Fiery natural spec­tacle - magical and untamed 

Woof, here I am again. Given recent events, I just want to tell you some­thing about the volca­noes here on this fiery little island. Iceland is also called “the land of fire and ice,” and the fire part – bubbling volca­noes – has been putting on quite the show in recent years. Espe­cially on the Reyk­janes Penin­sula, south­west of Reykjavík, things have been bubbling up almost as regu­larly as my paddling pool over­flows when I go wild in it. Even right now, lava is flying out of the ground again.
Just to put your mind at ease: trav­eling in Iceland is still totally fine, even with this latest erup­tion. Over here in the west, in the cozy holiday homes of Mystic Light Lodge, everything is completely safe. And flights to Iceland aren’t affected either.

Let’s take a quick look back over the past 15 years. Even before Esther ever set paw - uh, foot - on Iceland, back when she was still “Iceland-green” behind the ears, she had her first encounter with one of its volca­noes: Eyjaf­jallajökull in 2010. That one spewed out so much ash that planes all over Europe stayed grounded, Esther got stuck in Miami, and her vaca­tion lasted an extra week. Such a pity… espe­cially for her Swiss employer.
Mean­while, Icelanders were having a good laugh at the rest of the world, because no one could pronounce the volcano’s name. I’ll give it a go: Wauwufjawauwudl. See? Not that hard…

Next came erup­tions at Grímsvötn (2011) and Bárðarbunga (2014) – both pretty spec­tac­ular, but way out in the desolate high­lands. No human or dog could just casu­ally walk up there. But wauw, the pictures in the media were hot stuff! And cold too – those volca­noes are under the Vatnajökull glacier. Fire and ice, I’m telling you…

Then in March 2021, Fagradals­f­jall burst into the spot­light! After 800 years of silence in this area, it simply started bubbling – just 40 km from Reykjavík, 20 km from Keflavík Airport, and less than 150 km from Búðardalur. Lava foun­tains shot high into the sky, and glowing flows filled the barren valleys. The best part: There was no danger to the Icelandic people, and it was even safe enough for two-legged visitors to hike right up to the erup­tion site. People went nuts, clogged the road with cars, and hiked over rocks and rough terrain armed with expensive smart­phones, cameras and drones, and some­times wearing only cheap flip-flops. Some cheeky fellows even grilled saus­ages on the fresh, still-hot lava. Yammie! I would have traded my whole treat stash for that! But I was not born yet and besides, staying there was not recom­mended for four-legged friends like me with their keen noses deep down, as toxic gases were mostly creeping along the ground.

Esther & Pierre wanted to exper­i­ence this natural spec­tacle too. But back then, they still lived in Switzer­land, the world was stuck in the grip of Corona (not the beer – some­thing about a pandemic), and travel was kind of a hassle. Finally, at the end of August 2021, they managed to fly out for vaca­tion. And they were nearly as excited as I get over a grilled sausage when they found out the volcano was still active and spit­ting hot stuff into the air. But at that time, the volcano liked to take little naps now and then and briefly stopped the bubble show. There­fore, the one-and-a-half-hour hike up to the moun­tain view­point had to be well timed to actu­ally see the spec­tacle. Esther & Pierre kind of failed at that and they had to attempt it three times. The first time, it was so foggy and stormy up on the moun­tain that they would not have seen anything even if the volcano had been spewing out glowing blue whales. The second time, they got super close to a fresh lava flow and marveled at the red glow, felt the heat, and smelled the burnt earth.

The exper­i­ence was amazing – except the volcano was not launching anything out of the crater at that moment. And since the two could not get enough and were desperate to see lava foun­tains, they gave it one more go. At 2 a.m., they dragged them­selves out of bed, drove an hour to the volcano parking lot, and stumbled up the moun­tain in the dark. And this time they were lucky: lava flew high above the crater, lighting up the night with glowing reds and yellows. They still talk about it with spark­ling eyes to this day. I swear, if they say “It was magical” one more time, I will bark at the fridge.

Right after that adven­ture, the erup­tion ended. In August 2022 and July 2023, there were two more erup­tions in the same area – shorter, but still great for tour­ists and thank­fully not a problem for locals or infra­struc­ture. Esther & Pierre were stuck watching from Switzer­land – no holi­days, no spon­tan­eous Iceland trips for them.

In December 2023, the low-risk fun came to an end. At the Sundhnúkagígar crater field, also on the Reyk­janes Penin­sula and very close to the fishing village of Grindavík, new erup­tions occurred continu­ously for months. Lava and earth­quakes led to multiple evac­u­ations of two- and four-legged friends, damaged homes, roads, water and power lines. Also the tourist hotspot Blue Lagoon had to be evac­u­ated several times, and the lava covered the parking lot. Things in Grindavík got so unpre­dict­able that many resid­ents and their furry friends had to leave perman­ently. Although not far away, Keflavík Airport and the capital, Reykjavík, remained mostly unaf­fected.

The videos and photos that flooded social media with each new erup­tion were extremely impressive, a powerful reminder of nature’s destructive force, but also of its breath­taking beauty.

And today? Just a week ago, on July 16, 2025, there was another “woof!” The ninth erup­tion at Sundhnúkagígar sent lava flying again along a long fissure. This time, there was no danger to houses or infra­struc­ture, but the weather and wind condi­tions were so bad that all the stinky gases spread across a large part of Iceland, including Snæfell­snes and our area, and even into the West­f­jords. Sulfur dioxide made it all the way to my dog bed! The skies here in Búðardalur were murky for days, and I could not even see the ocean, even though it is just a tail-wag away. Just gray, smelly fog. In areas closer to the volcano, people were even advised to stay indoors. Poor woofies, where are they supposed to go pee?!

Luckily, the sun has returned here in West Iceland, I can breathe again, and my fjord view is back.

One more funny story: Just hours before the Sundhnúkagígar craters started bubbling again, Icelandic experts had told the public that the next erup­tion might happen in autumn. Despite all the recent erup­tions and all the data and exper­i­ence gathered, making reli­able fore­casts is still impossible. The Earth does what it wants. Just like me. Most of the time.

By the way, on the Snæfell­snes Penin­sula, just south of us, there is the Snæfellsjökull volcano. It is tech­nic­ally still active too, but for about 1,800 years, there has been as little activity there as in my empty food bowl. Still, it is a stun­ning moun­tain to look at and makes a perfect back­drop for striking poses.

Sif
Head of Enter­tain­ment
Mystic Light Lodge