Land of fire and ice

Premiers pas en Islande

When you think of Iceland, you think of volcanoes, hot baths, black beaches... But it's much more than that: it's a journey that's both raw and overwhelming.

You lose yourself in the wind, guided by the breathtaking beauty of the landscape. Winter is undoubtedly the best time to venture there: breathtaking light, glaciers of unreal hues, golden-yellow grass, volcanic rock frozen in ice.

In a two-week tour, you can see the whole island. This is not a destination to be visited, but a land to be explored. Every journey is a discovery, every diversions a surprise.

The journey begins in Reykjavik. One day is enough to soak up the atmosphere of the capital: pedestrian streets, colourful houses, a stroll around the Marina. You'll pass by Sólfar, a Viking sculpture facing the sun, then Harpa, a futuristic building with shimmering windows.

Heading up Skolavordustigur, you can see Hallgrimskirkja, majestic and minimalist, as if risen from the rock. The view of Reykjavik from the bell tower is breathtaking.

Relaxation and discovery

The Blue Lagoon, created from the warm waters of the Svartsengi geothermal power station, offers a milky bath rich in silica, algae and minerals. At between 36° and 40°, the water envelops the body, the landscape envelops the soul. Everything invites you to be fully present.

And if you wait a little, the night comes alive. The sky opens up, the northern lights dance. This suspended, almost unreal moment reminds us that we are one with the world.

A little further on, the ‘Bridge between two continents’ symbolically links the North American and Eurasian tectonic plates. In Reykjanes, you are literally walking between two worlds. Once again, Iceland surprises - at the crossroads of elements and continents.

And that's just the beginning of the journey.

In the heart of fire and ice

Since 2021, the Reykjanes peninsula has been awake. Once best known for the Blue Lagoon, it is now the scene of spectacular eruptions. Three in two months by the end of 2023! Trails lead to the lava fields of Fagradalsfjall, where the earth still seems to breathe. Here, Icelanders refer to the eruptions as ‘tourist eruptions’, such is the fascination of the spectacle.

On the way to the Golden Circle, the Kerið crater impresses with its perfection. This lake, frozen in winter and set in a palette of multicoloured rocks, looks like something out of a mineral dream.

Further on, the Geysir geothermal field is a real eye-catcher. This is where Strokkur, born of an eruption in 1789, gushes out every 5 to 10 minutes. Beneath our feet, water and rock play a subterranean symphony, until the steam explodes in a spray. A champagne of the earth.

Gullfoss, the ‘golden waterfall’, closes the loop in majesty. It cascades down two storeys with a deep roar, often crowned by a rainbow. An absolute classic - and with good reason.

And that's just for starters. The waterfalls of Seljalandsfoss and Skógafoss, or the black beach of Sólheimasandur with its mythical shipwreck, await us.

In Iceland, every diversions is a revelation.

Lost in Iceland

Iceland is the land of waterfalls - and Seljalandsfoss is one of its icons. At 60 metres high, it falls like a curtain from the Eyjafjallajökull volcano. What makes it special? You can walk behind it, in a murmur of water and light.

A little further on, Skógafoss stands out. Wide, noisy, almost theatrical, it envelops us in mist and legends. It is said that a treasure lies hidden here, a vestige of a buried past. Its handle, the only proof, now rests in Skógar's museum.

Then comes the eerie silence of Sólheimasandur. You walk for a long time, in a lunar setting, before spotting a metallic silhouette: the wreck of the American DC-3. Laid up there since 1973, it seems timeless. Lonely. Ghostly. Like a reminder that everything can come to a halt - and that sometimes you have to lose yourself to get a better feel for things.

Black desire

Just looking at the beach is enough to make you realise that Iceland was born from a volcano: black everywhere, cliffs jutting vertically into the waves and white foam spreading out at your feet. Even in the heart of the city, everything seems wild, here man is not a priority, an ocean to be touched mainly with the eyes, as this beach is one of the most dangerous in the world. Immense waves are enough to sweep away and engulf everything in its path. You just stand there, totally mesmerised by the ballet of the waves, the rollers and the perfect foam. These first few days set the tone: we're here to admire, lose ourselves and live at nature's whim.

Slow Life

As soon as you enter this setting, something changes. The pace slows. You follow the golden grass, the bumpy paths, and little by little, your bearings disappear. A profound calm sets in, as if the world has stopped spinning.

At Skaftafell, the hike to Svartifoss - the ‘black waterfall’ - takes us through a cinematic landscape. Nestling in the heart of an amphitheatre of basalt columns, the waterfall impresses with its purity and its raw, almost sacred setting.

Further on, a beach of black sand is lit up by fragments of ice. Diamond Beach. These translucent blocks of ice, which came from the Breiðamerkurjökull glacier, have survived the ages before washing up here, polished by time. In the light, they shine like ancient jewels.

Here, time stands still. And you remember to breathe.

Seventh Art

You think you're walking through a Viking village. In reality, this setting was created for the cinema: wooden houses, a stranded drakkar, orchestrated silence. Built for a Mel Gibson film that was never made, it was eventually used for The Witcher - Blood Origins series. Fiction and reality merge here. Imagination takes over.

Next we head for the ice caves of Breiðamerkurjökull. In winter, you can get there in a 4-wheel drive XXL. Beneath the glacier, the Blue Ice Caves transport you to another world: blue walls, translucent arches and icy silence. It's like being in Interstellar. Every year, nature sculpts new masterpieces, fragile and ephemeral.

But behind the beauty lies the fact that the glacier is melting. 40 metres a year, 110 last year. The cracking and groaning of the ice - it all sounds like a warning.

We return, driven by emotion. The wind slaps, the cold bites, but the scenery is unreal. The icebergs float like blades carved by the wind. And at the end of the road, under a clear sky, we are alone.

Alone in the face of beauty, in the face of our impact, in the face of the world.

Land of 1000 waterfalls

On the northern road, everything falls silent. The landscape is white, infinite, lunar. You drive through a frozen, hypnotic landscape, as if suspended between sky and fjords. Nothing prepares you for what you will experience here in Iceland. Every bend, every light - it's a moment of grace.

Far from guides, it's often instinct that guides our steps. And sometimes, without warning, nature reveals itself in all its splendour. Iceland can be harsh, but it rewards those who dare to venture further.

The walk to Hengifoss, in the north-east, is proof of this. One of the highest waterfalls in the country (118 m), set in an amphitheatre of red-streaked basalt. These layers, millions of years old, tell the story of a world shaped by fire and time.

To walk here is to read a living page of the Earth.

Comfort zone

Getting lost. Sometimes searching, sometimes finding. In Iceland, it's almost inevitable - and essential. This country reveals itself to those who dare go deep enough. Exploring, returning, rediscovering... walking again, to get a better feel for it.

We chose to turn back. Not to do it again, but to feel it differently. Then an inner voice pushed us further - out of our comfort zone. We headed for Silfra, the rift between two worlds: America and Europe.

Diving here is unique. The water is unbelievably pure, ice-cold but crystal-clear, with visibility of up to 100 metres. Protected by a double wetsuit, we immerse ourselves in a blue cathedral: Silfra. A crevasse 100 metres long, 63 metres deep, sculpted by time and ice.

A suspended moment.

Between two continents, between two breaths.

Hot and cold

We wanted to get to Reykjadalur, the famous river of hot water perched in the mountains... but the snow and wind had the last word. Ill-equipped, we turned back - but it didn't matter. Another place awaited us.

Hrunalaug, a small natural spring nestling in a peaceful setting. Three pools, nothing more. But this bucolic setting, far from the crowds of the Blue Lagoon, gave us a moment of suspended animation. Alone in the warm water, facing the snow-capped hills.
Silence. True luxury.

Then it was time for a change of scenery: heading underground to the Raufarhólshellir lava tunnel, west of Reykjavik. A subterranean world, born of fire. Volcanic rocks, changing colours, total silence. An enthusiastic guide told us all about the history of the place - and its secrets: weddings, film shoots, legends.

To walk here in total darkness is to plunge into the bowels of Iceland.

A raw, mineral, memorable experience.

Church Mountain

Route 1 is the backbone of Iceland. The equivalent of Route 66 - but wilder, rougher and more beautiful. You can spend hours here, mesmerised by the scenery. It's not the weather that makes driving difficult... it's the scenery. It's impossible not to want to stop every five minutes.

To the east, the road winds its way between ocean and glacier. To the west, the land is tinged with grey, gold and nothing. To drive here is to drive into a magnificent void. The car becomes a refuge, a survival tool, a mobile observation post.

Then, after one more bend, Kirkjufell appears. The church mountain. 463 metres of grace planted on the edge of the ocean, in Grundarfjörður. Symmetrical, almost unreal, it is one of the most photographed places in Iceland - and the setting for the series Game of Thrones, aka Arrowhead Mountain.

A mythical peak, at the end of a road that looks like a dream.

Epilogue - Iceland itself

Some journeys tick boxes. And then there's Iceland.
A country that can't be visited, but can be imprinted. In your eyes, in your skin, in your soul.

You come back changed. Not because you've seen volcanoes, auroras or waterfalls. But because you've touched something bigger than yourself.
The silence. The breath. The full emptiness.
And that rare moment when the outside world forces you to look inside.

Iceland doesn't take you by the hand. It tests you.
But if you accept, it offers you something that few other places can:
the feeling of existing, fully, here and now.

And when the wind dies down, when the light softens...
you realise that getting lost here was perhaps the best way of finding yourself.