Hornstrandir is the final peninsula that juts over the top of the West Fjords, Iceland - and remains a daunting place for its intense beauty and extreme nature. The mountains are pyramid-shaped, sharpened by constant ice and wind. The cliffs stand up like giant walls against the sea, and the intermittent valleys are lush green places of rare plants and wildflowers.
It is a place to enjoy solitude and silence – a place where you actually notice the sound of a bird’s wings, the wind, the trickle of a stream or the hum of a very distant boat engine. Other than Iceland’s desert interior, Hornstrandir is the best place to feel completely alone on the Earth.
After five years, I got back to this remotest outpost of Iceland for yet another hiking adventure, aiming to visit places I haven't visited before. This time, a long-time friend since high school, Renata, was my companion; on the contrary to my already 4th visit of Iceland, this trip was her first Icelandic adventure and even her first trip in the deep north - a brave and rewarding choice.
Having started in Hesteyri, we ventured to Aðalvík on the west coast before turning back and hiking mostly on a pathless terrain to the beautiful bay of Kjaransvík. From Hornvík, we set on an adventurous journey towards the isolated Lónafjörður fjord, and then returned to Horn using the well-trodden coastal path.
Nothing has changed here during the last five years; Hornstrandir remains wild, stunningly beautiful, very remote - and with endless possibilities of adventurous hiking, especially for those who are brave (and experienced) enough to leave footpaths shown in maps.
Hornstrandir is notoriously not easy to reach.
Combining an international flight from Prague to Keflavík with a domestic flight from Reykjavík to Ísafjörður and with a subsequent boat transfer to Hornstrandir may be a real challenge, especially when one aims to eliminate waiting time and does take care for drop off and pick up locations of boat transfers. Still, the logistics here is far much easier than in Greenland, for example, where one may need days to reach the final destination.
Having our boat scheduled for 2:30PM, we had some spare time in Ísafjörður to stroll around, and ended up enjoying a prolonged lunch break in the harbour-located Tjöruhúsið restaurant, famous for its fresh all-you-can-eat fish menu.
Frankly, it was certainly one of the best seafood experiences I've ever had, and adding up sunny weather allowing us to enjoy the delicious food outside, the start of our journey couldn't be any better.
There is a rather simple network of routes across the Hornstrandir peninsula, though possibilities of off-the-trail wandering remain endless.
Starting in Hesteyri, we wanted to see the isolated church close to Aðalvík bay and stroll on a sandy beach there. From Aðalvík, the idea was to pursue a bit adventurous journey to Kjaransvík, aiming to join the well-trodden path from Hesteyri somewhere during the way.
Hornvík is a short way from Kjaransvík, however reaching the isolated Lónafjörður fjord (the only southern fjord with no boat connection) was our ultimate goal, with return journey mainly based on following the coastal path to Hornbjarg cliffs.
It was already quite late in the afternoon when our boat reached the isolated hamlet of Hesteyri with a few standing houses. There were a few people around, and we enjoyed a final brief glimpse of civilization before leaving it for good.
In the 1890s, Norwegians set up a whaling station in Hesteyrarfjörður which is a sub-fjord of Jökulfirðir. In 1915, the station closed when Iceland imposed a 10 year ban on whaling in Icelandic waters, and in 1920, Hesteyri was established with private dwellings, a school, a shop, a church, a post office with telephone communication, and a resident doctor.
In 1927, a Reykjavík company bought the whaling station from the Norwegians and converted it into a herring factory. In its busiest times, up to 80 people lived in Hesteyri to work in the factory and its support services.
It continued to operate until 1940 when the herring stocks began to dwindle due to over-fishing in the area by Iceland and other countries such as Russia and Norway. The factory closure devastated Hesteyri and people were forced to move away to find employment elsewhere.
By 1952, Hesteyri was abandoned, as was the whole Hornstrandir peninsula.
In a beautiful weather, we started to hike in the southeast direction along the Hesteyrarfjörður fjord, continuously ascending towards the Fannalagafjall hill.
The path was well-trodden and we really enjoyed our first kilometres on the trail, with no other hikers around.
It took us a few hours to reach a lonely church with a parsonage in Staður - a remote and touching place possessing a beautiful location on the shore of the Staðarvatn lake.
The small graveyard nearby with overgrown grass and wildflowers truly meets the rest-in-peace formula.
The sun began to set when we reached the former village of Sæból with its long sandy beach and a few isolated summer houses.
There was no one here; just us, paradise-like scenery, setting sun, and flying birds all contributing to the tranquil atmosphere of this beautiful and remote place.
There was one a bit tricky part in the section called Hyrningsgata where we had to descent to the sea level using a fixed rope and a ladder; we were really careful with heavy backpacks on our shoulders.
A bit tiring hike across boulders on the coast followed, and it was already around 11PM when we finally found a convenient camping spot at the small Miðvíkurós river.
Not surprisingly, we fell asleep right after dinner, thankful for such a beautiful opening of our Hornstrandir adventure.
The morning was sunny and windless, and we enjoyed our breakfast and packing in a slow and peaceful manner.
Our idea was to hike towards Hesteyri and cross the footpath to Látrar avoiding descent to the sea level; instead of that, we wanted to reach the path to Kjaransvík somewhere below the Kjaransvíkurskarð pass.
Not surprisingly, hiking on the pathless terrain was slow, however we managed to do what we wanted: we joined the path towards Kjaransvík somewhere below the Kistufell mountain, saving a few hundreds meters of elevation of unnecessary descent and ascent.
The weather began to deteriorate when we got higher, and the final sections in the Kjaransvíkurskarð pass were foggy and windy, with a few remaining snow fields (August!) to be crossed.
Everything turned optimistic when we finally saw Kjaransvík bay in the north direction; the subsequent descent was easy and straightforward.
In Kjaransvík, we pitched our tent on a meadow with lots of driftwood and buoys, and with beautiful view of the sea with sea waves crashing to the shore.
It was a deja-vu for me; this evening, I finally got back to a place that I had visited during my first Hornstrandir adventure. Kjaransvík is hauntingly beautiful and a perfect spot for an overnight stay.
The second day was over - and yet again we hadn't met anyone on the trail.
The area of Kjaransvík and Hlöðuvík bays is stunningly beautiful: sandy beaches, lush grass and wildflowers, boulders and driftwood, and sea waves uninterruptedly hitting the coastline.
There were two rivers to cross, too, and we also met a (German) hiker going in the opposite direction towards Hesteyri. We were thankful for his advices since he explained us the tidal system in the Lónafjörður fjord which we wanted to visit in upcoming two days.
Along the coastline, the weather was constantly changing, and the sun was trying hard to occasionally break through thick clouds.
Five years ago, we met a man spending his summer in the lonely house in Hlöðuvík; this time, there was no one there.
We took some time to soak up the serene beauty of the area before starting an intense ascent towards the Atlaskarð pass.
It was an intensive ascent indeed; steep, long, tiring... and with beautiful and rewarding views.
I recall that five years ago we had similar weather during the ascent; cloudy and a bit dull. It's often the case here in the northern part of Hornstrandir - winds bringing fog, rain and clouds are blowing from the north.
The section before Atlaskarð was cold and windy, and we hurried to reach the pass quickly, looking forward to see the Hornvík bay for the first time.
Hiking here wasn't difficult, and the beauty of wildflowers contributed to the tranquil mood of this place.
There were a few tents in Hornvík; the area tends to be busy at times, but still in the Hornstrandir sense and scale - there were no more than 15 people here, and we managed to find a suitable and isolated camping spot among the wildflowers.
Time for a real adventure came quickly and without hesitation. Changing weather, occasional rain and fog, wet pathless terrain, uncertain direction... these are the usual attributes of an adventurous hiking endeavour.
We crossed the broad stream mouth of Hafnarós and started to ascent the Kýrskarð pass, hiking in the eastern direction. Here we met an older Israeli couple; I like their country and we enjoyed a brief conversation.
The weather began to deteriorate just below the Kýrskarð pass, and we didn't see much of the Hornbjargsviti lighthouse when we reached the viewpoint above it.
I tried hard to set the correct direction towards Lónafjörður; in dense fog, it wasn't really easy though with an offline map in my phone it wasn't impossible.
Usually, just a map and the surrounding landscape are sufficient to orientate properly; in poor weather, however, I was thankful for my GPS-equipped device.
With the mighty mountain range around the Breiðuskarðahnúkur peak slowly showing up from the foggy whiteness, we continued hiking in the southern direction on the wet and rugged pathless terrain.
Luckily, the weather started to settle after a few hours, and the final portions of the journey below the Snókur mountain were not that difficult, especially when we found a few cairns confirming the correctness of our route.
The constant desire to see and explore the other side, what is behind the hill, the unknown landscape and undiscovered view... this has always been the fuel of explorers.
I like these feelings when reaching mountain passes though I always regret usual windy and cold conditions; seeing the other side, however, finally always overcomes this short-term unpleasantness.
The journey down to Miðkjós, the northernmost part of the Lónafjörður fjord, was both intense and rewarding - with stunning views, snow fields to walk on or boots-ski downhill, mighty rivers and a few waterfalls.
Not surprisingly, we were in Lónafjörður alone; this must be one of the least visited and most remote areas in Hornstrandir.
Miðkjós is a place of a stunning beauty: big mountains, powerful waterfall(s), carpets of wildflowers, beautiful coastline... we reached this place feeling privileged to have a chance to be here.
The subsequent journey from Miðkjós to the Sópandi bay was a tricky one; it's a real through-the-sea-hike.
The map suggests a correct route; the key here is to leave the coastline and hike across sea weed areas in shallow sea water.
I'm not sure we had high or low tide during our crossing, however one thing is certain: it was cold, it was long, it was slippery... and it was fun!
The German hiker we met two days ago told us he had seen bunch of seals here in the area; we were lucky enough to see them as well.
The seals are lovely and smart creatures; they chose the least accessible bay of the entire Hornstrandir for their pleasant and undisrupted long-term stay.
The morning was bright and sunny, and we spent some time at the seaside observing the lovely group of seals we encountered yesterday. Being aware of our presence, the seals stayed relaxed and calm, and we really enjoyed their company.
Knowing that a long and strenuous ascent is ahead of us we weren't really eager to do our morning chores, however finally we set out on the trail, still in the favourable weather conditions.
It was a long journey; further up on a mountain plateau, I was once again happy for having my phone with a basic offline map with me - there was neither a footpath nor any cairns in the area, and we really wanted to be sure about correctness of the chosen route.
The weather began deteriorate, too, and seeing a few cairns high up at Þrengsli after a few hours of hiking was really encouraging. Being thankful, I contributed with a few stones on each of the cairns :-).
The journey down through the broad valley to the Barðsvík bay was easy and straightforward.
It was only here we met some people again - we hadn't met anyone during the last two days in the remote Lónafjörður fjord, and seeing a rather big group of 10+ hikers on an organized trip descending down the Skarðsfjall hill was an unusual sight for us.
We tried our best to keep the distance, and swiftly continued hiking towards Smiðjuvík.
In Smiðjuvík, we found a convenient camping spot protected from the blowing northern wind.
It was a long day, and were happy we made it back to the northern coastline with a trodden footpath.
The journey to Hornvík is rather straightforward here - just following the coastline and the obvious footpath.
Having hiked here before, I knew it will be a interesting up and down journey, with a few beautiful waterfalls along the way and the picturesque Hornbjargsviti lighthouse.
It took us a few hours to reach the viewpoint above Hornbjargsviti. There was an inviting wooden sign pointing to the lighthouse and advertising coffee and waffles! :-).
Having spent six days in the wilderness, we didn't hesitate much, and after a short descent entered the lighthouse building with the aim to warm up and enjoy the sweets. Both the coffee and waffles were delicious, and we were rather reluctant to leave this warm and hospitable place.
We continued hiking along the coast towards the magnificent Hornbjarg cliffs, meeting multiple cute foxes during the way.
The iconic shapes of Kálfatindur, Jörundur and Miðfell greeted us silently in a majestic way.
The Hornbjarg cliffs form the most rugged part of Hornstrandir, and the scenery here is nothing less than jaw-dropping - no matter from which peak one enjoys the view.
Here, we also started to meet isolated groups of day-trippers, though their number luckily remained limited - and we had the spectacular landscape with magnificent cliffs and beautiful carpets of wildflowers literally to ourselves most of the time.
Instead of returning to Hornvík (Höfn), we wanted to find a secluded camping spot somewhere in the Hornbjarg area, aiming to spend our last night in Hornstrandir somewhere in the wild.
Here, the number of Arctic foxes increased considerably, and we had more or less constant company of these beautiful small creatures sometimes producing barking sounds like dogs.
Arctic fox comes in two colour variations in Iceland – "white" and so called "blue". Only a third of Iceland’s foxes wear white winter coat which in summer turns grey to brown on the face, legs and upper body, while under body fur becomes lighter coloured.
The “blue” morph never turns truly white in colour. In summer they are dark drown, black, light grey. Brown fur provides the best camouflage in the coastal regions, and that’s why foxes of “blue” morph are more common in Hornstrandir.
Having spent night near the lake below the stunning Kálfatindur peak, we wanted to climb the cliff for eagle-eye views of the surrounding area.
Without our backpacks it was a straightforward though steep ascent, and despite rolling sea fog and clouds the views remained magnificent most of the time.
We returned back to Höfn around lunch time, and spent the remaining time till the boat departure relaxing, drinking tea and coffee, and eating the last remaining food provisions.
The boat journey to Ísafjörður took more than two hours, and we got to the airport in Ísafjörður just in time to catch the evening flight to Reykjavík.
With one spare day in Reykjavík, we wanted to explore the city in a slow pace, aiming to enjoy our stay fully.
The statue of Leifur Eiríksson, standing in front of the Hallgrímskirkja church is one of the best-known landmarks in Reykjavík - Leifur is probably the best known hero of Icelandic Viking age, being the first European to arrive in America.
There is a relaxed music shop 12 Tónar nearby, and I was determined not to leave Iceland's capital without a LP - unfortunately, the iconic ( ) album by Sigur Rós was not available, however I found a way how to compensate this hard luck :-).
The evening was successfully closed in the friendly though heartbreakingly expensive Mikkeller & Friends pub; their Citra fruity beer was really special.
Last but not least: yes, the sheep head. We went to that place, we ordered it, we saw it... and Renata (not me!!) was brave enough to taste it. Think globally, eat (and drink) locally!
I got to know about this local Icelandic delicacy not for the faint-hearted couple of years ago when I saw the Mýrin movie by Baltasar Kormákur (very good movie by the way); there are couple of scenes in which one of the main protagonists enjoys this "unique" meal.
In Reykjavík, I found the Mýrin Mathús restaurant by coincidence when searching on Foursquare for a suitable place for after-trek hearty dinner; we simply couldn't resist and wanted to give a try! :-)
The iconic film scene:
Ending with the sheep head :-) ... now back to Hornstrandir.
After my second visit I definitely feel I know this place much better and would be in a mood for even bigger off-the-trail adventure in case of another journey.
What I find particularly attractive in Hornstrandir is its very rugged fjord system, which gives a possibility for multiple coast-to-coast day hikes; one may start hiking in a beautiful bay in the morning and end up in another fjord on the opposite side of the peninsula in the evening of the same day.
Besides Hornvík, encountering other hikers is not really common during the way, especially in the areas without any paths; that sense of isolation is unique and one tends to slow down and enjoy the serene scenery instead of rushing.
Sea-fording is another aspect worth mentioning, and on the contrary to my previous opinion it's really hardly avoidable in some areas; tide tables then may come really handy.
Located on the rim of the inhabitable world, Hornstrandir nature reserve remains both breathtakingly raw and astonishingly rich in vegetation, and is a fantastic destination for adventurous hiking, with challenging terrain and excellent opportunities for spotting Arctic foxes, seals, and teeming bird life.
© 2026 Northern Adventures
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