7/14/25: Iceland's Scenic Golden Circle Tour

The Golden Circle, Iceland's classic day trip from the capital of Reykjavik, has been a popular destination for travelers dating at least as far back as 1874, when Danish King Christian IX visited the island and followed its 'grand tour.' Steven and I took the scenic route toward the first stop, Þingvellir National Park, also known as Thingvellir, via a craggy mountain range and a geothermal plant. 

A giant hot-water pipe connected to the Nesjavellir geothermal power station sends 250 gallons of boiling water through the pipe to the capital every second, and also generates electricity. 

Our first, of far too many lava fields to count, in Iceland! This one was from an eruption a thousand years ago. 

The mountain-ringed Dyradalur Valley:

Toward the shore of Þingvallavatn, but anglicized as  Thingvallavatn. Vatn is Icelandic for 'lake.'

Igloo-like structures indicated where a borehole was drilled, with each little pipe feeding into a larger one.

The road wound tightly around the lake with marvelous views, but no guardrails and several narrow blind summits that added some excitement to the beginning of our day!

The gorge at Þingvellir, close to the hearts of Icelanders, was dramatic because it allowed us to readily see the slow separation of the North American and Eurasian tectonic plates, and how the Earth's crust is literally being torn apart. 

The view over Þingvellir, with the Öxará River, Þingvellir's church, and the five-gabled farm building that dates back to 1930, was just stunning. However, this was the great fissure, where the two tectonic plates were moving apart, and the lake had slid into the gap between the two plates. Think of it like pulling a big, chewy cookie apart very slowly, then seeing cracks in the dough, and eventually crumbs falling into the gap. 

As we walked through Almannagjá, or Everyman's Gorge, it was like tracing the boundaries of continents, with America to our left and Europe to our right in simplistic terms. 

Unfortunately, I didn't get the best picture, but the area in the foreground is of utmost importance to the people of Iceland. It was where local chieftains began to gather in approximately 930 at an annual meeting, known as the Alþingi. That is why Þingvellir is considered by many as the country's first capital. Þingvellir was designated a national park in 1930 to commemorate the millennium anniversary of the first Alþingi. An independent Republic of Iceland was proclaimed in this spot in 1944.

Beyond the Alþingi was Drekkingarhylur or Drowning Pool, where women accused of witchcraft were drowned between the 16th and mid-18th centuries. 

A gravel path led to a picture-perfect waterfall called Öxarárfoss, where the Öxará River rises up on the plateau and plunges over the cliff face into the valley. As foss translates to 'waterfall' and there are so many all over the island, that would be another Icelandic word we'd become very familiar with!

Though this church was built in 1859, churches have stood on this spot for centuries. The original one may have been constructed using timbers sent by Norway's King Olav II (995-1030). Because we were short of time, I wasn't able to see the painted interior. The house behind it was built for the local priest who was also the park warden. It is now used for ceremonial functions. 

En route to the next stop on the Golden Circle loop were more seemingly endless lava fields and the Kálfstindar mountain range.

Arriving at lovely Laugarvatn and catching sight of the Fontana Thermal Baths on the lakeshore was well worth the lava views, however! Spending time at one of Iceland's thermal baths was on our radar, but it wasn't on the busy loop drive today. 

We'd come for the Icelandic traditional thermal bread experience, where the staff bake sweet, dense rye bread in the thermal sands a few yards from the baths! We knew from the market the day before in Reykjavik, where we'd first seen the bread, that there is a long tradition of baking rúgbrauð in geothermal areas. After a hole is dug in the sand until boiling water is reached, a pot with dough is placed in the ground and sand shoveled over it. 

We were fortunate that we were only a few minutes late to watch a baker dig up a pot of bread, called rúgbrauð, which had been 'buried' 24 hours earlier and then topped with a stone to mark its location. 

The baker mentioned that it depends on Mother Nature whether the loaf was overcooked or undercooked. Voilà, once he unwrapped the plastic wrap on the pot, took off the lid, and removed the parchment paper, the loaf looked perfect and ready to eat! It smelled quite sweet when we sniffed it.

The start of the geothermal heating system at Laugvatn was in 1928, which coincided with the construction of the district school building, allowing the hot springs to be utilized for heating the school. 

Each mound with a rock on top had a pot underneath it. The water at the edge of the lake, heated by natural hot springs, was quite hot, although we were told it's much cooler the further you get from the edge. 

We then watched as another staff member buried a pot in another area, as we'd missed that part earlier. She told us that the staff had a map indicating where each pot was buried underground, and that a maximum of 17 pots could be buried each day. The number is normally determined by the number of bus groups.

We bought some of the bread from the cafe because we were curious about what it tasted like. Steven thought it was too sweet and was more like cake. I admit to having a sweet tooth, but the overpowering taste of molasses was off-putting to me.

Since our first view of hundreds of hay bales wrapped in white plastic here on the Golden Circle a week ago, I still find them a mesmerizing sight. The white plastic preserves the hay by reflecting sunlight, which helps keep it cooler and reduces the risk of overheating and mold growth.

Just past Efstidalur II, a small farm was augmenting its income by harnessing geothermal power. It was remarkably peaceful, in contrast to the large crowds of people at the Geysir Geothermal Field just a few minutes away. Did you know that when people talk about geysers, they're referring to this place on the Golden Circle called Geysir, which literally means "the gusher"?

Although this sign warned of the high water temperatures, there were no safety measures, such as boardwalks, that we were accustomed to in U.S. parks. The change was welcoming.

On the path to the main event, the miniature Litli Geyser bubbled and boiled but didn't erupt.

The centerpiece was a geyser called Strokkur, which translates to Butter Churn, and erupted approximately every five to ten minutes. Again, we were lucky, as it shot up a wall of water about 50 feet into the air within minutes of our arrival. Unlike at Yellowstone National Park, visitors could get very close to the geyser, making the experience all the more powerful. We watched a couple of eruptions from different spots, noticing each one was a little different in intensity. 

A few yards up the hill were other fumaroles and hot pools. 

Ahead was the original Great Geyser, which was the only one medieval Europeans knew and is the origin of the word 'geyser.' It only rarely and unpredictably blows higher and longer than Strokkur.

Watching Strokkur from another angle, we waited a few minutes for a dome-shaped bubble to appear a second before it erupted almost on cue. Nothing like instant gratification, seeing Iceland's most active geyser!

About ten minutes further on was Gullfoss, one of Iceland's most impressive waterfalls, and in a land of many waterfalls, that's saying something. Fields of fluffy cotton grass bordered the path to the falls. We didn't realize then how common the sight would be throughout the rest of Iceland.

Sigríður Tómasdóttir (1871-1957) was an Icelandic environmentalist who fought against harnessing Gullfoss for power, as she wanted the waterfall to flow from the rock face for as long as Mother Nature permitted and for it to remain untouched by human intervention. 

Sigríður is  pictured second from the right:

Views from the lower viewpoint as we followed the 'line of ants' to the spectacular falls!

The thundering Gullfoss, which means Golden Falls, gives the Golden Circle its name. 

Many people choose to end the Golden Circle circuit after seeing the three main sights and return to Reykjavik. Not us, as we were still game for more.

Tiny Faxafoss was a lovely little waterfall, but not on the scale of Gullfoss. It was the first time we encountered a substantial charge to park at a public site in Iceland, and that was because the parking lot was located on private land. It was to be the first of many similar charges, and at about $8 a pop, plus a $2.50 fee to use a WC, it adds up.

Snow thistles are very common in southern Iceland, particularly along highways, but this was the first time I had the chance to take some pictures of them.

A fish ladder had been built beside the falls for the convenience of spawning salmon. 

We didn't actually see a town called Reykholt, but I had fun wandering around its Friðheimar Tomato Farm Restaurant while Steven catnapped in the car. Their motto is: "Tomato soup is our claim to fame." That was because, in a land of long, dark winters, early frosts, and cool summers, many fruits and vegetables can only thrive in geothermically powered greenhouses. 

Growing tomatoes in greenhouses has been a tradition in the Friðheimar family since 1946. They claim to produce nearly half of all tomatoes in Iceland, shipping two tons to Reykjavik every day, year-round.

Fancy eating tomato soup with bread, fresh pasta with tomato sauce, tomato ice cream, or cheesecake with green tomato sauce in the muggy warmth of a greenhouse? Well, I know just the place!

Taking advantage of a nearby hot spring, the greenhouse walls were lined with heat-radiating water pipes. The farm utilizes geothermal energy to generate electricity, powering its lights and providing a form of synthetic sunshine during the depths of winter. 

Chris: This place would have been right up your alley! Here were some of the items offered in the gift shop.

The wine bar appeared to be a popular spot in the late afternoon. And, I didn't see any tomato-based drinks!

I wonder if there was a more extensive menu inside?

When I got back to the car, Steven joked that one nice thing about driving in Iceland is not having to run out of daylight, because it's still so light at 11 pm!

A few minutes from the farm was the historic Skálholtskirkja or Skálholt Cathedral. Kirkja translates to 'church.'  The church was the former seat of the bishop of southern Iceland, built shortly after the year 1000 when Icelanders converted to Christianity. The tenth church on the site was consecrated in 1963.  

We didn't fully appreciate the locally made stained-glass windows then, not realizing how rare such windows are in Iceland's Lutheran churches. 

The names of a thousand years of bishops lined the back wall!

I spent a few minutes in the crypt, examining a 14th-century stone coffin and other archaeological artifacts. 

As the Episcopal See was the capital of Iceland and the cultural center of the most populous part of the country for approximately 750 years, Skálholt is one of the most significant sites in Iceland's history. 

Beside the 'new' church stood a turf church that was built in 2010 by a local craftsman using no modern tools and only materials that were faithful to those used when a turf church was built during the first half of the 16th century, following the destruction of the church in Skálholt by fire. It was used for services while the new church was being built. 

The warden said that services are sometimes still held in the turf church and that it was rare to have two functioning churches side by side. Driftwood would have been used for the original church, or wood brought over from Norway, as Iceland was essentially treeless in the Middle Ages. 

The churches were flanked by a retreat center run by Iceland's Evangelical Lutheran state church. I could see what a welcome respite it would be after the crowds of people we had encountered at the Golden Circle's main sights.

I had never known of a church providing a home for the organist before then. 

Our last sight of the day was the multi-colored Kerio Crater, a volcanic cone that collapsed and filled with water after an eruption about 6,500 years ago, creating a tiny crater lake. After paying to park, we walked to the edge and peered in. I wanted a better view, so I descended 150 feet down a set of stairs.

The crater's tawny colored walls were quite beautiful in the early evening hours. 

Although it was still an hour's drive back to Reykjavik, our Golden Circle tour was like a highlight reel of what Steven and I would experience as we drove around the rest of the country, with more geothermal activity, waterfalls, and turf buildings from eons ago.

Next post: Traipsing around Viðey Island and the world's only live lava show!

Posted very late on July 21st, 2025, from Húsavík in northern Iceland, very close to the Arctic Circle! Wherever you are, please don't forget to take care of yourself and your loved ones.