07-15-2026 Seyðisfjörður Iceland

Seyðisfjörður may have been the most beautiful arrival of the entire cruise.

This morning, as I return in memory to our cruise, I am surprised that I had forgotten just how beautiful Seyðisfjörður was. Snow still lay across the high mountains above the fjord, feeding countless ribbons of water that spilled down one green basalt ledge after another toward the blue water below.

Seyðisfjörður is a tiny town of about 700 people tucked at the very head of a long, narrow fjord in eastern Iceland. Steep mountains rise almost directly behind its colorful wooden houses, with streams and waterfalls tumbling down the slopes, making the town seem almost cradled by the mountains. Originally developed as a 19th-century trading and herring-fishing center, today Seyðisfjörður is known for its remarkably preserved Norwegian-style wooden buildings, lively arts community, and its harbor, which remains Iceland’s ferry connection to Denmark and the Faroe Islands.

The morning was nearly perfect, bright and clear, with nothing hiding the mountains from us. Long before we stepped ashore, Mo and I were already captivated.

Sharing the tiny harbor with us was the sleek Scenic Eclipse, a luxury expedition ship complete with its own helicopter, looking more like an enormous private yacht than a cruise ship.

It was noon when we arrived in port, and Mo and I took time to have a delicious lunch of Asian chicken wings at the Pool Grill, a little favorite of ours. A tall frosty beer was the perfect accompaniment.

After our long day on a bus seeing incredible wonders yesterday, we chose to skip the ship tours and simply spend our time in port walking through the charming and colorful town. The trail to the waterfall was visible from our veranda, and it was only a short walk from the ship to the head of the trail.

I felt a thrill inside at the brilliant saturated colors around me, the clarity of the air, and the sunshine.

The trail was smooth gravel with an easy grade. Much like Multnomah Falls in Oregon, there was a longer and steeper hike to a bridge that crossed the creek partway up the falls. I didn’t attempt that section.

We walked slowly enough to stop and look at the thick carpet of wildflowers among the lupines and take photos of the ship in the distance. And no, of course I didn’t walk that trail without my sticks. I had Mo hold them so I could get a photo of me without them. Just for fun.

By the time we walked down the hill and back into town, the brilliant sun had disappeared behind incoming clouds. Somehow the softer light only made the colorful painted houses and lush cottage gardens even more beautiful.

I was surprised to see so many familiar plants in the gardens, reminding me of my decades of gardening through the long summer days and snowy cold winters of northern Idaho. I still haven’t quite adjusted to the dry, hot summer growing requirements of Grants Pass.

Rugosa roses were huge and lush and in full bloom. Many of the little cottages had whimsical art tucked away in their gardens and interesting paintings on their walls.

We meandered slowly toward the main part of town and realized that not far away a large crowd was gathering for what I thought might be the Viking Festival that was part of the official walking tour that day. I had no desire to jostle for a place to stand, especially since standing still for me is much harder than walking, so we meandered in the other direction and skipped the crowd.

It was a good choice. As we turned down the main street toward the church, the beautiful rainbow-painted pavement was nearly empty of people.

There were a few little shops, and one especially caught my eye.

Slipping in through the entrance, the fragrance and feel of soft Icelandic wool was my first impression. There were racks of sweaters and tables filled with gorgeous scarves and shawls, blankets and gloves. I managed to simply enjoy the feeling of that soft wool against my cheek while avoiding the startlingly high prices for Icelandic keepsakes.

However, I did buy just a few little things.

With puffins and sheep being symbols of the country, I settled on a couple of gorgeous kitchen towels, with puffins on one and some silly-looking sheep on the other. I also found a treat for my friend Jeanne, a wooden put-together puzzle in a flat envelope that could easily be sent in the mail and, after building, would become a lovely wooden depiction of an Icelandic sheep. I couldn’t resist and bought a tiny version of the same thing for myself and another to thank Deb for watching the house.

Looking back, I am actually a bit sad that I was so frugal and wish I had spent a whole bunch more on “stuff.” With Mo being a much less impulsive buyer than I am, she was delighted that I was somewhat restrained in my purchases.

I sent photos of Rainbow Street to my gay grandkids, knowing how much they would appreciate the inclusive environment we were seeing in Icelandic communities.

We walked slowly up the colorful street toward the church, admiring the well-kept houses along the way. I could live in this town and be happy. Except I do have to remember that I suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder during dark winters and would no doubt need to escape the darkness.

At the end of Rainbow Street stood the pale blue Lutheran church, Seyðisfjarðarkirkja, although almost everyone calls it Bláa kirkjan, “the Blue Church.” Thank goodness I have a little help writing out those Icelandic names. I still have a terrible time every time I try to write the names of the ports we visited.

As our path turned back toward the ship, I couldn’t resist taking more photos of the gorgeous lilacs in full bloom, with the wild, snow-covered slopes rising behind the town.

I almost didn’t want to go back to the ship, but we had walked quite a bit that afternoon. I am learning when to stop instead of doing that stubborn Sue thing of going and going, thinking it will be OK. Usually it isn’t, and I pay the next day.

But this time it was just the right amount of time, and I felt great. Maybe it was the beauty of the town, the freshness of the air, the magnificent colors and the mountains surrounding us.

What a treasure to experience such a lovely place. Before the cruise I knew about Goðafoss, but I had no clue what we would find in this tiny little town at the end of a fjord in Iceland. Seyðisfjörður was a complete surprise, and maybe that was what made it so delightful.

We were back on the ship in time for supper at the World Café. One more perfectly fresh salad with succulent shrimp and luscious, crispy greens, with the waterfalls of Seyðisfjörður still visible beyond the windows. I still have no clue how Viking manages to serve greens this fresh and good after so many days of sailing.

A perfect day.

Perfect.