A long time ago, a bishop was traveling, visiting different areas he was designated in Iceland as part of his duties. As was common back then, he had a group of servants with him, including a maid whose job was to cook his meals. One evening, after setting up camp on a mountain, everyone went to bed for the night.

This episode is part of my Folklore Friday series where I am sharing an Icelandic folklore story every Friday in 2024.

To everyone’s surprise, the next morning the maid was missing. Naturally, this caused a lot of alarm, and the bishop’s party searched high and low for her, but she was nowhere to be found. The bishop, being sharp and well-versed in local lore, suspected that she had been taken by elves.

Now, among the bishop’s servants was a man known as Jón the Giant. True to his nickname, Jón was massive and incredibly strong. The bishop called him over and said, “Jón, I need you to stay in my tent and keep watch. If the maid shows up, grab her and don’t let her go, no matter how much she struggles or begs. And be careful—she might try to trick you with lies to escape.”

After giving these instructions, the bishop grabbed his staff, stepped outside the tent, and drew three circles on the ground around it. Then he walked off into the night without saying where he was going.

Meanwhile, Jón the Giant sat down on the bishop’s bed and waited, staying perfectly still. Time passed, and then—sure enough—the maid appeared. She wasn’t wearing any shoes and ran straight into the tent. She headed toward the bishop’s pillow, as if trying to retrieve something from underneath it. But John was quick; he stood up, grabbed her, and held on tight.

At first, the maid pleaded with him, claiming the bishop had sent her to fetch something and that she needed to hurry back to him. But Jón wasn’t fooled. He ignored her begging and held her firmly, no matter how much she fought and struggled.

While this was happening, the other servants outside saw something truly eerie: twelve men dressed in blue, riding on horseback, approaching the tent. But as soon as these riders reached the edge of the circles the bishop had drawn, they stopped abruptly—almost as if they’d hit an invisible wall—and vanished into thin air. The circles, it turned out, were magical barriers created by the bishop’s staff, keeping anything unholy or evil from entering.

Not long after, the bishop returned. He ordered his servants to tie up the maid until she calmed down, then left again. Eventually, the maid came back to her senses, and once she did, everyone was eager to hear what had happened to her.

She explained that, during the night, a man had come to her bedside, taken her hand, and led her out of the camp. She didn’t know why or where they were going until they arrived at a mound. Once inside, she found herself in a grand hall filled with people. At the far end of the hall, a group of women gave her a spinning wheel and some hemp and told her to spin it when she woke up in the morning.

But things took a strange turn. She said the bishop had appeared to her in that hall and told her to hurry back to the tent to fetch his keys from under his pillow. In her rush, she hadn’t even put on her shoes before running back.

And that was how the bishop, who was not only a holy man but also well-versed in magic, outsmarted the elves and rescued his maid from their grasp. This wasn’t his first time dealing with such mischief, and those who knew him believed he could’ve pulled off the rescue a hundred different ways. The elves didn’t stand a chance against him!

Þorlákur Þórhallsson is Iceland’s most famous bishop. He was the bishop of Skáholt from 1178-1193. Five years after his death on December 23rd, 1193, he was canonized as a saint. Pope John Paul the II declared St. Þorlak the patron saint of Iceland.

December 23rd in Iceland is called Þorláksmessa or Þorlákur‘s feast where a decent number of Icelanders eat fermented skate or skata. It is a type of fish that when fermented has an insanely pungent smell.

Biskup – Bishop

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Þakka þér kærlega fyrir að hlusta og sjáumst fljótlega.

In the rugged highlands of Iceland, a troll named Bergþór lived with his wife in a cave called Hundahellir, nestled in the slopes of Bláfell. Unlike the fearsome reputation trolls usually have, Bergþór was a gentle giant, mild-mannered and kind—though not someone you’d want to provoke. Skilled in the mysterious “black arts,” Bergþór kept mostly to himself.

This episode is part of my Folklore Friday series where I am sharing an Icelandic folklore story every Friday in 2024

Not far from the cave stood a farm in Haukadalur, where an elderly farmer lived. One day, Bergþór visited the farmer with an unusual request.

“When I die,” the troll said, “I want to be buried where I can hear the sound of church bells and running water. Please promise to lay me to rest in the churchyard at Haukadalur. As a sign of my passing, you’ll find my large wooden staff at your door. And as thanks for fulfilling my wish, you’re welcome to take whatever you find in the kettle by my bedside.”

The farmer agreed, and with that, Bergþór left.

Time passed, and one crisp morning, the farmer’s servants stumbled upon a massive wooden staff leaning against the farmhouse door. When they told the farmer, he immediately knew—it was Bergþór’s staff.

Without delay, the farmer and his men prepared a coffin and set out for Bláfell. Inside the cave, they found Bergþór’s enormous body lying lifeless. Surprisingly, the troll’s gigantic corpse was remarkably light, almost as if it were hollow.

They gently placed him in the coffin, still marveling at the strange sight.
Beside Bergþór’s bed, they noticed a large kettle.

Remembering the troll’s promise, the farmer eagerly opened it, expecting to find a treasure trove of gold. But to his dismay, the kettle was filled with nothing but dead leaves.

The farmer’s anger flared. Had Bergþór tricked him? Still, one of the men decided to fill his gloves with the leaves, just in case there was more to them than met the eye. With the kettle left behind, they carried the coffin down the mountain.

At the base of the hill, they paused to rest. The man who had taken the leaves peeked into his gloves—and gasped. The leaves had transformed into gold coins!

Word quickly spread, and the farmer, now hopeful, rushed back to the cave with his men. But no matter how hard they searched, the cave and the kettle had completely vanished. Others who heard the tale also scoured the mountain in vain. It seemed that Bergþór’s magic had hidden the treasure for good.

In the end, the farmer kept his promise. Bergþór was buried in the Haukadalur churchyard, and the mound where the troll rests is still known as “Bergþór’s Mound” today.

Haukadalur Valley, located in southwestern Iceland, is a stunning geothermal area famed for its geysers and hot springs. Part of the Golden Circle, it features Strokkur, one of Iceland’s most reliable geysers, which erupts every 4 to 10 minutes, sending water as high as 30 meters into the air.

Nearby is the iconic Great Geysir, which gave its name to geysers worldwide. Although Geysir rarely erupts now, it remains a significant natural feature. The valley also boasts over 40 smaller hot springs, mud pots, and fumaroles, offering a dynamic and colorful geothermal landscape.

Haukadalsskógur, the valley’s forest, is a cultivated area that began as a reforestation project in the 1930s to combat severe soil erosion. It features marked hiking trails, including wheelchair-accessible paths, and is a serene spot for birdwatching and picnics.

The forest contains various tree species, some commemorated on a totem pole, symbolizing international connections. Nearby, the Beiná River runs through the area, contributing to its lush environment​.

Bergþórsleiði – Bergþórs mound or gravesite

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Þakka þér kærlega fyrir að hlusta og sjáumst fljótlega. 

From ancient times, Helgafell has been steeped in mystery and supernatural lore. Early settlers in the area believed this hill was more than just a geographical feature—it was a place of profound spiritual power. One of the first settlers, Þórólfur, held the hill in such high regard that he declared no one could even glance at it without first cleansing themselves. Helgafell was also a sanctuary, a safe haven where no person or animal could be harmed. Þórólfur and his sons were so devoted to this sacred spot that they believed their spirits would be taken into the mountain upon their deaths.

This episode is part of my Folklore Friday series where I am sharing an Icelandic folklore story every Friday in 2024.

From ancient times, Helgafell (which translates to “Sacred Hill”) has been steeped in mystery and supernatural lore. Early settlers in the area believed this hill was more than just a geographical feature—it was a place of profound spiritual power.

One of the first settlers, Þórólfur, held the hill in such high regard that he declared no one could even glance at it without first cleansing themselves. Helgafell was also a sanctuary, a safe haven where no person or animal could be harmed. Þórólfur and his sons were so devoted to this sacred spot that they believed their spirits would be taken into the mountain upon their deaths.

Before Iceland converted to Christianity, the people who revered Helgafell were pagans who worshiped the Norse gods like Þór (Thor) and Óðinn (Odin). Interestingly, the hill’s sacred status endured even after Christianity became the dominant religion.

Monks eventually built a small chapel on Helgafell, and though it’s no longer standing, you can still see the faint remnants of its stone foundation today. The hill’s spiritual significance seems to transcend belief systems, making it a symbol of both ancient traditions and new religious practices.

One of the most fascinating traditions tied to Helgafell is the ritual of the three wishes. For those curious to try their luck, here’s how it works: Start your journey at the grave of Guðrún Ósvífrsdóttir, a notable figure from Icelandic sagas, located nearby. As you climb the hill, you must remain completely silent—no words, no turning back.

Once you reach the top, stand by the old chapel ruins, face east, and make three heartfelt wishes. But there’s a catch! Your wishes must come from a place of pure intentions—they can’t harm anyone, and you can’t tell anyone what you wished for. Over the centuries, many have claimed success with this tradition, swearing by the power of Helgafell to grant their desires.

If you ever find yourself in the northern part of the Snæfellsnes Peninsula, consider visiting Helgafell. Whether or not you believe in its mystical power, the experience is sure to leave you with a sense of awe and connection to Iceland’s rich folklore.

From its ancient Norse roots to its enduring Christian connections, Helgafell offers visitors a chance to walk in the footsteps of history, tradition, and spirituality—all while taking in the breathtaking beauty of the Icelandic landscape.

My personal experience with climbing Helgafell was so much fun. There were even two farm dogs from nearby that followed me up the mountain. They were also silent and great companions. I honestly could not have asked for a better and more fun time hiking that mountain.

Helgafell – holy mountain or sacred hill

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Þakka þér kærlega fyrir að hlusta og sjáumst fljótlega.

Today, I’m tackling a topic that often confuses visitors—tipping culture in Iceland. If you’re used to tipping as a standard practice in your home country, Iceland’s approach might surprise you!

This is a question I have gotten quite often in the “Ask Jewells Anything” segment of the podcast, so I am doing a separate episode on it. 

In Iceland, tipping is generally not expected, nor is it a significant part of the service industry. This stems from the country’s strong labor laws, which ensure that workers receive fair wages, eliminating the need to rely on gratuities.

Service charges are often already included in the price you pay, making tipping unnecessary. However, showing appreciation for exceptional service with a small tip is possible but not obligatory. For instance, if you see a small tipping jar at a café, those funds might be used for the employees to have a fun social gathering or it might be donated to an organization, like the Red Cross.

While tipping is not the norm, there are instances where it might feel appropriate to leave a little extra. If there is not a tip jar present, which is common that there isn’t, then ask the server or person if it is ok if you leave a tip. Don’t be surprised if the person tells you that they don’t take tips.

It’s important to remember that Iceland’s relaxed attitude toward tipping reflects the fact that unions in the country protect workers so that they can make a livable wage. The agreements made by unions ensure that workers earn enough to cover their basic living expenses, reducing reliance on tips as part of their income. Unlike in some other countries, service workers are compensated well and don’t depend on tips to make ends meet.

Tipping in Iceland is one of those delightful cultural quirks that demonstrates the country’s unique approach to hospitality and fairness. Understanding this can help you navigate social situations and avoid overthinking the bill.

Even though I grew up in the United States and was used to the idea of leaving tips, I have become so accustomed to not leaving tips because of living here that I sometimes get a little shocked when I am visiting the states.

I was in NYC last October and I felt kind of silly  that I almost forgot to tip when we went out to eat. I don’t know if that system will ever change in the US but it is very nice to go out to eat and know that the price on the menu is exactly what you will pay at the end of the meal.

Þjórfé – tip

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Þakka þér kærlega fyrir að hlusta og sjáumst fljótlega.

Sprengisandur is a barren and desolate highland plateau in central Iceland, located between the Hofsjökull and Vatnajökull glaciers. Historically, it was an infamous north-south route connecting various regions, including access to the Alþingi (Iceland’s parliament) at Þingvellir during medieval times.

This route, however, was fraught with extreme challenges, making it one of the most feared and avoided paths of the Icelandic interior.

This episode is part of my Folklore Friday series where I am sharing an Icelandic folklore story every Friday in 2024.

Travelers faced vast stretches of uninhabited terrain, where no shelter, food, or water was available for miles. The volcanic ash deserts offered no forage for horses, and the journey had to be completed swiftly, often pushing horses to their limits. The route was also steeped in superstition, with tales of ghosts and spirits haunting the desolate sands adding to its ominous reputation.

Today, a gravel road roughly follows the ancient trail, accessible only in summer, and is popular among adventurous travelers equipped with robust vehicles. It offers dramatic views of glaciers, mountains, and volcanic landscapes, preserving its mystique as one of Iceland’s most challenging historical route.

There was a man named Starkaður who lived in northern Iceland but the woman he loved lived in the far south. Driven by love, Starkaður decided to make the long journey across the harsh and desolate Sprengisandur to see her.

Tragically, he was caught in a fierce storm along the way and succumbed to the freezing conditions beneath a rock. That rock, now called Starkaðarsteinn (Starkaður’s Rock), marks the spot where he died. The surrounding area was also named in his memory, becoming known as Starkaðarver.

Around the time of his death, his love had a vivid dream in which Starkaður appeared to her. In this dream, he recited a poignant verse:

“Sorrows and harms for a woman’s charms

men have often suffered.

Starkaður’s bones under the stones

still lie undiscovered.”

https://youtu.be/ogUgm3K8KVI?si=C2PWn9NRC0muBwIM

“Á Sprengisandi” is a well known Icelandic song about this desolate and dangerous black sand desert in the highlands. It means “At Sprengisandur” and warns people that if they do not travel quickly through this area, they can meet their peril.

The name “Sprengisandur” reflects this urgency, stemming from the Icelandic word sprengja, meaning “to exhaust” or “to burst,” referring to the strain placed on horses during the crossing.

Harsh weather, including strong winds and snow, compounded the danger, and travelers who ventured too late in the season risked becoming stranded or perishing from exposure.

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Þakka þér kærlega fyrir að hlusta og sjáumst fljótlega.

To celebrate the relaunch of the All Things Iceland online store, I am doing a 20% site-wide sale. This sale is only valid through Wednesday, November 27th at 11:59 PM EST or while supplies last.

Below are some examples of Iceland inspired gifts that you can get for yourself or a loved one this holiday season.

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Many centuries ago, a mysterious woman arrived in the small community of Nes in Borgarfjörður. No one knew where she had come from, but her beauty and grace quickly won the respect of the locals. She settled in Nes and gradually took control of the entire estate, becoming its mistress. Her name was Snotra, and though she was admired, she carried an air of secrecy.

This episode is part of my Folklore Friday series where I am sharing a Folklore story every Friday in 2024.

One day, Snotra appointed a steward to manage the estate and presented him with a challenge. She told him she would be leaving for the Christmas holiday, but when she returned, he must correctly guess where she had been. If he failed, he would forfeit his life. However, if he succeeded, she promised to reward him richly.

As Christmas approached, Snotra made preparations to leave. On Christmas Eve, she departed without revealing her destination. When she returned after the holiday, she asked the steward if he could say where she had been. He admitted he could not. Shortly after, the steward vanished, never to be seen again.

This same fate befell two more stewards, each unable to solve the mystery of Snotra’s Christmas journeys. Finally, a fourth steward was appointed. Like the others, Snotra told him he must uncover her secret or face dire consequences. The steward, however, resolved to succeed where the others had failed.

As Christmas Eve arrived, the workers retired for the night, but the steward stayed awake. Hidden in the shadows, he watched as Snotra slipped out of the house carrying a bundle. He followed her silently across the fields to the rocky shore, where she sat and unwrapped her parcel.

Inside were delicate veils. Snotra draped one veil over her head and threw another into the sea. As she leapt into the water, the steward boldly grabbed a veil and followed her. Suddenly, they were traveling through a swirling mist until they emerged in a land unlike any he had ever seen. The air was filled with the scent of herbs and fruit, and the landscape was lush with orchards.

In the distance, the steward saw a magnificent city surrounded by high walls. Snotra, now wearing her veil, entered the city gates to the sound of music and a warm welcome. She gestured for the steward to stay in a small building near two tall structures, from which he could observe what happened inside the grand hall.

Curious, the steward peered through a window and saw an incredible celebration. The hall was filled with people in splendid clothing, dancing and feasting. At the center of the festivities sat a noble man on a throne, and beside him was Snotra, adorned in regal attire.

Night after night, the steward watched the same scene: music, dancing, and Snotra by the man’s side. On the last evening, he noticed a disturbance. Two men approached the nobleman, reporting that a cow had given birth to twin calves, but one was dead. The two women tasked with caring for the cow blamed each other for the calf’s death. The nobleman grew angry at the dispute, and the steward could see the tension in the hall.

When Christmas ended, Snotra prepared to leave. A grand procession escorted her from the city, with the nobleman leading her by the hand. The steward followed her as she retraced her path through the mist, arriving back at the same rocky shore. She removed her veil and folded it carefully, and the steward did the same before throwing his veil to her.

Snotra said nothing and returned to the house. The steward followed her and rested until morning. When the workers rose for their daily tasks, Snotra approached him and asked if he could say where she had been. The steward replied, “I cannot say exactly, but I saw two women arguing over the death of a calf, and it angered the King.”

At this, Snotra smiled and said, “Thank you. You have broken the spell that bound me. Long ago, I was cursed to leave my husband and live apart from him, only able to see him at Christmas.

The curse could only be lifted if someone discovered where I went during the holiday. You are the first to succeed. For this, I grant you all my estate and possessions. May you enjoy good fortune.” With that, Snotra disappeared, never to be seen again. The farm was henceforth called Snotrunes in her memory.

Borgarfjörður eystri renowned for its breathtaking landscapes, vibrant birdlife, and rich folklore. Nestled between rugged mountains and the sea, this charming village is a paradise for hikers, with trails like Stórurð leading to striking glacial boulder formations and emerald-green valleys.

It’s also a prime spot for puffin watching at Hafnarhólmi, one of Iceland’s best bird-watching cliffs. The area brims with Icelandic legends, including stories of elves said to inhabit the mystical Álfaborg rock. Visitors can enjoy serene nature, local culture, and stunning views, making it a must-visit for adventurers and nature lovers alike.

Nes = headland

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Þakka þér kærlega fyrir að hlusta og sjáumst fljótlega.

This episode is part of my Folklore Friday series where I am sharing a Folklore story every Friday in 2024. To hear other stories, I have shared so far, check them out on my website All Things Iceland. 

In a small Icelandic village, there was a young boy who loved to play tricks and frighten a girl who lived nearby. He’d pop up unexpectedly, trying to make her jump. But over time, she became so used to his tricks that nothing he did could scare her anymore. Anything strange she encountered, she dismissed as one of his pranks.

One day, the girl was sent to the churchyard by her mother to fetch linen hung there to dry. As she worked, she noticed a figure sitting on a tombstone, dressed in all white. Instantly, she thought it was the boy up to his usual tricks, so she marched up, grabbed the figure’s white cap, and declared she wouldn’t be scared this time. With a smug grin, she returned home with the cap in her basket.

But when she arrived home, the boy was already at the house, greeting her with a puzzled look. Confused and unnerved, she sorted through the linen and found the cap she had taken from the figure. It was damp with mold and smelled of earth. Realizing the figure hadn’t been the boy, the family understood the girl had encountered a ghost. Fear swept through the village.

The next day, the ghost reappeared on the same tombstone, this time without its white cap. No one dared approach it, fearing the consequences. Desperate, the villagers called for an old man from a neighboring village known for his wisdom. He advised that the cap had to be returned to the ghost, in complete silence, by the girl who had taken it.

So the entire village gathered in the churchyard as the girl nervously approached the ghost, cap in hand. She placed it back on its head and asked if it was satisfied. The ghost looked up, a cold gaze in its eyes, and replied, “Yes, but are *you* now satisfied?” It then raised a hand, struck her, and she fell dead on the spot. Without another word, the ghost sank into the grave, disappearing forever.

While you might think that this story might make Icelander’s afraid of going to graveyards because they could encounter a ghost, this doesn’t seem to be the case. In fact, in the days leading up to Christmas and especially on December 24th, Icelanders can be seen in graveyards decorating the graves of their loved ones with candles and decorative lights.

If a group of them go, they tell fond stories of the loved one that they are there to honor. I find it sweet and interesting because you can see the graveyards lit up from a distance.

Kirkjugarður – graveyard

Literally translates to church garden.

Kirkja – church

Garður – garden

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Þakka þér kærlega fyrir að hlusta og sjáumst fljótlega.

Experiencing *Into the Glacier* in Iceland was like stepping into a different world—a frozen wonderland hidden deep within Langjökull, Iceland’s second-largest glacier. It was truly mesmerizing to see the glacier from the inside, which made me feel like I was in the heart of an enormous frozen giant.

When it comes to those wondering about safety, the *Into the Glacier* experience is indeed safe. The ice tunnels were engineered with extreme care, taking into account both glacial shifts and temperature stability.

The tour operators maintain the tunnels regularly, and visitors are provided with the necessary equipment, like crampons, to safely walk on ice. Additionally, experienced guides accompany each group, ensuring that everyone is informed about safety measures while they explore this icy wonderland.

The journey to reach this icy marvel began with an exciting ride in a massive truck, custom-built for navigating the rugged, icy terrain. This monster vehicle rumbled up the glacier for nearly an hour and a half, offering glimpses of the snow-covered landscape as we climbed higher. When we arrived, the true adventure began as we stepped into a small tent that led directly into the glacier’s inner sanctum.

Once inside, we were handed crampons, which are ice chains for your shoes, to safely walk on the icy surface. The temperature in the tunnels is a steady 32°F (0°C), so dressing warmly is essential. Moving through the tunnels, I was in awe of the surreal, radiant blue ice.

Being surrounded by walls of ice, created by a unique mix of nature and engineering, felt like discovering a secret known only to scientists and glaciologists—until now. The massive tunnel system, stretching through Langjökull, is an extraordinary feat that brings people right into the core of a glacier, something I had only dreamed of seeing.

There are several ice chambers that we visit, like the Chapel. People have actually gotten married in this chapel, which is pretty cool. I enjoyed exploring this icy wonderland and I think it is a once in a lifetime opportunity to be this deep inside of a glacier and it is stable. I learned so many cool things during this experience, including the facts below.

I went on the “Into the Glacier” adventure with Arctic Adventures. If you use my code iceland10 with them for this trip and other experiences, you can save 10% on the cost of the tour.

Among the many things I learned on this adventure, one stood out that surprised me the most. For the longest time, I knew that a glacier is an accumulation of enough snow that transforms into ice. Over time, that build up can be quite substantial. However, the key thing that I either don’t remember hearing or never knew is that in order for this accumulation to qualify as a glacier, it must flow outwards and downwards due to the pressure of its own weight. We drove by the now former glacier Ok, which still has some ice but there is not enough for it to move downhill under its own weight.

Langjökull – long glacier

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Þakka þér kærlega fyrir að hlusta og sjáumst fljótlega.

This episode is part of my Folklore Friday series where I am sharing a Folklore story every Friday in 2024. To hear other stories, I have shared so far, check them out on my website All Things Iceland

Once upon a time, a farmer named Bjarni lived in Skaftafell. He was known for his skilled craftsmanship and resourcefulness. High in a cave above the Skaftafell Woods, there lived a troll-woman who had become a loyal friend to Bjarni. She watched over his sheep in the mountains and guarded his driftwood along the shore.

One harsh winter, the troll-woman visited Bjarni with troubling news: a ship had wrecked on the coast, leaving only one survivor. But this wasn’t any ordinary man—it was a wild, dangerous brute, and she feared he would bring ruin to all of southern Iceland if left unchecked. Without hesitation, she took up an axe and accompanied Bjarni down to the shore, where she bravely fought the savage and defeated him.

Generations passed, but the troll-woman stayed connected to Bjarni’s family, protecting them as she had him. To this day, people say her cave still stands above Skaftafell, with a skylight in its roof and a bed carved right into the stone—a bed so large it could only have belonged to a troll. And they say Bjarni, ever thoughtful, crafted the cave’s door and its sturdy fittings to make it a cozy home for his unusual friend.

Years later, another man named Einar lived in Skaftafell. He, too, knew of a troll-woman. Once, while traveling through thick fog, he suspected the mist was no natural haze. Feeling uneasy, Einar took his axe and threw it far. Instantly, the fog lifted, and he was able to make his way home. But just as he arrived, one of his horses collapsed, and Einar found his axe lying on his doorstep—this time covered in blood.

The following year, Einar was setting off to cross the Skeidará river when he met a towering woman. She asked if she could borrow one of his horses to cross the water. At first, he hesitated, remembering how one of his horses had been strained the year before. But then, the woman explained it had been because of a prank he’d pulled. She showed him a scar where his axe had struck her, revealing that she was the one who had lifted the fog.

Einar believed her, and they crossed the river safely. During this crossing, the troll woman teased Einar a bit, which he did not take well. To get revenge, he went home and made a cooper gun. After tracking her down, the troll woman apologized for teasing him and they were on good terms again.

After that she vowed to do what he wished and his only ask of her was to not let anyone steal his driftwood. And so, the legend of the troll-woman and her friendship with the people of Skaftafell endures to this day, her protective spirit woven into the landscape and the lore of Iceland.

Skaftafell is a stunning nature reserve inside of Vatnajökull National Park. In that area, you can hike to the Svartifoss waterfall or go on a glacier hike/ice climbing adventure. There are many hiking paths in this area and I highly recommend checking it out. During winter, there are ice cave tours avaiable on the glaciers too. If you plan to take a glacier hike here, feel free to use my code Iceland10 with Arctic Adventures to save 10%.

goðsögn – legend

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Þakka þér kærlega fyrir að hlusta og sjáumst fljótlega.