Little by little, one travels far.
JRR Tolkien
It is 10 PM on a cold, wintry night in Snaefellsnes, Iceland. I am seated cross-legged on a couch in the quaint cottage I had rented for the trip. The wind rocks the cottage walls, howling gusts that seem to strengthen by the hour. In my hand is a book, and on the small wooden table beside me is a cup of tea.
Around midnight, I stood and padded my way to the front door. With hopes of seeing the aurora, I step onto the small patio to gaze at the night sky. All that stared back was a canvas of glittering stars and the steam rising from my breath. My oversized parka provided little reprieve from the chilling wind; I wouldn’t stay out there long; the cold was too bitter, and the night too quiet and lonesome.
Eventually, I would make my way back inside the cottage to my book, tea, and a candle until I fell asleep. I would sleep in until the sun rose and have a slow start to the next day.
This is how I spent most of my second trip to Iceland, yet it was the most memorable one to date. I had booked the trip expecting to see the northern lights, purposely choosing one of the country’s darkest and most remote areas. It was my first time in Iceland in the winter, and nothing could have prepared me for the cruel reality of the weather reigning queen here.
When my flight arrived early in the morning during a snowstorm, the wind took my scarf, never to be seen again, and I was forced to wheel my luggage through a foot of snow on the tarmac. If you have ever tried wheeling luggage through snow, you understand how arduous this can be. I had plans, but Mother Nature had hers, too.
The short days and unruly weather proved difficult to explore, and my first few days were spent exploring local sights such as the Budir Lava field and Kirkjufell, the iconic arrowhead mountain. It was the third day that Iceland’s nature taught me a lesson.
Against my better judgment, I decided to go on a hike when wind gusts threatened to reach 65 MPH. The second I stepped out onto the lava field, a gust of wind took me and knocked me over, sending me several feet from where I had been standing. Panic set in when I realized I couldn’t stand up. I was now facing the Icelandic wind, an impossible opponent. Left with no choice, I crawled back into the car, realizing I had made a bad decision that put my life in danger.
When I reached the car, the battle was not over. I had to open the door. With seconds to spare, I slipped inside the car, but not without considerable damage to my rental vehicle. It was my most expensive trip to Iceland to date, and I was lucky to have gotten out of the situation safely. Lesson #1. Take out all the insurance coverage, but more importantly, stay inside when the weather is bad in Iceland. Just don’t risk it.
Oddly enough I left the country even more enthralled with it. Perhaps it was my time in contemplation that meant so much to me, or it was just the desire to see the Aurora, but something pulled me back.
Now, as I sit here readying myself to return to Iceland for the eight-time and longest trip, this trip stands out the most.
My entire year has revolved around this trip. I sacrificed, worked hard, sold belongings, and did whatever I had to do to afford the extended stay and make the best of it, including buying new camera equipment.
A few weeks ago, I began to plan my days, which began with drawing a calendar that I would fill in with a daily itinerary. That is when the anxiety kicked in. Before I knew it, I stood at the dining room table, staring at the scattered papers and map and saying, “I am canceling this entire thing. I can’t do this.”
My mind was racing with questions like, “How will I take the perfect puffin picture?” “How will I get all the drone shots I want?” “How will I get here and then there?” and “How will I create all this content?” The list goes on and on.
When I traveled to Iceland in 2021, I had no camera or drone. In fact, I barely shared anything on social media about the trip besides the occasional check-in. I had a map and a van and no itinerary.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I love photography and videography. And for much, as it does bring us grief at times, I enjoy social media and drawing inspiration from other photographers. I love the moments of taking the picture and then bringing the story to life with words or a post to share. I love doing this because I love it, and I enjoy sharing with others in the hopes the story inspires them. However, I am a perfectionist and put tremendous pressure on myself.
Travel is no longer just travel but a performance that we must show online; otherwise, did it really happen? Which brings me to this: How can one balance the two? When I adventured to the top of a glacier volcano in April with Midgard Adventure, I had the option to fly my drone or just be and enjoy the moment. Some days, I regret not taking drone footage of that, but in the end, the memory is what really should matter to me.
We are not present when we are behind a phone, a camera, a drone, or whatever it is. There were so many times in Iceland I witnessed something breathtaking, and I could have taken my camera out, but I chose not to because I knew that moment was just for me, and if I spent time distracted, I might miss it. This is where the balance comes in. When photographing Arctic Foxes, I took moments where I just observed them. So, for this trip, I decided to list the important things to capture, and the rest I will resist the urge to.
When I told my Icelandic friend today, I was thinking about canceling my trip, she exclaimed, “What? Why?” I confessed my pressures and expectations. She replied, “I think if you are going to keep coming to Iceland, you need to act like an Icelander and stop planning everything. Let the day guide you. If you are tired, then rest. If you feel good and the weather is good, go hiking and explore. Find your enjoyment based on the weather.”
She is right.
I recalled that winter trip when Iceland stole my scarf and confined me to a cottage for days. Then, back to last August, when a storm thwarted my plans to head south, and I had to stay at a farm in the north for three nights. Although I missed out on a few new sights I wanted to explore, those three days with the sheep and the foxes were some of the best days of my life.
So, as difficult as it is, I am putting the calendar away, not packing my travel clock, and instead saying þetta reddast.
Tips to enjoy Iceland
I am often asked questions about what to see in Iceland or if ten days is enough time to drive the Ring Road.
- If you go to Iceland, please slow down. Remember to rest your first day there because driving in a foreign country on little sleep is neither safe nor a good way to start an adventure.
- Pick just a few things to do each day, limit it to three, and always have a backup plan.
- If you plan on visiting in the winter, I suggest booking a tour like this one. This way, you get a little of everything and at least connect with other travelers, which has really enriched my life.
- Allow for more drive time ALL year, especially in the winter and West Fjords areas, as the roads are very windy.
- Take advantage of rest stops.
- Overall, slow down and just be.
Iceland is beautiful, but her real beauty lies in what you cannot see but feel in the heart. Trust me on this one.
The best piece of advice I can give you for Iceland is to experience it, don’t expect anything- even if she steals your scarf.
and P.S. Winter in Iceland is still my favorite!
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