July 31 – August 2, 2026

Sailing Into a Fjord

We spent July 31st at Seyðisfjörður, tucked at the very end of a long, narrow fjord on Iceland’s east coast. The cruise in was fabulous — steep mountains rising straight up from the water on both sides, waterfalls streaking down the cliffs, and then, out of nowhere, a rainbow arced right across the fjord as if it had been waiting for us. It felt like a fitting welcome to a town whose most famous street is painted in rainbow colors leading up to its little blue church.

A Quaint Corner of Iceland

Seyðisfjörður itself is a small, quaint town of colorful wooden houses, most of them dating back to Norwegian fishermen who settled here in the mid-1800s chasing “the silver of the sea” — herring. At its peak the town held about a thousand people; today fewer than 700 call it home. Walking its streets, it’s easy to see why artists and photographers are drawn here — everything about the place, from the architecture to the setting, feels curated for beauty.

The Climb to the Waterfall

We hiked up to the waterfall just above where our boat was anchored — a strenuous climb, but deeply satisfying once we reached the base and felt the spray. It was a chilly 46 degrees, and the higher we climbed the more the whole fjord opened up beneath us: the town, the water, our ship, all shrinking into a postcard.

Sharing the Fjord

Two cruise ships were docked in Seyðisfjörður that day, and it was hard to wrap our heads around what that meant for such a small town — thousands of visitors pouring into a place of a few hundred residents for just a few hours. The scenery, both cruising in and from the town itself, was amazing enough that it’s easy to understand the draw. We just found ourselves hoping this special little corner of Iceland can hold onto its quiet character even as more of the world discovers it.

When Iceland Says No — Djúpivogur, August 1st

Our next stop was supposed to be Djúpivogur, a tiny village on Berufjörður known for its rows of giant granite eggs along the harbor and its jumping-off point for puffin-watching trips to Papey Island. It wasn’t meant to be. The captain called it off due to high winds — 25 knots sustained, with gusts up to 40. Ships can’t safely tender passengers ashore in conditions like that, and Djúpivogur is exactly the kind of port where it happens more than most: there’s no dock big enough for cruise ships, so everyone rides small tender boats about a mile in from the anchorage, and that ride simply isn’t safe when the wind kicks up. It’s a good reminder of just how small and exposed some of these Icelandic villages are.

So instead, we had ourselves another sea day — more on that in a future post — and made do with scenic cruising through Berufjörður, watching the mountains slide by from the comfort of the ship instead of the streets of the village below.

Akureyri and a Different Kind of Disappointment — August 2nd

Happily, we made it into Akureyri, tucked at the head of Eyjafjörður, without any trouble. Since we had an excursion booked for later in the day, Nana went ahead and explored the town on her own, and had gorgeous mountain views and a lovely river running through the heart of town.  Nana found flowers everywhere even though it was cold here.

Our own excursion turned out to be a different story. We waited at the meeting point for over an hour before learning the tour operator had actually cancelled it the day before — the ship’s excursion team had simply dropped the ball on passing that along. We couldn’t complain too much, since the excursion had been complimentary, courtesy of our travel agent. Still, in 27 cruises with Holland America, it was a first for us. We’ll be curious to see how they make it right.

Cruising the Fjord

We had an unexpected surprise as the strings played music up in the Crow’s Nest as we exited the fjord. Gorgeous view and excellent music

Expecting the Unexpected

These last three days looked a lot different than we’d planned. But that’s the nature of a trip like this — a small island nation, small cities, and weather that changes its mind by the hour. When you’re sailing this far north, you learn to hold your itinerary loosely and let Iceland surprise you, for better or worse.