Across Iceland

In Short

This book is a detailed record of an 1890s expedition across the Icelandic interior, led by a group of British travelers and researchers. Combining geographical survey work with botanical collection, the narrative captures the logistical frustrations, physical hardships, and awe-inspiring beauty of traversing a largely untamed landscape. It has lasted because it serves as both a historical snapshot of turn-of-the-century exploration and a vivid portrait of an Iceland that was, at the time, still isolated from the rapid industrialization transforming the rest of Europe.

The Story

The journey begins in the Faroe Islands, where the party observes the local industry and landscape before crossing the sea to Iceland. Upon arrival, the group organizes a pack train, battling the common frustrations of travel: unreliable guides, poorly maintained gear, and the ever-shifting weather that dictates their pace. As they move from the inhabited coastal fringes into the stark, unforgiving interior, the expedition shifts from casual observation to rigorous exploration.

The heart of the narrative lies in the team's traverse of the central highlands. They navigate treacherous lava fields, crossing moraines at the base of the Lang Jökull ice-field and witnessing the primal power of the Kerlingarfjöll mountains. The travelers are forced to adapt constantly; they find shelter in the small, multi-purpose churches that dot the countryside, sleeping between pews when farmhouses lack guest rooms. These stops provide glimpses into the local way of life, where the line between domestic space and the wilderness is thin.

A significant portion of the journey focuses on the geological wonders of the island, particularly the Geysir region and the dramatic waterfalls, such as Gullfoss. The author details the unpredictable nature of these volcanic phenomena, noting how seismic activity can turn once-active geysers into dormant pits. The expedition pushes forward into the west and north-west, exploring the Surtshellir caves—a harrowing experience involving ice-coated lava and treacherous footing—before heading toward the northern fjords.

Throughout the voyage, the expedition’s primary objective remains the documentation of the land. Whether they are taking plane-table measurements, photographing the midnight sun, or collecting botanical specimens, the group maintains a scientific focus even when their camp-stools collapse or their soup spills. The final stages of the trip take them through the eastern fjords, where they participate in local ceremonies, such as the unveiling of a memorial for a Norwegian benefactor, highlighting the blend of traditional Icelandic culture and the growing influence of Northern European commerce. The book concludes with the results of their labor, including an extensive appendix detailing the plant life collected, providing a formal scientific coda to their arduous, personal journey. The narrative leaves the reader with a clear sense of the physical toll of such travel, balanced by the enduring, almost mythic, impression of the island’s elemental geography.

How It Unfolds

Preparation and arrival The party organizes their supplies and transport in the coastal towns, struggling with the chaotic state of hired equipment and local guides. They quickly learn that punctuality is secondary to the demands of the terrain and the weather.

Into the interior Moving away from the coast, the group encounters vast lava fields and morainic hills that test their endurance. They set up camps in remote valleys, recording the atmospheric changes that transform the landscape from dull grey to brilliant, shifting light.

Geysers and caves The expedition spends significant time studying the geothermal activity of the central region, including both active and extinct springs. They also undertake a challenging exploration of volcanic caves, navigating slippery ice floors and dark, jagged passages.

Northern and eastern exploration The journey continues along the coast and through the northern fjords, where they observe the interplay between volcanic geology and human settlement. The trip ends with a return to civilization, marked by participation in community social events and the consolidation of their scientific findings.

The People

The party is a small, diverse group of British travelers. The author serves as the meticulous narrator, focused on surveying and photography. Beside him is Hill, a botanist whose primary mission is the collection of flora, often found sketching the group’s more humorous mishaps. Thomas, a photographer and surveyor, shares the author’s interest in documenting the landscape, often braving the elements to set up equipment. Miss Hastie, a resilient member of the party who insists on riding astride—an unconventional choice for the time—navigates the rough terrain with a stoicism that earns the group's respect. Rounding out the group is a "conductor," whose task is to manage the local guides and the constant flow of logistics, often struggling with the limitations of the local pony-trains and the persistent, if sometimes ineffective, attempts to maintain a sense of order in the wilderness.

In Its Own Voice

The roofs did not seem capable of keeping out much rain, and doubtless they were not built for that purpose, but for keeping out the snow during winter when the boats are laid up.

(The author describes the unique, boulder-roofed boat sheds encountered early in the voyage.)

A portion of the town of Klaksvig is built on a narrow strip of land that separates Klaksvig bay from Borovig bay--a strip that has been formed partly of moraine debris, and partly by the silting up of shingle by the sea.

(The author provides a precise, geological explanation of the geography of a Faroe coastal town.)

What It's Really About

At its core, this book explores the intersection between the human desire for order—manifested in cartography, photography, and scientific classification—and the chaotic, indifferent power of the natural world. The author is deeply preoccupied with the "why" and "how" of Iceland’s geology, viewing the landscape not merely as scenery, but as a living record of volcanic history. Beneath the travel narrative is a quiet argument for the value of systematic observation in places that defy control. It asks what it means to be a witness to a landscape that is constantly reshaping itself, whether through seismic shifts or the slow, creeping growth of alpine plants in a desert of volcanic ash.

Why Read It Today

Read this book if you are drawn to the "golden age" of travel writing, where the prose is unhurried and the observations are granular. It is a rewarding read for those who enjoy the feeling of an armchair expedition; you will share in the frustration of cold, wet boots and the singular triumph of reaching a camp at midnight under the bright, clear light of the northern sun.

Modern readers should be prepared for the Victorian-era sensibilities of the author, who views the island through the lens of a British explorer characterizing the natives and their customs with a distant, sometimes clinical, curiosity. The book also contains extensive, technical detail—much of it presented in tabular form—which may feel slow to those looking for a purely narrative account. However, if you want a book that refuses to sugarcoat the discomforts of long-distance horse travel or the sheer, brutal beauty of the Icelandic highlands, this work remains remarkably vivid. It stays with you not because of high-stakes drama, but because of its quiet, steady commitment to capturing a world that feels both ancient and perpetually new.