Iceland
This one-hour special begins in Reykjavík, with endearing sights and thermal pools, plus a side-trip to the Golden Circle's gorges, geysers, and waterfalls. Then, after fording rivers in a desolate valley and spotting puffins on volcano-shaped islands, we drive the 800-mile Ring Road — connecting glaciers, fjords, geothermal hotspots, sod-roofed settlements, and majestic Icelandic nature.
Script
Hi, I'm Rick Steves on the wild, western fringe of Europe. It's Iceland…the land of thunderous waterfalls, fiery volcanoes…and the midnight sun. With a resilient culture and epic natural thrills…we'll see why this little island is so dang popular. Thanks for joining us!
To fully experience Iceland, we start in the capital city, Reykjavík, then day-trip deep into the blustery interior to sample the power of nature on the famed Golden Circle, and then we do the epic road trip: Iceland's 800-mile Ring Road circling this unforgettable island.
Reykjavík, with its landmark church, ruddy urban charm, and determined cultural life is our springboard. After soaking with the locals in a thermal pool and enjoying an Icelandic feast we do the famous Golden Circle day trip — we'll see the gorge where Europe meets America, thrill under the original "geyser," and feel the spray of a thundering waterfall. Then we hit the road — the Ring Road — and circle the entire island. With help from Cameron Hewitt, my friend and fellow guidebook author, we'll do it all: exploring waterfalls…hiking through steaming geothermal fields…cruising lagoons bobbing with icebergs…fording glacial rivers…gathering eggs local-style…and wandering evocative black-sand beaches. We'll chase rainbows…elusive whales…roaming horses…and the cutest puffins.
Iceland, about the size of Virginia with just 400,000 people, sits between Greenland and Norway. From Reykjavík, after the Golden Circle day trip, we hit the Ring Road. We explore the South Coast, side-tripping up Thórsmörk valley and sailing to the Westman Islands. After Vík, we see glacial lagoons, the rugged Eastfjords, geothermal hot zones around Lake Mývatn, the fishing village of Húsavík in the far north, and Snæfellsnes Peninsula before finishing back where we started.
Reykjavík, by far the biggest city in the country, is still small — about the size of Berkeley…or Fargo. With a hardscrabble heritage and a vibrant culture, today it offers a tourist-friendly mix of old and new.
While short on world-class sights, Reykjavík certainly has an urban vitality, with plenty of restaurants and shopping to keep visitors entertained. It's unexpectedly cosmopolitan, with an artistic, bohemian flair.
And it's blustery. Iceland can be cold even in summer — this is a typical day in July…and so is this. If you don't like the weather…just wait a few minutes.
Reykjavík's neighborhoods are enlivened by street art. A blank wall will just be tagged with graffiti anyway, so instead, homeowners hire talented street artists to create colorful murals.
It seems every street leads to the Hallgríms Church crowning a hill in the town center.
Designed by Iceland's state architect in the 1930s, the church represents the national style. Stark and utilitarian, yet beautiful, it evokes the island's volcanic landscape. Stairstep gables echo Iceland's basalt cliffs.
The interior is…Lutheran, serene and austere: The glass is clear, not stained…and the altar is a simple table.
An elevator whisks visitors to the top of the tower for panoramic views over all of Reykjavík. Two out of every three Icelanders lives within sight of this steeple.
In front of the church stands a statue of Leif Erikson. Born here in Iceland, this Viking explorer is believed to be the first European to set foot in the Americas — about five centuries before Christopher Columbus.
The modern sculpture called The Sea Voyager is an homage to those Scandinavian adventurers who — beginning in the ninth century — loaded up their ships, set sail into an uncharted ocean, and brought civilization to this uninhabited island.
Iceland, so harsh and desolate…steaming with volcanoes…was settled over a thousand years ago by early Norse farmers. Imagine…the original Icelanders…hardy folk…eking out a living on remote farms and living in isolation. They chronicled their lives in "the Sagas" — a blending of historical record, tall tales, and legends.
From the age of the Vikings the country grew slowly. But by the mid-1700s all of Iceland still had only about 50,000 people…and Reykjavík was just a big farm. As trade — mostly fishing — increased and towns began to form, Reykjavík emerged as the capital city.
The National Museum collects artifacts from these early days of Iceland.
A society made of wood doesn't leave much behind. But a few exquisite items — like these ornamental horns, and these whalebone carvings—survive.
Pagan Iceland converted to Christianity in about the year 1000.
Until relatively modern times, Icelandic settlers lived in rustic cottages.
Existence may have been bleak, but families were tight-knit. Many Icelanders lived simple lives — much like this — until the early 20th century.
Life was tied to the sea. Icelanders sailed in open boats, fished for cod, and hunted shark for their valuable liver oil.
More and more, symbols like an official national costume and its own flag demonstrated a growing sense of Icelandic national identity.
Iceland remained part of Denmark through the 1800s. Iceland-born politician Jón Sigurðsson lobbied in Copenhagen for independence — which Denmark finally granted in 1918.
Iceland's parliament — called the Althing — may seem humble. But it represents a thousand-year journey in this society from rustic farmsteads to today's modern, democratic nation.
For locals, Parliament Square remains a place to make your voice heard…or to just hang out.
Reykjavík still has a hardworking harbor, busy with both industrial vessels and sightseeing boats.
And, in just the last generation, boldly modern condos and office towers show how today's Iceland is charging into the future.
And a fine example of that is the super-modern concert hall, called Harpa.
In the lobby, the sky reflects like you're inside a giant honeycombed prism. This extravagant use of space — and glass — put Iceland on the world architectural map when it opened in 2011. Welcoming the public, a hit with locals and tourists, and busy with conferences and concerts, Harpa is the hub of the country's cultural and community activity.
This island is proud of its homegrown artists — especially the sculptor Einar Jónsson, who in the early 1900s was inspired by Rodin.
A welcoming sculpture garden is filled with his bronze works.
Inside the Einar Jónsson museum are the plaster originals. Jónsson's works are intense and emotive. You'll see Viking warriors…bold explorers…protective women…and lots of drama. He blended elements of Christianity, Old Norse legend, Greek mythology, and his own belief that every person contains at least a kernel of goodness. A visit here reminds us that even small countries produce talented artists, like Jónsson, worth getting to know.
For a peek at the city's everyday charms and more insight into the culture, I'm joined by local tour guide Saga Friðriksdóttir, a Reykjavík native who loves showing off her hometown.
Rick: Saga, I love Iceland, but this language is impossible for me. How can any tourist remember that?
Saga: Oh. Well, I mean Skólavörðustígur.
Rick: Skólavörðustígur.
Saga: Yeah, it's pretty hard, but you know we all speak English as well.
Rick: Thank you.
Saga: Yeah.
Rick (to pedestrian): Good morning.
Saga: Yeah.
Rick: This street makes me happy.
Saga: Very happy. Very colorful. Dedicated to gay pride. But also a reminder that Iceland is much for…just equality and human rights. And this is always Rainbow Street. Yes.
Rick: So in the summer, days are very long. But in the winter…what is it like in the winter?
Saga: Well, cold and very, very dark. But we have these beautiful, colorful houses. that really characterizes Reykjavík. They brighten up our days in winter. And also, you notice we have a lot of corrugated iron that clothe these wooden houses, which was a revolutionary material because it protected the houses from this crazy Icelandic weather.
Rick: I'm sure historically, this is a society that has dealt with hardships.
Saga: Oh, yeah, for sure. Definitely. But we have a strong mentality and there's actually a saying in Iceland: Thetta reddast.
Rick: Thetta reddast.
Saga: Thetta reddast. Yes and it basically just means, "It's going to be fine. Don't worry about it. It's gonna work out."
On weekends, the downtown flea market is a characteristic and mostly local shopping scene.
Rick: This is really a fun place.
And don't miss those famous Icelandic sweaters…
Rick: I don't do a lot of shopping, but when it comes to the Nordic countries, I like a sweater. Oh, that's beautiful. So, Saga, this really feels like good wool.
Saga: I mean, we consider it to be the best wool in the world.
Rick: This is like Icelandic sheep.
Saga: Proper Icelandic sheep wool, yes.
Rick: And what is special? Because it feels a little special.
Saga: Well, I guess because they've been roaming freely in Iceland since 874. They know how to deal with rough Icelandic weather, and they give us the perfect clothing for that.
Rick: Oh, yeah. Do you think it's good?
Clerk: Yes.
Saga: It's very good.
Rick: Good. I like it because it feels it has history.
Clerk: It's warm and good, you see you. <<points to mirror for Rick>>
Saga: Wow.
Rick: Oh, look at that. Yeah.
Saga: You look like a local.
Rick: I feel like a local. I can speak Icelandic.
Saga: Haha, yes.
The flea market is also a place where you can sample some unique Icelandic tastes.
As the early Icelanders settled this untamed island, they resorted to many "hardship foods."
Rick: So, when we come to Iceland, everybody has to try the shark.
Saga: They have to try the shark. Definitely. I mean, this is the famous Greenland shark.
Rick: This is shark. Fermented shark.
Saga: Fermented shark. Yeah. Because if you would eat the shark straight away, you know, when it's fresh, you would die, unfortunately.
Rick: You would die?
Saga: Yes, it is toxic.
Rick: So how did you ferment this?
Saga: So you chop it in pieces, you bury it in the ground for some time and then hang it up. And you get rid of the ammonia, or like the urine basically, which is the toxins. And I always think like, how many tries did it take to figure out this method, of not getting killed by eating the shark?
Rick: That just stokes my appetite. Is it possible to try some?
Saga: You have to try it. There's some pieces here.
Rick: I'm gonna put this piece of shark down.
Saga: There you go. And this is usually how it comes, like in small pieces. So you're more than welcome to have a piece or two if you fancy it.
Rick: <<laughs and takes a bite>>
Saga: Give it a good chew.
Rick: Wow. Now that is very fishy right now.
Saga: Yes. Wait for the aftertaste.
Rick: Yeah. My goodness. Now it's like you just get swept over with ammonia.
Saga: Right? And usually you're supposed to drink it with the Black Death schnapps. Brandy wine.
Rick: Ah, some aquavit, some firewater.
Saga: Yes, please have some.
Rick: Oh baby, that is…unforgettable.
Saga: Yeah. But now you tried the famous Icelandic shark.
Rick: The aftertaste…I just feel like I've been in a gas station or something.
Tourist group doing a bite together: One, two, three, go!
Iceland is a volcanic island — it's formed at the rift where the European and North American tectonic plates are pulling apart. That's why there's a chain of active volcanoes, hot springs, and steam vents like this cutting right through the center of the country.
Visitors come to Iceland hoping to see a volcanic eruption. But big, dramatic eruptions — that casual visitors can actually get up close to and see — are very rare.
But exploring this island does come with plenty of steamy serendipity. Like roadside attractions, bubbling mud holes gurgle with molten muck. Vents spew steam, and as the fog clears from your glasses, suddenly you're interested in geology!
The entire island is shaped by lava from past eruptions. Dark, chunky lava rock blanketed by cushy moss covers much of Iceland's surface, giving the countryside a desolate, almost lunar feel.
And the Icelanders have ingeniously harnessed their endless supply of green energy. Geothermal plants, in the middle of nowhere, are hard at work…boring deep into the earth's crust to tap into hot water. And pipelines carry that super-heated water through miles of countryside to heat and power Reykjavík and other communities.
Despite the chill, houses are toasty. In fact, you'll notice many small windows propped open. Because that geothermal heat is so cheap, people don't even bother turning down the radiator. They just crack the window.
The most enjoyable use for Iceland's hot water is its thermal pools. And the most famous spa is 45 minutes outside Reykjavík: The Blue Lagoon.
Years ago, a geothermal plant began dumping its hot, mineral-rich wastewater into this lava landscape. Locals discovered it was a great place to take a dip. Developers then transformed it into a high-end spa. Today, Iceland's top tourist attraction is close to the airport and a popular first or last stop for visitors.
The Blue Lagoon is a lavish spa…but it's extremely touristy and you sure won't meet many Icelanders here. But, the good news: you have plenty of alternatives that are just as relaxing…the community thermal pools.
The Blue Lagoon is popular. But it's expensive — about ten times the cost of a pool like this. You can luxuriate in the Blue Lagoon, or you can soak with the locals in a neighborhood pool…the choice is yours. Today, I'm soakin' local.
Fed by natural thermal springs, the main pool is bathwater-warm. Waterslides, cascades, and kids' zones keep locals entertained. This is where Icelanders meet up after work to connect with friends and family. I can't think of a better way to meet the locals.
And for the ultimate in relaxation, hundred-degree hot pots simmer nearby. Soaking together is a great equalizer — student, truck driver, doctor, and tourist — everybody's equal in the pool.
Iceland is all about the great outdoors. But, if the weather's bad — as it often is — several indoor sights here in Reykjavík offer a taste of the majesty of Iceland without leaving the capital city.
At the edge of town is a one-stop way to experience the country's top natural wonders — at least virtually — under one roof…The Pearl.
Exhibits feature fiery volcanoes…with majestic footage that gives a sense of awe…birds perched precariously on towering cliffs…and a 300-foot-long ice cave. It's a primer on Icelandic nature, especially worthwhile for those without the time or money see the real thing.
The most elusive natural thrill is the Aurora Borealis. In summer, when it's too light to see these Northern Lights, you can step into the planetarium to get a sense of this fabled phenomenon.
But of course, there's nothing like experiencing the real thing. Remember, even if you come in the winter solely for the Northern Lights, there are no guarantees of seeing them. But, if you do see those ethereal lights dancing in the sky, the experience will stay with you for the rest of your days.
The weather's great, and from Reykjavík, we're making the classic 150-mile day-trip loop: the Golden Circle.
Within minutes we're immersed in Iceland's iconic wide-open spaces and enjoying the dramatic scenery of this island's natural wonders.
Today we'll see gorges, waterfalls, geysers, and more…with epic views all along the way. BTW, most people do this as a day-trip on a tour bus. But we're driving.
Our first stop is Thingvellir. This national park is important to Icelanders for two reasons.
First, at this gorge, you can see the rift the marks that slow separation of tectonic plates. Walking along this fissure in the earth's crust, travelers sense this meeting of two continents: America on the left, Europe on the right.
And second, Thingvellir — which means "Assembly Plains" — was the site of the original Althing, an annual gathering of early settlers.
This is where the nation of Iceland was born. A thousand years ago, chieftains from isolated farms all over the island traveled great distances to meet right here every summer to make important decisions. In an age when almost no one could read or write, each meeting began by reciting the memorized highlights from last year's gathering.
History aside, Thingvellir is inviting for a nature walk. In this evocative spot, waterfalls tumble and the river flows as geology does its slow-motion dance.
Just up the road is a geological site actually called Geysir. This geothermal field — colorful and steamy with scalding water — is home to the original geyser…which means "gusher" in Icelandic.
The site is otherworldly as pools bubble and steam fills the air…all with a whiff of sulfur. But the big show is the central geyser. Tourists line up, cameras poised with anticip—ation…ready to capture the moment. They wait…and wait…and wait. Sometimes they wait so long the weather actually improves…and then, suddenly, with a gurgling belch the geyser explodes…rocketing skyward and thrilling the crowd.
As you drive the Golden Circle, remember to slow down and enjoy the scenery. And it's not just about the famous natural sights. Along the way, you'll see slices of Iceland's unique agriculture.
With its efficient greenhouses, even with a lack of good topsoil and its difficult weather, Iceland grows plenty of tasty vegetables. The climate is harsh for conventional farming. But, its expertise in greenhouse technology and in putting geothermal energy to good use yields an abundant harvest.
For lunch, we're stopping at a working farm. It's clear that frugal farmers here are tapping into the tourist boom. This family now serves hungry sightseers. The soup bar is a budget standby: it's all you can slurp with fresh-baked bread and a glass of water and a cup of coffee. And you can finish with a farm-fresh dessert with a special twist: the cows actually watch the diners enjoying ice cream made from their very own milk.
For generations this family has raised horses. Horse lovers know that Iceland's local breed is special. Small and sturdy, these were first brought over by Vikings in the Settlement Age — a thousand years ago — chosen because they could fit inside the hold of a ship, yet they were strong enough to work hard once they arrived.
Throughout the country you'll see these wind-blown beauties. A long-established ban on importing other breeds means that today's Icelandic horses are purebred and unique. They also have a distinctive gait that thrills equestrians.
The final stop on our Golden Circle loop is one of the most impressive waterfalls in a country famed for waterfalls: Gullfoss…the Golden Falls.
The churning glacial river plummets into a narrow gorge. Up close the cauldron comes with a deafening roar. And even from high above, visitors feel the spray…wonderstruck. Gullfoss is just one of many waterfalls Iceland has to offer. But if you only have time to see one, this is it. It's rare anywhere on earth to find such a dramatic display of water and gravity.
Gullfoss is one of those places Iceland specializes in: where you feel the raw power of nature. It's the perfect climax to a Golden Circle day.
And the final leg of the Golden Circle takes us across a vast volcanic plateau. From this lonely lunar landscape, we're just 30 minutes from downtown Reykjavík. And, as it happens, in time for dinner.
Eating in Iceland is expensive…thankfully, you've got a range of options from fish and chips to fine French cuisine.
If you're willing to pay for it, you can eat really well. And tonight, we're enjoying a splurge.
This trendy restaurant features traditional local ingredients but with a modern twist. You'll find the staples you would expect like lamb…and fish. While the perpetual flames of the kitchen kick out plenty of meat for carnivores it always has a vegetarian option.
I'm dining with my travel buddy and fellow guidebook author Cameron Hewitt and we're starting our meal with Arctic char and langoustine lava rocks, served on a lava rock.
Cameron: So, the inside is langoustine, which are kind of like little super–, super–sized shrimp.
Rick: It's tempura, but they…
Cameron: They made it look like lava rocks on lava.
Rick: Actually, cooked in a lava flow.
Cameron: Yeah, Arctic char, which just kind of tastes like salmon. Sort of pink fish. Some mustard seed and dill on top.
If this seems fancy, it is. Iceland, while expensive, is a place to invest in a memorable meal.
Rick: It's going to cost you a fair amount anyway. So, you go just a little bit more, you can have this.
Cameron: Yeah, that's what I think. You save up and eat groceries for a few days and then splurge for a meal like this.
For our entrées, we're having some of those staples. Cameron is having the salted cod and I'm going for the lamb chops but with sauces and presentation the Vikings wouldn't recognize.
Rick: I think they know many ways to do cod here.
Cameron: Yeah, it's very good.
To drink, I prefer something domestic — and this island definitely doesn't produce any wine. Instead, it's a local microbrew. Finally, it's profiteroles for dessert. With this, that fermented shark is a distant memory…and that's certainly worth paying a premium for.
From here in downtown Reykjavík, we'll drive 800 miles all the way around Iceland's Ring Road. Which highway? Highway 1, of course. You can't get lost.
On the first leg is Iceland's South Coast. Just two hours from Reykjavík, we're already deep in the thrills…chalking up the experiences people visiting here dream of.
Driving the entire Ring Road takes about 30 hours nonstop. To do it justice you need at least five or six days. You can do it in either direction; we're going counterclockwise. And it's summertime, so it stays light really late.
Seljalandsfoss — one of Iceland's most accessible waterfalls — is a favorite stop. The water tumbles more than 200 feet from cliffs high above like a bridal veil.
On sunny days, the scene is like a party as everyone is suddenly waterfall crazy and connoisseurs of rainbows. Late in the day, with the setting sun, everyone's a photographer. A slippery trail leads up behind the cascading water. Back here the energy is palpable. And rain parkas get a good workout.
Here in Iceland, we experience both the power of nature and the beauty of nature.
This country is expert at monetizing its stunning nature — making the great outdoors accessible. Each morning, rugged vehicles load up with tourists and head for the backcountry. We've hired one of these enormous trucks with a driver…eager for a thrilling experience.
We're heading up a remote and rocky valley called Thórsmörk. Even in this land of superlatives…Thórsmörk is one of a kind. Venturing far beyond where normal cars can tread, it's a land of super-vehicles. But it's still accessible. There's even a public bus service up this remote valley. All must have tires that deflate with the push of a button for extra traction. "Super-jeeps" and buses alike, equipped with these monster tires, churn through rivers of glacial melt — giving all on board a tale to tell.
People come to hike. Remote lodges provide simple bases. Up here, nature is a great equalizer as everyone is psyching up…prepping to create that lifetime memory. And hikers appreciate the portable footbridges. They come with wheels to be repositioned each season depending on where the river flows.
Charging deeper and deeper into the valley, I keep thinking the off-road prowess of our vehicle would make for a great TV ad. Finally, after parking our super-jeep, we actually work up a sweat with a short hike. Feeling small in this primeval setting, we're humbled at the majesty of what surrounds us. And glaciers, reaching down from the mountains, remind us of Iceland's snowcapped rooftop.
The black on the ice is ash from volcanic eruptions…could be fresh…could be very old.
Nature is dynamic here…it's unpredictable…it changes without asking. Savoring this moment it occurs to me, this is Europe, wilder than I've ever experienced.
Highway 1 laces together a steady parade of side-tripping options. Each detour comes with a convenient lesson in the local history, and a schematic map locating every farm, place to eat or sleep, and point of interest on that smaller road.
Like any road trip, doing the Ring Road requires multiple one-night stays. There are plenty of accommodation options: They range from big boxy hotels…to prefab cabins, tight little yurts, remote hostels…and camping.
Many enjoy a camper van or pitching a tent. Efficient and scenic campgrounds help budget travelers both save money on hotels and meals and enjoy a wonderful circle of new friends.
It's been a long day of sightseeing for us — time to settle in.
Like with so many farms, this family is meeting the new demand…housing more tourists…and fewer animals. The welcome is warm. [sound-up] The rooms are simple…but plenty comfortable. And the views are…Icelandic.
A major stop on the Iceland grand tour is the Westman Islands…just a 40-minute ferry crossing from the South Coast. While locals sit inside, tourists soak up the view as we approach the craggy group of islands. The ferry squeezes into the harbor. And tucked into the shelter of the cliffs, our port comes into view.
The Westman Islands' only town is a fishing community surrounded by sea cliffs and a rugged terrain shaped by eons of volcanic eruptions.
Sightseeing boats are dwarfed and outnumbered by a fleet of fishing boats. Visitors strolling the boardwalk sense how fishing is big in this country…and the Westman Islands fleet is the leading producer. Main Street has most of the commerce. It leads past inviting neighborhood lanes to a classic Icelandic church.
But the island is best known for a fiery eruption in 1973 when its volcano blew. It was a massive event: the island actually increased in size.
The town's Volcano Museum tells the story. One frightening night, the slumbering volcano above town rumbled violently to life. Everyone evacuated by morning, but for months, molten lava flowed…slowly creeping closer and closer to the town center. The museum's centerpiece is an actual house that was completely engulfed by lava.
Fifty years ago this was an oozing wall of red-hot molten lava. It was a slow-motion disaster gradually consuming the town. Thankfully, it stopped right here.
Back at the harbor front, we're catching a minibus tour to get a more personal take on that terrifying eruption and to explore the island.
Local guide Ebbi was born and raised here, knows the island, and is ready to roll.
We're driving on lava left from the 1973 eruption.
Ebbi: So, you know, good things, bad things with this…huge eruption like this. Now, nobody died because of the eruption, which is a very good thing. We've gained also about 20 percent. The island increased in size, about 20 percent.
Rick: And you're more famous for tourists now.
Ebbi: Well, yes, it got us on the map also. Underneath us are streets 50 meters down underneath us. We have streets. We have houses. Actually, not far from here is my grandparents' house. And right here below is one of our schools. This marking here is a memorial about a house underneath here from a wealthy fisherman.
Rick: This house?
Ebbi: This house right underneath us here. And everywhere on this lava, we have these wooden crosses, like this one here, for example. This is called "Landagata." One of many streets that went under.
Rick: So that's the name of a street?
Ebbi: There's the name of the street right underneath us.
The town side of the lava ridge has additional examples of what was lost and reminders of how the entire town could have been consumed by the lava flow.
With Ebbi's help we learned about the island's long Viking history and the hardships of living on an isolated island so long ago here in the far north. Early settlers soon learned that on a harsh volcanic island with poor farmland, you have to come up with creative ways to feed yourself.
Ebbi: We have never been any kind of farmers because we are a volcano island, but we had to eat. We have fish, plenty of fish, and the only wildlife we have here are the birds. So, we would eat the eggs. We collected eggs because of survival.
Rick: The nests are on the cliff. How did they harvest the eggs?
Ebbi: So, you will have to come down on a safety rope. And you learn how to collect the eggs here. And we swing over to where we want to go to collect the eggs, and we swing back. And that is also a safety reason. So, if a birds are attacking you, you can swing away.
We moved to another cliff to learn how the tradition of egg collecting, or sprangan, is passed on to the next generation.
Rick: Do people still know how to do this practice?
Ebbi: Absolutely. This is a traditional thing that every local kids will learn. We started at age of 8 or 9 years old. Like this girl here, she's about 13 years old. Both boys and girls will learn this. This is a traditional thing that every local kid learns. Literally, your grandfather or grandma will show you literally the ropes. And this is the first thing you learn before you go up and collect the eggs.
First you learn sprangan. Then you learn how to collect the eggs. It's not a matter of "we have to." It is a matter of not forgetting how it was, how we had to collect the eggs for survival. The rule is, if there are four eggs, you can take two. If there are three eggs, you can take one. You always leave two eggs behind.
Because we don't want to damage the bird colonies here. And we've been doing this for a thousand years. Still, we have all the birds here, so we must be doing something right with this.
And as if to prove his point, Ebbi takes us to a thriving puffin colony popular with birders and tourists alike.
Ebbi: So, this location here is the biggest puffin colony in the world. Now people come here to see the puffins, of course. The puffins, they live in the ocean for eight months. And they're only here during the summer just to do that one thing. And that is to make that one egg year that they make. They make one egg per year, per couple.
Now the…half of the colony is right now underneath here there are thousands of birds sitting, taking care of the egg. Right now, underneath, underneath us, right underneath us. Everywhere is a burrow where they've digged in and they have this, like an apartment, kind of. And, half of the colony is outside and out in the ocean getting fish.
And, the other half is taking care of the eggs. And people all around the world come to see the puffins, of course. And they come here.
Back on the mainland, we're continuing around the Ring Road. And there're lots more dramatic natural sights. From this rugged promontory, on a clear day, you can see virtually the entire South Coast.
And just below is one of this volcanic island's many black-sand beaches. Travelers are enthralled by the fantastical landscape…sea stacks rise out of the briny waves…basalt formations bring out the kid in every adventurer. A windy walk immersed in this pristine beauty can be unforgettable.
Marking the end of the South Coast, the village of Vík is the southernmost settlement in Iceland. Vík is humble and sparse — little more than a practical pit stop for travelers.
And for this village, that's nothing new. Historically there was no harbor. A century ago, before the arrival of the road, provisions came in by boats beached on this shore.
What we've done so far, with Cameron Hewitt who co-authors guidebooks with me, is all within day-tripping distance from Reykjavík.
Reykjavík is three hours that way or six days that way. I'm heading straight back to work on the book. But we'll follow Cameron and the crew as he does his research the long way around. We'll meet up back in Reykjavík.
Leaving Vík, the traffic thins out and the landscape opens up.
Cameron: We just left Rick in Vík, and now we're continuing around the Ring Road. And you know, already the terrain is changing, and the weather is changing. In fact, Iceland is always changing. That's why it's so important for us to go and travel in person to update our guidebooks to make sure we have the latest information.
The next stop is glacier country. One-tenth of Iceland is covered in glaciers, and the biggest one spreads across the top of these mountains. Its many outlets — called tongues — reach down and lap at lowland valleys.
The road crosses vast plains of glacial grit and gravel, laced with milky rivers.
At the foot of some glaciers are lagoons bobbing with small icebergs that have broken off. Lagoon cruises take tourists out on these moody and beautiful waters.
Passengers gear up in heavy jackets and prepare for the adventure. They climb into inflatable boats and then float through this dreamy landscape. It's an unforgettable experience…no matter the weather.
Our enthusiastic guide offers a lesson in glaciers 101.
Guide: There's white ice and blue ice.
He explains how and why there are different colors of ice. There's black ice, which is coated with dirt or volcanic ash. Then there's white ice, which is packed with air bubbles. Transparent ice has fewer air bubbles. And then blue ice, which is highly compressed and dense, has no air bubbles at all, and reflects blue light intensely.
Travelers get the chance to hold a chunk of ice that originally fell as snow…500 years ago. The guide explains how glaciers naturally grow and recede. In fact, this glacier used to extend all the way across the lagoon at the end of the 19th century but has been retreating for over 130 years now.
Guide: It is absolutely normal that at some points, the glaciers are growing. At some point, the glaciers are retreating. But now the glaciers are retreating way, way faster because of global warming.
Even from the shore, people marvel at how glacial ice comes in a stunning variety of shapes, sizes, and colors.
The wind pushes the icebergs into a traffic jam where the lagoon meets the Atlantic. Birds and seals feed in the swirling waters, as the icebergs wait for their final journey out to sea.
When conditions are right, chunks of ice wash up on the nearby black-sand beach. Nicknamed "Diamond Beach," it looks like thousands of gigantic gems scattered over black velvet.
Leaving the glaciers behind, the Ring Road hugs the wild coastline. The churning North Atlantic surf crashes on deserted beaches and rocky shores.
Soon, yawning bays grow narrower…becoming the serene fjords that slice deep into the east coast of Iceland.
Driving along the Eastfjords is long and slow — but always scenic. And around each bend unfolds one grand fjord after another.
Tucked away at the deepest point in one fjord is the colorful village of Seyðisfjörður. This charming place is a magnet for young artists who appreciate its majestic setting, vibrant graffiti murals, and trendy places to eat and drink. It's a welcome pocket of quirky creativity in this very remote corner.
Leaving the fjords and turning inland, the road crosses the vast and arid Highlands. Tucked away in these rocky folds is another iconic waterfall.
Arriving at what looks to be just a desolate volcanic landscape, if you follow the trail, you'll hear the thundering falls before you see them.
Dettifoss is this country's most powerful waterfall, with 50,000 gallons of water every second tumbling through an awe-inspiring gorge of basalt cliffs.
The falls fill the air with mist and rainbows…and fill visitors with an appreciation for the grandeur of Icelandic nature.
Continuing west, the barren plateau gives way to the green oasis of Lake Mývatn.
Ringing the lake is a wide variety of volcanic landscapes. Compact and accessible, Mývatn feels like Iceland's Yellowstone.
Along the lakeshore, these "pseudo-craters" are giant burst bubbles of molten rock…stopped in time.
At these pinnacles of lava — called the "Dark Castles” — families and hikers love exploring a maze of trails between fanciful landforms.
And looming over the lakeshore is a perfect volcanic ash crater. Bizarrely beautiful — like visiting a moonscape — it's one more indelible memory that comes with doing the Ring Road.
Nearby, the geothermal activity keeps on simmering. Visitors wander through this mind-bending, almost Martian landscape. Mud puddles bubble and steam. Fumaroles hiss like teakettles. The terrain is brushed in vivid colors. And everything reeks of sulfur.
Cameron: You know when you come to a place as unusual as this, the real challenge for a travel writer is figuring out how to capture the sense of awe and wonder, and the essence of the place, and then translate that into words.
Nearby geothermal plants harness all this volcanic power for heating and to generate electricity…and even here in the far north, Icelanders also use their endless hot water just for fun. The Mývatn Nature Baths overlooking the steamy volcanic landscape are a popular place to unwind in warm water tinted with natural minerals.
The landscape changes yet again up along the north coast.
Cameron: The Ring Road itself is a scenic spine around Iceland. But if you just stick to Highway 1 there's a lot you might miss. That's why if you have a good guidebook you'll know which of the side trips and detours are most worth the extra miles.
And one of those is Húsavík — with its salty and picturesque harbor on a protected bay, and a proud fishing heritage. Today, a stop here educates visitors about Iceland's whales.
The Húsavík Whale Museum displays the bones of whales that have washed ashore from around the island.
The lovingly displayed skeletons teach visitors about these magnificent mammals. The star of the show is an 80-foot-long blue whale, with a rib cage as big as a truck.
For a chance to watch living whales, out at the harbor, visitors choose between classic fishing boats, or — for a little more adventure — high-speed inflatables.
Whale watchers suit up and prepare for the journey. Tourists climb on board, excited for the possibility of a close encounter with a gentle giant.
If they're lucky, they may come home with happy memories of breaching humpbacks and curious orcas.
Continuing across Iceland's north, the coastal road curls around the Troll Peninsula, with sweeping vistas toward the Arctic Circle.
At the tip of the Troll Peninsula sits the historic fishing town of Siglufjörður. The mountains at the mouth of the fjord protect the little harbor. And behind it is an endearing museum that tells the story of how, around 1900, this became a boomtown for herring.
Visitors learn how these tough little boats caught mountains of herring — a nutritious and highly prized food. This herring harvest powered Iceland's fledgling economy through the first half of the 20th century.
Cameron's learning more about the story from local guide, Edda.
Cameron: Tell me, why is it in this town, why herring? What's special about herring to this town?
Edda: So, the herring industry was for the longest time, one of the biggest industries in the country, for the most part of the 20th century. And for the longest time, this town had the biggest herring port in Iceland. And we often refer to this as the capital of the herring. So, we are located in front of a salting station, and from 1907 until 1968, herring was salted here. We had the women, the herring girls, salting and packing the herring into the barrels.
Cameron: And so this, this table here is exactly where that happened.
Edda: Yeah. So, this is what we call the herring box. And the fishermen coming into the fjord would start by unloading the herring into those boxes, and then they would call out the herring girls for work, and they would take one herring at a time, cutting the head off and pulling the guts out. And then they would place the herring in here.
They would do this until they had almost filled this container. Then in here they would mix it with the salt and then finally put it into the barrels.
So, this is where the herring girls would live. The women that would come from all the places in Iceland just to work here at this particular salting station, this would be an example of their bedrooms.
Cameron: Okay. How many herring girls would live in a room about this size?
Edda: So, they could be up to 50 women living in all this, the whole building. But at the busiest years, they would have to share the beds, two to a bed. So, there could be up to 12 women living in a room this size.
Cameron: Tell me about their working hours.
Edda: When there was herring to be salted, they need to be outside working. And so that meant that they could be working very long shifts. So it could be 20-hour shifts. And one herring girl we interviewed, she said that her longer shift by the herring box was 34 hours straight.
It's inspiring to see the thoughtful ways Iceland preserves and celebrates its unique heritage.
Finishing the loop and leaving the coast behind, the road swings to the south. Along the way is another artifact of this country's rugged history.
In this land where trees are scarce, houses were made out of sod. Glaumbær is a perfectly preserved turf house dating back centuries.
The grassy roof waves in the wind as visitors admire the sturdy herringbone pattern of the stacked-sod walls.
Inside, an earthen corridor connects several rooms. Food was stored in wooden barrels. In the kitchen, meals were cooked over a sheep dung fire.
The farmer's family had a spacious bedroom all to themselves.
But the farmhands bunked in a communal living room. Workers slept two to a bed, tucked in by a wooden panel carved with prayers. Women — who did delicate spinning work — got the bunks near the windows for the better light.
People still lived here until 1947. Modern as Iceland is today, many grandparents remember growing up in houses like these.
As the Ring Road winds its way back toward Reykjavík, there's time for one last scenic detour.
A drive around the Snæfellsnes Peninsula offers a wrap-up of Iceland's dramatic natural wonders: Iconic peaks…sheltered fjords…frisky horses…glacier-topped mountains…swirling sea birds…climbable craters…and abundant waterfalls. In short, it's a microcosm of all the unique forms of nature that Iceland is famous for.
This encore of Icelandic splendor caps one of Europe's great road trips.
After 800 miles, the crew meets back up with me where we started…in Reykjavík.
Rick: Iceland may be a small country with a small population…
Cameron: But it comes with a powerful sightseeing punch.
Rick: I'm Rick Steves.
Cameron: And I'm Cameron Hewitt.
Rick: Thanks for joining us. Until next time, keep on travelin'!