Iceland - What to Know

It’s surreal to even be writing about this destination—it’s been on my bucket list for years! For nearly half a decade, in fact, but a mix of obstacles have kept me away. 

Skogafoss

This year, though, I made a promise to prioritize travel—and to finally do the things that scared me. Enter: a round-trip solo ticket to Reykjavík (well, technically Keflavík).

Luckily, I didn’t end up traveling the southern Ring Road entirely alone—shoutout to a certain sibling who decided to tag along. But even if he hadn’t, I still would’ve boarded that plane and figured it out as I went.

I traveled in September, and while most of what I’m about to share will be especially useful for summer travelers, take it with a grain of volcanic salt—Icelandic weather does whatever it wants.

So let’s start with the obvious: what on earth do you pack?

September wasn’t as cold as I anticipated—temperatures typically ranged between 40–60°F. Some days felt chillier, others surprisingly warm. But more importantly, Iceland is an incredibly windy country. Packing a high-quality, wind-breaking jacket is an absolute must.

Speaking of wind… let’s talk about rain. Icelandic weather is wildly unpredictable. Some days we were completely drenched; other days, we were sweating through our layers. A windproof and water-resistant jacket will serve you well. I brought a North Face jacket, and it held up impressively—even when we were getting poured on at Fjaðrárgljúfur Canyon. My pants, however… that’s another story.

Alongside a sturdy jacket, I highly recommend water-resistant pants. I wore a pair that came insulated, which was great—until they got wet. Insulated pants take forever to dry, and trust me, I learned that the hard way. Do I regret it? Only a little—but overall, still worth bringing.

Lastly: waterproof shoes. Non-negotiable. I brought insulated hiking snow boots, and they were perfect. You’ll see them in literally every photo because I wasn’t taking any chances. After all, my rule of thumb when traveling: I’d much rather have soaked clothes than soaked toes.

Some of you may disagree, but wet socks paired with a two-hour drive back to the hotel? Absolutely not. I simply do not love that.

Fjaðrárgljúfur Canyon,

Now let’s talk transportation. If you want to explore at your own pace and take spontaneous detours, you’ll absolutely need to rent a vehicle. Having your own car gives you so much flexibility—especially if plans change (which, in Iceland, they often do).

We rented a 2WD vehicle, which handled Highway 1 (the Ring Road) with ease. About 90% of our journey was on paved roads, with the remaining 10% on gravel sections that were clearly under repair.

That said, some destinations in Iceland legally require a 4x4, and it’s illegal—and unsafe—to drive there with a 2WD. Because of this, we had to skip a few spots on our list, including Landmannalaugar, Háifoss, and Sigöldugljúfur.

Finally, drive safely, stick to the speed limit, and be respectful on the road. Remember—we're the visitors here. Plus, there are quite a few speed cameras scattered along Highway 1, and even within some of the national parks.

Outside of accommodations (which we prepaid before arrival), gas was easily one of the most expensive necessities. I made it a point to fill up once a day and never let the tank drop below half—just to be safe. On average, I spent around 5,000 ISK per fill-up, which is roughly $40 USD, depending on the current per-liter rate.

Food is another major necessity on the trip, and if you're trying to stick to a budget, there are ways to make it work in Iceland. Unfortunately, I can’t offer much advice in that department—because I wasn’t exactly one of those people.

That said, I will say: Skyr is criminally underrated. I had it every morning—not because it was the cheapest option, but because the high protein content, paired with some carbs, kept me fueled for the hikes ahead.

On average, I spent between 2,500–4,000 ISK per meal (roughly $20–$30 USD), which is pretty standard in Iceland. If I had a drink with my meal, I’d land on the higher end of that range. If I were just eating to refuel, it stayed closer to the lower end. Icelandic delicacies can be quite different—definitely an acquired taste for many. While I didn’t immediately gravitate back to the familiar American-style options, I did lean toward heartier, more filling meals, especially for dinner. That was my treat at the end of a long day.

Kvernufoss

Here’s what I didn’t expect: Iceland is staggeringly beautiful. Truly, there’s nowhere else I’ve been that compares. The landscapes shift constantly—one minute you're in a mossy lava field, the next you're standing at the base of a towering waterfall or looking out over a black sand beach.

That said, everything is much farther apart than you might expect. As an American used to long drives, even I was surprised. Most destinations or photo ops were anywhere from thirty minutes to two hours apart. And once you factor in time for hiking, taking photos, and just standing in awe, your day fills up quickly.

I planned our trip thoroughly, but there was one hike I really wanted to do—Glymur—that just didn’t fit into our five-day itinerary without completely draining both our body batteries. I’ve already bookmarked it for spring when I return.

Over the past few months, I’ve talked to several friends and colleagues who’ve either done the Iceland stopover program or traveled there for work. Nearly all of them agree: two weeks in Iceland is the sweet spot, and I couldn’t agree more.

Following this post, I’ll be sharing the full itinerary I created for this trip. If you're planning your own adventure, I highly recommend building in some buffer time—expect to miss one or two things a day to stay sane and truly enjoy the journey.

Use asterisks to mark your must-see spots, and be realistic with hiking times. Most of the truly epic places will challenge your body—but I promise, they are so worth it.