Signing an online pledge to responsible tourism might not be everyone’s idea of a fun prelude to going on holiday (and it’s certainly not a legal pre-departure requirement) but, for me, there’s a pleasing touch of Girl Guide nostalgia to the act, which was initiated by the forward-thinking Icelandic government in 2017. More importantly, and particularly if you’re travelling with children, it opens discussions about good travelling practice that you might not have had. I’m talking, of course, about the ground-breaking Icelandic Pledge, which goes like this:
The Icelandic Pledge
I pledge to be a responsible tourist.
When I explore new places, I will leave them as I found them.
I will take photos to die for, without dying for them.
I will follow the road into the unknown, but never venture off the road, and I will only park where I am supposed to.
When I sleep out under the stars, I’ll stay within a campsite, and when nature calls, I won’t answer the call on nature.
I will be prepared for all weathers, all possibilities, and all adventures.
I ponder the Icelandic Pledge when I’m standing on frozen farmland, on the outskirts of Selfoss, in southern Iceland, and gazing towards the big dipper as I blow on my gloved hands and try to remain optimistic, even though we’ve been scouring the heavens for the aurora borealis for almost four hours.
One of the world’s greenest countries, Iceland’s eco-credentials are impressive, with its capital city, Reykjavik, flying the flag for sustainable living,
I’m just one in thousands of visitors who flock to Iceland each year hoping to witness these enigmatic northern lights. Experts predict that the autumn and winters of 2024 and 2025 will bring the strongest auroras for two decades (as the sun begins to reach the peak of an 11-year cycle) but tracking them down can turn out to be a little harder than expected.

One of the world’s greenest countries, Iceland’s eco credentials are impressive, with its capital city, Reykjavik, flying the flag for sustainable living, meeting one hundred percent of its heating and electricity needs through hydroelectricity (73 per cent) and geothermal (27 per cent), compared with 86 per cent country wide.
Water heated by geothermal sources are pumped to its 200,000 inhabitants daily, making good use of the abundance of natural resources (hydropower, for example, comes from rivers fed by glaciers). Public buses run like clockwork (and in all weathers) and, more importantly, on methane, part of the government’s plan to be completely carbon-free by 2040.
In keeping with this ethos for cleaner, better, living, restaurants are refreshingly open about their practices, with the majority championing local and seasonal produce (somewhat of a challenge in a country where much fruit and vegetables are grown sustainably in greenhouses). No lip service either in their use of biodegradable products, part of a wider commitment to reducing waste and conserving energy.

The family run Icelandic Street Food is obsessive about zero waste and offer endless refills on their hearty soup and fisherman’s stews, all based on Grandma’s traditional recipes and served within a loaf of bread (thus saving on water and washing up!). ‘Seventeen servings for one person is the record,’ jokes the founder, Unnar Helgi. ‘So, you’re welcome to keep coming back.’ Diners are politely encouraged to dispose of any leftovers in the compost bins provided.
The EDITION is the only 5-star offering in the city, and has all the hallmarks of Skandi design, with clean, simple lines and furniture that offers functionality without sacrificing beauty. The abundance of basalt (volcanic) stone creates a kind of Viking ski-chalet vibe, but on a much grander scale, and my room has views to the working harbour, which I gaze at from a bed adorned with a throw by local wool company, Istex.
Iceland’s Capital
Reykjavik, which translates as Smokey Bay, earns its name from sea mists that often wrap the city in a blanket. As daylight doesn’t break until 11am in midwinter, most visitors head to the top of Reykjavik’s iconic Hallgrimskirkja church. When the mists lift there are far-reaching views over the city’s colourful corrugated iron clad houses to the harbour, where the Hapa concert hall shimmers (on a clear day, you’ll also get a view of Snaefellsjokull glacier).

Light might be at a minimum but on clear days it is luminous, so I hurry down to the famous Sun Voyager sculpture on the bay to see it bathed in rosy, pink tones, then continue to the harbour, where Arctic Terns perch prettily on yellow fishing trawlers. From here, whale watching trips run throughout the year but are better saved for summer months when there’s a much better chance of up-close sightings, and of also striking out to walk among some 30,000 puffins that nest on the islands in Faxafloi Bay.
Embracing nature is so deeply embedded in the Icelandic psyche (they have been wild swimming forever, and ice snorkelling is the latest craze. Try this with local tour providers, Arctic Adventures), that there are plenty of opportunities to enjoy the great outdoors even in the depths of winter.

Bathing in outdoor thermal pools is the number one winter pastime and a stop at natural thermal pools of The Secret Lagoon, located close to the Haukadalur geothermal region in southern Iceland, is otherworldly, awash with bubbling pools and cracks in the frozen earth out of which steam rises from underground hot springs.
A Golden Circle Tour gives an epic flavour of Iceland’s natural wonders, with a main attraction the Strokkur Geysir, which spouts thirty metres to the sky at three-to-eight-minute intervals. Gulfoss Waterfall (meaning Golden Falls) is another, where I watch 38 million tonnes of water cascade over two levels into a canyon of the Hvita river, crowned by several rainbows. At Kerio, a volcanic lake, I walk the crater rim, marvelling at the contrasting colours of red volcanic rock and water of a milky, emerald hue.

Fridheimar’s reputation precedes it, lauded as Iceland’s best loved restaurant, and housed in a balmy corner of greenhouses that span some 11,000 sq. metres, owned by tomato growers extraordinaire. Tomato soup is the main draw here, made from fruit that would otherwise go to waste. Dorothea, the daughter of founders Knutur and Helena, talks me through their sustainable farming methods (green energy, pure water, and biological pest control are all key), which includes the use of 1,200 bees, working to pollinate up to 2,000 flowers per day.

We drive on through grassland partly covered in fresh snow and dotted with red-roofed houses, stopping to stroke the noses of grazing pony-sized Icelandic horses. Last stop of the day is the UNESCO World Heritage Site of Pingvellir National Park. The park sits on a tectonic plate boundary and is scarred by deep fissures and ravines of moss-covered volcanic rock, and walking between continents in the Almannagja gorge, where North America and Eurasia tear away from each other at a rate of two to three centimetres per year, is a stroll like no other.
Back at The EDITION, I opt for the six-course tasting menu at signature seafood restaurant, Tides, which is making a name for itself by adding new twists to traditional Icelandic food. Tasty and indulgent, while remaining pleasingly healthy, highlights are the tangy 1000-day aged Feykir cheese salad with pickled pears and walnut dressing, and locally caught Arctic Char with smoked cauliflower and edamame.
October to April is the best period for seeing the auroras, but it’s not quite as easy as stepping out under a cloudless sky and looking towards the heavens. Clear skies do help as does finding areas free of light pollution, but there are other factors at play such as how many particles of plasma the sun has recently fired towards earth (it varies) and the shapes of the auroras depends on the magnitude of these solar flares.

Away from the city and light pollution free, Iceland’s sky is vast and glittering, with shooting stars popping like champagne corks. At five minutes to midnight, I spot a faint, hazy light, growing more intense by the second, until a swathe of undulating emerald shimmers across the sky to take my breath away, and bathe a country, so fully committed to sustainability, spectacularly in green.
Hayes & Jarvis offer a seven-night tour, starting at £1,400 per person, including accommodation and guide, excluding international flights. www.hayesandjarvis.co.uk
Double rooms at The Reykjavik EDITION from £380 per night based on two people sharing, including welcome drink, use of spa, and £35 food and beverage credit. www.editionhotels.com/reykjavik
For various tours, including viewing the Aurora Borealis by super jeep and ice snorkelling, contact Arctic Adventures www.adventures.is