Iceland: Sólheimajökull Glacier Hike & Ice Climbing Small Group

4.74

(145 reviews)

What’s the experience like?

“You’ll want to kick harder — trust me!” That’s what our guide, Jón, called back as I stared at the wall of blue ice in front of me. It was early afternoon on Sólheimajökull Glacier, and even though the wind kept whipping my hood sideways, I could smell something sharp and clean in the air — almost metallic. Our small group had met Jón in the parking lot (he actually remembered everyone’s names, which felt kind of rare), and after some awkward shuffling into harnesses and crampons, we set off crunching over the glacier. The sound is weirdly satisfying — like walking on a giant bag of frozen peas.

I’d done hikes before, but this was different. You’re not just walking; you’re learning how to read the glacier itself. Jón pointed out these deep crevasses that looked like they went forever — he even tossed a chunk of ice down one so we could hear it clatter for ages. There were streaks of neon blue running through the ice, brighter than anything I’ve seen in photos. At one point I tried to say “Sólheimajökull” properly and got a laugh from Li, another traveler who’d flown in from Singapore just for this day trip from Reykjavík. It felt good to be out here with people who were also a bit nervous but excited.

The actual ice climbing part? Honestly, I didn’t expect my heart to pound so much just looking up at that wall. But Jón clipped me in, handed me an axe (“Just swing it like you mean it!”), and suddenly I was halfway up before I realized my arms were shaking. My gloves got soaked but I barely noticed — too busy concentrating on where to plant my feet next. When I finally made it to the top (well, my top), everyone cheered. It wasn’t graceful but it was real, you know?

Walking back across the glacier, boots heavy with slush and cheeks burning from cold and adrenaline, I caught myself grinning at nothing. There’s something about being out there — all that silence except for our voices echoing off the ice — that sticks with me way after. Even now when I see photos of Sólheimajökull online, I can almost feel that chill again.