Our destination for the next two days was Iceland's Snæfellsnes, which means Snow Mountain Peninsula, and looks like a long finger poking out from the country's west coast. The peninsula is named for Snæfellsjökull, the glacier-topped volcano looming at its tip. Full disclosure: I don't think we ever saw the volcano, although we explored the national park for which it's named. One of the earliest settled parts of Iceland, Snæfellsnes's relative remoteness attracted us, as did its "Iceland in a nutshell" description, with promises of glimpses of glaciers, black sand beaches, lava-rock landscapes, epic fjords, charming fishing towns, and more.
Our first sight after leaving the town of Bogarnes was the flat-topped Eldborg Crater rising up more than 200 feet above the surrounding lava field. Its evocative name, meaning The Fortress, refers to a volcano that last erupted about 6,000 years ago.
Almost out of nowhere was a lava rock landscape that stretched for miles, where there had been bogs, lakes, and scrubby vegetation.
Nearing the chain of Gerðuberg Basalt Cliffs, a volcanic formation of interlocking hexagonal pillars that gradually splinter away from each other, is the longest in Iceland.
The shape of the cliffs inspired the roofline of Reykjavik's iconic Hallgrímskirkja Church. After the flat terrain we'd driven through, the sheer wall of rock made us realize that we'd just entered one of Iceland's geothermally active zones.
After crossing up and over the Vatnaleið Pass to the north side of the Snæfellsnes Peninsula, we entered a jagged lava rock moonscape with distant views of Breiðafjörður, the vast body of water on the north shore. We stopped at a viewpoint pullout with picnic tables and chairs made from basalt, hoping to catch sight of Selvallafoss, the Sheep's Waterfall, thanks to a tip from Jyothi, another blogger. We walked down to Selvallavatn, the lake, before turning around when a heavy downpour ensued. We knew we'd be by this way at least twice more, so we hoped to see the falls one of those times! Some Icelandic words for you: foss means 'waterfalls' and vatn means 'lake.'
We wondered if the mountain on the horizon might have been the famous Snæfellsjökull for which the peninsula was named.
As we headed west on Highway 56 toward the north shore of the peninsula, we entered a spiky lunar landscape called the Beserkjahraun Lava Field, which was formed by volcanic eruptions approximately 4,000 years ago. The legendary site was named for two Berserkers, elite Viking warriors infamous for going into battle with no armor. While the word now represents wild or frenzied, its origins are Old Norse for "bear shirt," which is all that protected the warriors from enemies.
Imagine driving about 5mph along a torturous, gravel-potholed road for half an hour to view more unusual lava formations!
According to the sagas, two Berserkers, Halli and Leiknir, came from Sweden during the early Settlement Age to work for Styr, a local man. When Halli fell in love with Styr's daughter, permission was only given for them to wed after Styr gave them what he thought would be an impossible task: to build a bridal path through the lava field. When the job was quickly completed, Styr was faced with a possible son-in-law he didn't want for his daughter. He tricked them by offering a break in a locked sauna, which buried them alive. Think of Styr the Slayer the next time you enter a sauna, Lina! Like many Icelandic legends, this saga contains a nugget of truth, as archaeologists found the remains of two huge men buried under one of the many cairns in the lava field.
After crossing a fjord on a narrow bridge with towering mountains on each side, we reached the second fjord, Kolgrafarfjördur, which was well known for its biodiversity, with whales, seals, and Arctic birds often seen from the shore.
However, in late 2012 and early 2013, there was a mass mortality of herring in the fjord caused by lowered levels of oxygen concentration in the seawater, probably as a result of calm weather and unprecedented numbers of live herring in the fjord.
Outside the town of Grundarfjörður, we hiked about a mile in a light drizzle toward Grundarfoss, described as one of many grand waterfalls of Snæfellsnes.
I was only able to get this close-up shot of the falls, which plunged 230 feet over the cliffs, from a distance, as it was too miserable to trudge any further.
With a population of 900, the midsize town by Icelandic standards, Grundarfjörður's most celebrated moment came three hundred years ago when Denmark designated it as one of the country's original six trading towns in 1786. Strong trade connections were cultivated with the French, who built a church in town.
`One of the most famous natural vistas in all of Iceland was our next stopping point, the 1,520-ft-tall Kirkjufell or Church Mountain, whose name comes from its razor point resembling a steeple. Kirkja, as you may recall from an earlier post, is the Icelandic word for 'church.' Danish sailors who used to frequent the area called it The Sugar Top. The lowest part of the mountain is composed of sediments containing fossils, which are thought to have been formed early in the Ice Age, and Kirkjufell's upper part was formed at the end of the Ice Age by receding glaciers. The mountain is considered one of the country's best examples of glacial erosion with alternating layers of sedimentary rock and lava.
Across the road from the Kirkjufell Mountain viewpoint was the magnificent Kirkjufellsfoss, which was accessible by a private parking lot costing a hefty $10 per vehicle.
The view of the falls with the mountain backdrop is immortalized in postcards, tourist brochures, and, when covered by snow, as Arrowhead Mountain in the Game of Thrones.
Even though it would entail some significant backtracking the next day, we decided to save all the sights further west along the peninsula's northwest and southwest shores until then. That way, we could have more time taking in the sights on the peninsula's southeast coast now by detouring along the only road heading south across the peninsula toward Bjarnfoss. As we weren't yet "waterfalled out," the misty Bjarnfoss cascading onto basalt columns called our name!
One of the first sights on the south shore was the rock-strewn beach called Ytri-Tunga, known for the seals that love to loll there in the summer months. Because both the harbor and grey seals are best viewed at low tide during mild and calm weather, our chances of spotting any were between slim and none, as the weather had been nasty all day long. Therefore, we paid scant attention to the long list of Rules of Conduct when seals are present.
Seal hunting was often a crucial survival factor for Icelanders during earlier times. Seals were considered a valuable resource for their meat and blubber, which were eaten, and their oil which was used to light lamps. Pelts were processed and used for clothing and shoes. Seal fur was a valuable export commodity for many years until around 1980, when the international seal market plummeted due to protests against seal harvesting in Canada, Russia, Norway, and an import ban imposed by the European Union. The combination of extensive seal hunting in the next decade to prevent damage to fishing gear, fish predation, seal drownings in nets, and environmental factors resulted in the decline of seal numbers in Icelandic waters.
As my balance isn't what it used to be, we didn't want to take any unnecessary risks on navigating the uneven boulders nearest the beach. I don't know if I caught pictures of seals or just rocks in the water from a distance!
A few miles beyond the beach was a tiny settlement with a red-steepled church and a monument marked Staðarstaður. It is claimed that Ari Þorgilsson, or Ari the Wise, the author of the Book of Icelanders, a chronicle of the country's earliest settlers, lived there in the 12th century.
I'm smiling as I write this, because it was only when I Googled the Icelandic spelling of his name that I saw a picture of a mammoth mountain looming over the settlement. Because of the overcast skies, we didn't catch a glimpse of what may have been the famous Snæfellsjökull mountain that gave its name to the peninsula.
The writer's giant symbolic gravestone:
Another couple of miles further east took us to the small Ölkelda farm, a word derived from the Old Norse language for the mineral spring on its property. A little faucet sticking out of the ground dispensed naturally carbonated, iron-rich water with donations expected. Notice how the amount of iron in the water had turned the ground red around the faucet! After trying a few drops, I'm glad I didn't have to drink the metallic-tasting water regularly!
When the water was analyzed in 1972, two Icelandic scientists reported that it was beneficial for people suffering from diabetes, heart disease, and kidney disease.
By the late afternoon, the weather had improved sufficiently for us to give Selvallafoss another go as we headed north again on Vatnaleið Pass toward our accommodation. We could hardly believe how phenomenal the falls looked in the late afternoon. Thank goodness we'd stopped and not just whizzed by.
I don't know how some people manage to cram in touring the entire Snæfellsnes Peninsula in one day, let alone doing it 'justice.' Steven and I don't dawdle, we rarely stop for lunch, and we were beat by the time we reached the peninsula's main town of Stykkishólmur that night.
Does the style of the town's Stykkishólmskirkja look familiar? If not, wait until the next post, and I'll tell you why!
It was probably just as well that the Icelandic Eider Center, which tells the story of the local eider duck, its habitat, the production of eider duck down, and sells pricey items, was closed, as it might have been very tempting otherwise.
The town of almost 1,200 looked appealing with its natural harbor, basalt inlet, and sprinkling of colorful, traditional shiplap homes, which begged for further discovery. Still, all would have to wait until the morning after stocking up with groceries at the peninsula's only grocery store and getting a bite to eat at the only 'restaurant' in town still open, a gas station cafe.
The view out back from our abode about 8ish...
... and the view out front at 11:30pm!
Next post: Snæfellsnes Peninsula's northwest and southeast coasts.
Posted on August 7th, 2025, from Qeqertarsuaq, a small community on Disko Island in Greenland, where we're having the time of our lives! As there are no roads linking the towns and settlements, traveling by boat is the de facto mode of transportation in this part of the world. As we found out yesterday in Aasiaat, if the sea is rough, the boats don't go, and travelers are at the mercy of the weather gods. Wherever you are, make the best of it, and take care of yourself and your loved ones.
