There is a particular hour in Iceland when the sun never quite sets — it simply circles the sky, gilding waterfalls and black-sand beaches in honeyed light. We pitched our tents on a grassy rise above a quiet fjord and watched the evening stretch on for hours.
Why summer nights change everything
With daylight that refuses to end, the usual rhythm of a camping trip dissolves. Hikes start after dinner. Waterfalls are yours alone at midnight. You stop checking your watch and start watching the light instead.
Three camps we loved
A sheltered meadow near Kirkjufell with the famous peak framed in the tent door. A highland site beside a milky-blue glacial river. And a cliff-top pitch where seabirds rode the wind below us at 1 a.m.
Packing notes for endless days
Bring an eye mask — you will thank us. Layers matter more than bulk: a windproof shell, a warm mid-layer and a beanie cover ninety percent of Icelandic summer. And leave room in the bag for wool sweaters from farm shops along the way.
On our last night the sky finally blushed pink around two in the morning, and none of us wanted to sleep through it. Some trips you remember in photographs. This one we remember in light.
Inspired? Come see it with us.