no cemetery, as the underground conditions are not suitable for interring bodies. Just outside the post office, in the shopping centre, you can look down to the rift between the North American and Eurasian tectonic plates.

We carried on out into the countryside, driving past the infamous Eyjafjallajökull whose emissions grounded air traffic in May 2010. As a linguist, I have made it my mission to pronounce this word correctly. The name means ‘glacier‘ (or more properly ‘ice cap‘) of the Eyjafjöll. The word jökull, meaning glacier or ice cap, is a cognate with the Middle English word ikel surviving in the -icle of English ‘icicle’. We were bombarded with facts about volcanoes, glaciers, seismic shifts and other apocalyptic events which have occurred from time to time. We drove within sight of the Westman Islands, scene of a month-long volcanic eruption in 1973, which was eventually doused with 6.8 billion litres of cold sea water.
Our guide walked us up to the very edge of the Sólheimajökull glacier. Unfortunately, its surface was dirty but, in places, you could discern the startling blue ice underneath. He brings visitors out to see it regularly and gloomily concluded that it was shrinking, almost before his eyes.

The last stopping place on this tour was the black sand beach at Höfðabrekka which you might recognise from the last scene of the film Noah, where Russell Crowe gets drunk. It was also used for Frostfangs scenes in Game of Thrones. Volcanic action has led to stunning rock formations, but the stars of the show are the puffins. Impossibly cute, they perch atop the cliffs in their nesting areas before launching themselves laboriously out to sea to find food for their pufflings.

Our last full city day was a little more relaxed. We saw the Settlement Exhibition with its special display of some original saga manuscripts. These national treasures can still be read and understood today. My husband was keen to go whale watching. I would not pay money to go onto any sort of marine craft unless my life depended on it, so we split up for the afternoon. He told me later that he enjoyed the boat trip, but that they had only fleeting glimpses of the animals, guided by a spotter high up on an observation platform. Faxafloi Bay is not an aquarium; the whales were not putting on a Seaworld display of tumbling. One fun fact was the ‘stinky minke‘. Apparently, you can smell the bad breath of a minke whale long before you see it. The whale watching company, Elding, gave us a voucher for money off in their (whale-friendly) restaurant.

Meanwhile, I was amusing myself on Laugavegur. For the first time, I bought an item tax free, at the suggestion of the shop owner. As Iceland is outside the EU, you can fill in a form and hand it in at the airport on the way home. That fur hat will feel all the cosier when those extra few pounds are refunded onto my credit card. I enjoyed lobster soup for lunch at the Sægreifinn (‘Seabaron‘) restaurant, as explored by Ainsley Harriott in the Reykjavik episode of his Streetfood series. Icelandic lobster is really crayfish, but none the less tasty for that.
Our third day trip was the classic Golden Circle excursion. There are three major stopping points. The first is the magnificent double waterfall of Gullfoss (‘golden waterfall‘). In Iceland, you can get blasé about waterfalls, but Gullfoss is a beauty. In the visitor centre car park, I saw my first ever public toilet with a credit card reader at the entrance. Very occasionally, a charge of 100 kr. (about 60p) was levied for a public or service station toilet. At Gullfoss and, later, at Þingvellir, the city fathers had decided that 200kr, about £1.20, was appropriate, possibly because there was no other option to extract money from tourists on such open sites.

The second stop was the geothermal area at Geysir. The eponymous geyser has not gushed for many years, but its companion, Strokkur, entertained and occasionally soaked the crowd. Elsewhere on the site, boiling pools plopped and seethed. A smell of sulphur hung in the air.

The third stop was the rift valley at Þingvellir (‘parliament fields‘). Viewers of ‘The Vikings‘ will remember that Ragnar and his companions periodically travelled to the ‘Thing‘ or assembly. Iceland‘s first parliament was founded here in 930 AD. The rift valley marks the crest of the Mid-Atlantic Ridge, where the North American and Eurasian tectonic plates are pulling apart. Once again, spectacular scenery with mind-boggling statistics underpinning it.
On the very last day, our flight was not until late afternoon, so we strolled over to the beautifully tended Botanical Gardens. The temperature had crept up to a balmy 14° and some Icelanders were in lightweight summer jackets. The floral displays reminded me of municipal planting in Scotland, quite a lot further south than this island which flirts with the Arctic Circle.

Our journey home was uneventful. The pick-up service worked perfectly and we had plenty of time to enjoy the superb facilities and shopping of Keflavik Airport, not forgetting to hand in the paperwork for my purchase tax refund. A tip: counter-intuitively, the airport shopping really is cheaper than in the city! Our return flight was too late for the last train, so we spent a night at the immaculate and good-value Premier Inn at Gatwick North Terminal. Sadly, Lenny Henry was not there to turn down the covers.

The midnight sun was quite something. I am used to late summer nights, but it was strange to go to bed at 11.30pm in perfect daylight. The Secret Solstice rock festival was in town over the weekend. No need for the rockers to stay up all night. They had 72 hours of daylight.

What were my overall impressions of Iceland and the world‘s most northerly capital city? Our day trips took us to a relatively small area in the south-east of the country. Thrill-seekers and geology aficionados have a lot more to explore further west. Reykjavik is not big; the population of the capital city area is less than that of the London Borough of Camden. It offers more than enough sightseeing, shopping and dining for a long weekend, but that is probably long enough for Reykjavik itself. 

It is interesting to chart the rapid rise of Reykjavik from a collection of fishing huts to a 21st century capital city. Many traces of its humble beginnings remain, not least in old corrugated-iron fronted cottages next to ultra-modern multi-storey buildings. There are no railways, and no MacDonalds. However, there is an app for everything, including incest prevention. (You can log into the genealogical database and check how closely-related you are to your new date.) They refuse to import the word ‘computer‘ and call it tölva or ‘number prophetess‘. It is an almost cashless society, down to the overpriced public toilets at national beauty spots. Everyone knows everyone else. You are called by your first name (all three tour guides came into the hotel asking for ‘Elizabeth‘), even in the phone book. Your second name shows that you are someone‘s ‘son‘ or dóttir. All in all, a fascinating blend of the old and the new.

And that‘s why this mum went to Iceland!

First published in VISA 123 (October 2015)

Pixies, Ponies, Trolls and Goblins

by Rachel Kruft Welton

The flight from Gatwick took about 4 hours. We picked up the hire car and drove up from Reykjavik to the northern coast of Iceland. We had booked a cottage for 2 weeks in a village called Blonduos. As we soon found out, no-one had ever stayed that long in Blonduos before, and we quickly became local celebrities recognised wherever we went.

Local houses with turf roofs

The wooden cottage we stayed in was small, but warm and comfortable. The warmth was particularly useful when the day after we arrived the temperature dropped to minus 10C with a minus 10 wind-chill and it started to snow. I felt particularly betrayed by the sales brochure which had promised the June temperatures in Iceland to be around 13 - 15 degrees. I bought a thick woolly green scarf, and we drove off around the coast to look at the scenery. Northern Iceland is spectacular. There are virtually no trees so the bones of the country are exposed. The way the clouds move and light changes across the land catches your attention, and there is an incredible sense of space. There are snow-capped peaks at every turn rising starkly out of the lava bedrock. I fell in love with it.

There is only one main road. It circles Iceland and is tarmacked most of the way round. The rest of it is packed dirt. Shaggy sheep and wanton ponies wander at random across the road, daring you to hit them (compensation is payable by the driver to the farmer). There are no edges to the road and frequently there may be a drop of several hundred feet on one side, with nothing to tell you where the edge is in the fog except for widely spaced reflectors on small poles. There are other numbered roads too, and if the sign says "4-wheel drive only" then it really means it. The better roads are deep gravel and stone, with potholes you could lose your car in, and often have streams or small rivers running across them.

The weather improved after the first few days and it stayed at around 11 -15 degrees C for the rest of our stay. The locals came out in daring T-shirts (we carried on wearing our coats) and some of them asked us if we'd been about for the unusual snowstorm the weekend before. I forgave the travel brochure for its weather misinformation, and Nick and I went horse riding.

Riding Dimmi

Nick had not been on a horse since an unfortunate incident in Finland the year before, so he was particularly nervous. It didn't help when the horses were introduced as Dimmi (translating as Dusky) and Krappy (which apparently means Slushy Snow). Nick's feet nearly met under the pony's belly (Nick is 6'4") and his riding hat had to be tied on with string as his head was too large. Nick's plaintive cry to let him get off was ignored by our cheerful guide who didn't speak English. This may have been a good thing in the long run as once again the scenery was spectacular.

We rode down along the river Blonduos between two towering mountain ranges. Icelandic ponies are sure-footed and hardy, and wonderfully patient. Nick trailed behind, wary of encouraging Krappy to move faster than a walk. Krappy didn't seem to care, happy to go at Nick's pace. Nick slowly regained his confidence, and we both enjoyed ourselves.

In general the tourist industry hasn't really got the idea yet in Iceland. It takes a fair amount of courage to drive up to what looks like an abandoned warehouse, under the eyes of all the local children, knock on the door, and ask if there just happens to be an ancient shark-fishing vessel in there. As it happened, there was a whole museum of artefacts, from the first car in Iceland to shoes made out of fish-skin. Iceland does that to you a lot - you thought it was just an isolated petrol station on an empty road, but underneath it there is a whole shopping centre where you can buy sweets, woolly jumpers, travel maps, works by a local painter and some postcards to send home. It is incredibly expensive though. Nearly everything is imported and the prices are through the roof - take plenty of spending cash.

Up in a town called Husavik there are whale watching tours out into the Arctic Sea. They claim to have a 96% success rate, which naturally I didn't believe until we got out into the far reaches of the bay. There is something magical about seeing the giants of the ocean. I have seen, with my own eyes. We saw about 6 minke whales before we were honoured by a display of the collective talents of a school of dolphins. They threw themselves out of the water racing in front of the boat, showing off, twisting and turning. I honestly think they were having more fun than the watchers. The boat staff provided warm mittens and hot coffee towards the end of the trip, just when we needed it. I came away feeling as though nothing could top the experience.

Further round the coast from Husavik and a few miles inland is a valley in the shape of a horseshoe. It goes by the name of Asbyrgi and it is said to be a hoof print of Sleipnir the 8-legged steed of the Norse God Odin. It has hundred foot cliffs, a haven for nesting seabirds. Their calls echo around the valley. It is also one of the rare sheltered places in Iceland and consequently it is full of dwarf silver birch trees, undergrowth and mosses. That and the constant calls of the birds create a magical atmosphere where trolls and goblins might find shelter. It is a truly unforgettable place.

Reluctantly we drove further inland along a cinder road only just reopened after the winter. They must get through a lot of hire-cars in Iceland, that or there's a hot trade in new suspension systems. Eventually we got to Dettifoss, the most powerful waterfall in Europe. It thunders down between the sheer sides of a gully. You can feel the vibrations in your chest. In some respects it puts Niagara to shame - maybe because the Icelandic token towards tourism was a couple of organic looking toilets, and a flattish bit of rock to park on. There were no souvenir shops or restaurants, not even a kiosk to buy postcards from. It was genuinely unspoilt, and I appreciated that.

We struggled on down the road, occasionally getting up into third gear. I was glad to reach the main road again. The next stop was a volcano just outside the famous area of Myvatn. Myvatn means 'midge lake'. It is a green and beautiful area, with mounds of moss, and spiky boulders of lava sticking up out of the lake. The volcano caught my imagination though. It is supposed to be dormant, but the steam rising from the vents (fumeroles) makes you wonder. From the top you can see just where the black lava flowed last time it erupted, complete with flow marks like setting chocolate or icing-sugar on a cake. On the side of the mountain there are pools of boiling sulphurous mud, with cute little signs telling you not to stick your foot in there.

One word of warning: if you ever come to Iceland, all the heating and hot water is powered by geothermal energy. In practise this means the water smells faintly of sulphur, which adds an interesting counterpoint to tea and coffee, and turns all your silver jewellery black. The tarnish does wear off eventually, but the Gods only know how Thor kept his hammer shiny!

We experienced another reason why geothermal energy is so convenient when we went white-water rafting down one of the glacial rivers so common in this part of the world. The rafting was fairly exciting without being too challenging. The water, as with all glacial rivers was a luminescent turquoise colour. Half way down, just as we were starting to get cold, we pulled the rafts over to the bank and the guides pulled a box out of a small cave in the ground. It had all the equipment for making cocoa in it, and the hot spring nearby produced near-boiling water, to provide the last ingredient. Set up for the rest of the journey, we accepted the challenge of leaping off a cliff-face into the river. It looks a lot further down from up there. I was sorry when the trip was over.

Back in Blonduos we walked on the black basalt beach and saw the midnight sun hanging in the sky with the full moon on the summer solstice. It never did get dark the whole time we were there. It was time to go. We waved goodbye, filled up with petrol, and pulled out of the petrol station up to the roundabout. With a sudden shock I realised I was on the wrong side of the road. A puzzled looking local drove past, recognised us and waved. I pulled out on to the roundabout, and Nick pointed out that I was also going round the roundabout the wrong way. I wobbled merrily onto the right side of the road, and with this final piece of excruciating driving we left Blonduos and headed for Reykjavik.

Reykjavik looks like pixie town from a distance. All the roofs of the houses are a different colour - red, green, blue - dotted about on the slopes. There are a couple of shopping streets in Reykjavik, which makes it a veritable metropolis in Icelandic terms. The prices as everywhere were extortionate. A pint of beer or glass of wine cost about £5. Rumour has it that Icelanders take weekend shopping sprees to Glasgow, which cover the cost of their flight. I can believe it. Having said that, I liked Reykjavik. It was relaxed, the people were friendly and went out of their way to help us. We dropped off the car and were picked up early in the morning by the transfer bus, which took us to the airport.

We left Iceland with the feeling that we'd not seen the half of it. I think we'll go back one day, and try to see some more of it. I would not choose to stay in one place for the duration next time, rather I could move from one guesthouse to the next. Whether I do make it back or not, it was a place I shall never forget.

First published in VISA issue 31 (winter 1998)

Land of Fire and Ice

By Maxine Bates

On Friday 13 March a group of 13 Mensans – good thing we are not superstitious! – flew to Iceland for the weekend. We had booked a bargain break via the web on www.icelandair.co.uk costing from £199 per person including return scheduled flights from either Manchester or Heathrow and three nights accommodation at the Cabin Hotel in Reykjavik.

Despite arriving at the hotel around 2.00am on the Saturday morning, we were all up bright and early to explore the capital. The 20 minute walk into the city centre from our hotel passed the Hofoi House where Ronald Reagan and Mikhail Gorbachev held their nuclear summit in 1986. As the building is now used for government receptions, it is closed to the public. We purchased 24 hour Reykjavik tourist cards from the helpful staff at the visitor information centre, which entitled us to entry to several museums and public baths as well as free public transport. The card cost around £10 which, at Icelandic prices, we felt was a bargain.

First stop was the Hallgrimskirkja which is Reykjavik’s landmark church with its 240 ft high steeple, but unfortunately closed for refurbishment and surrounded by scaffolding at the time of our visit. We did see the statue of Leifur Eriksson outside; Iceland’s greatest explorer, who is said to have reached America long before Colombus and whose statue gazes towards the American continent.

We then began our tour of museums and were delighted to find free cloakrooms where we could store our coats, hats, scarves and gloves whilst visiting. At the Settlement Museum we saw the oldest man-made structure in Reykjavik; a low turf wall that would have been used to enclose an animal pen. Displays around the museum walls told the story of the first Icelanders and how they used to live and work. The National Museum covers several floors and depicts Icelandic history and culture from the first settlers to the present day. We particularly enjoyed the dressing up room where we tried on traditional costumes and Viking armour!

We then walked around Lake Tjornin which lies in the centre of the city. The lake is home to many species of bird and panels around the lake give details. After a bite of lunch – Subway and a nearby pizza restaurant were the most reasonably priced eateries we could find – we headed to the Culture House. Although one floor was closed, the main attraction of the world famous Sagas was still open. These manuscripts from the 12th and 13th centuries relate Icelandic stories and are displayed in temperature-controlled dimly lit rooms to preserve them. The Culture House also contains the table and chess board where Bobby Fischer (USA) and Boris Spassky (USSR) played their infamous chess match in 1972. The pieces are set out in the final winning position.

Some of us then hurried to the Volcano Show where we found ourselves to be the only customers and were given a discount of 400 kronurs on the ticket price. The attraction is a small old-fashioned cinema in what looked to be someone’s garage and is a film show about the seismic activity in Iceland shot by a father and son team since 1947. The son, Villi Knudsen, was there to take our money and give us a short talk prior to the film. Some of our group then went shopping - although I suspect only the window variety – and some of us walked back to the hotel along the waterfront viewing the Solfar Suncraft en route. This is a sculpture of a Viking longboat made from stainless steel and across the bay we could see snowcapped Mount Esja. Late afternoon was spent at Laugardalur which is the largest thermal pool in the city and a short walk from our hotel. We sat in the heated water whilst snowflakes fell on our head!

On the Sunday we had arranged car hire to drive around the ‘Golden Circle’. During the day we had a mix of heavy snow, rain, hail, wind and brilliant sunshine but with studded tyres and good maps coped well. The National Park at Þingvellir is the location of the original parliament. Established in 930 AD it is reputed to be the oldest parliament in the world (though the Isle of Man dispute this!) Entrance is free, there’s a viewing platform and information panels. Although not many buildings exist, you can see the flagpole marking the spot where the speaker stood and, behind it, the rift wall where the two continental plates of North America and Europe meet. 12½ miles to the north east lies the geothermal area of Geysir; home to the original geysir from which all other spurting blowholes derive their name. Geysir now only erupts every 4-8 months but luckily nearby Strokkur erupts every few minutes delighting tourists with spurts of water up to 66 ft high. The whole area is once again free to enter and covered with bubbling mud pools, steaming vents and boiling pools of brilliant blue water. We ate lunch in the café before returning to view Strokkur again. About four miles along the road, we reached Gulfoss. These spectacular waterfalls are 1¼ miles long and drop 105 ft into the canyon below. In winter visitors have a completely white vista of snow, ice and water. And once again this natural phenomenon is free to view. Unlike the coach tours that cost four times as much as we paid per person for car hire, we were able to stop at Kerid to walk around this volcanic crater and descend into the frozen lake at the bottom. We were also able to slightly detour on the way back to see the village of Hverageri with its geothermally heated greenhouses where Icelanders are trying to cultivate their own fruit and vegetables, mainly mushrooms.

In the evening we drove the short distance to the Perlan. The complex, on a hill overlooking the capital, consists of six huge tanks that store the geothermally heated water that supplies the city. One of the tanks has now been emptied and converted into a museum and a glass dome has been added over the tanks to house shops, a café and a revolving restaurant. One revolution takes two hours giving us ample time to enjoy a four course meal. Menus can be found at www.perlan.is and I’d thoroughly recommend the set menu as this works out much cheaper (around £30) than selecting from the a la carte (where a dessert can cost £10). On a Sunday it was very quiet though reservations are necessary on a Saturday evening.

You can’t visit Iceland without taking a dip in the waters of the famous Blue Lagoon. This is a geothermally heated seawater pool in a lava field. You can feel the mud on the bottom oozing between your toes and slap therapeutic mud on your body or alternatively just sit on benches in the 36-39 C water all year round. There is also a sauna, steam room and cascading waterfall. The water really is blue – though turning gradually greener due to the algae – and makes a stunning setting against the snow covered mountains. As the Blue Lagoon is a 20 minute drive from Keflavik airport Reykjavik Excursions (www.re.is) offer airport transfers from your hotel that include a couple of hours at this top tourist attraction and will store luggage on their coach. Departures from the city centre are around 11.00 am, arriving at the Blue Lagoon before midday and departing again at 2.15pm in order to meet the check-in times for Icelandair flights.

Although Iceland is hideously expensive, following their banking crisis it is a cheaper destination than previously. Be warned that local currency is suspended so UK bureaux de change and banks can no longer obtain it once their stocks have depleted. We all thoroughly enjoyed our packed weekend in colder climes and would recommend Iceland for a winter break.

First published in VISA 85 (Jun 2009)