Perched 40km off Iceland’s northern coast, Grímsey is a windswept island that offers an extraordinary blend of rugged beauty, remoteness, and vibrant wildlife. Home to only 20 year-round residents and a staggering population of seabirds, this 6.5-sq-km isle is Iceland's northernmost inhabited point and the only piece of the country that crosses into the Arctic Circle.
Even on a sunny day, Grímsey’s weather is unforgiving. When we arrived in late August, the relentless winds made our waterproof layers feel inadequate, and every gust threatened to knock us off balance. Armed with walking sticks, not just for stability but also to fend off dive-bombing Arctic terns, we explored the island’s dramatic basalt cliffs. Along the way, we spotted puffins lingering before their migration—a reminder of the island's seasonal rhythm.
A Journey to Isolation
Until 1931, Grímsey was accessible only by small boats delivering mail twice a year. Today, a 20-minute flight from Akureyri or a three-hour ferry ride from Dalvík transports adventurers eager to experience its stark beauty. Visitors come to see one of Europe’s most remote settlements and the teeming wildlife that far outnumbers the human inhabitants. The seabird population—puffins, Arctic terns, kittiwakes, razorbills, and guillemots—is estimated to outnumber residents by a staggering 50,000 to one. Free-roaming Icelandic horses and sheep add to the island’s charm.
A Life of Simplicity and Wonder
“Only 20 of us live here full-time,” said Halla Ingolfsdottir, a local tour guide and the owner of Arctic Trip. Born in Reykjavík, Ingolfsdottir first visited Grímsey to see her sister, who had married a local fisherman. After years of part-time stays, she moved permanently in 2019, captivated by the island’s unique allure.
“There’s a magic here,” Ingolfsdottir shared. “The people, the nature—it’s all extraordinary. Each season offers something special: the storms and Northern Lights in winter, the returning light and birds in spring. It’s a different world.”
Ingolfsdottir runs a nine-room guesthouse and a tour company while also overseeing the island’s power station. Unlike mainland Iceland, which thrives on geothermal energy, Grímsey relies on a single diesel generator, a testament to its isolation.
Despite its challenges, Ingolfsdottir thrives in this tight-knit community. “People ask if I get bored, but I don’t have time for that. We live much like those on the mainland—we work, exercise, and enjoy life—but nature here keeps me grounded and inspired.”
A Unique Haven
Grímsey’s appeal lies in its raw, untamed beauty and the harmony between its human and avian residents. For those seeking an escape from the ordinary, this Arctic gem offers a rare glimpse into a world shaped by the forces of nature and the resilience of its people.
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