Solar eclipse in Iceland - The miracle of Ljárskógarströnd

A big spec­tacle had been announced. And in the end, it turned into a real claw-biter. With an exceed­ingly happy ending for the people around Mystic Light Lodge.

On August 12, 2026, Iceland exper­i­enced a solar eclipse – and the western part of the country even got a total one. I had abso­lutely no idea what that meant, but among the two-legged ones, expect­a­tions were sky-high. The hopes were, too. And so was the amount of plan­ning involved. Fest­ivals were organ­ised, traffic plans were worked out, and all avail­able emer­gency and rescue services were put on duty. Prepar­a­tions were made for many packs of trav­elers in West Iceland and the dog kennels – I mean, accom­mod­a­tions – had been fully booked well in advance. There hadn’t been a free spot at Mystic Light Lodge for quite some time either.

Then the big, much-anti­cip­ated day drew closer. And, oh dear, it became increas­ingly clear that a little trouble­maker called the weather might decide to mess things up. Clouds and rain in Iceland? Who could possibly have seen that coming…

On August 12 itself, the fears were slowly becoming reality. The sun was nowhere to be seen. Instead, there were clouds and, at times, even rain. What a complete treat-fail.
But giving up and hiding the head under the covers was, of course, never an option. This is Iceland, after all – where the weather can completely change its mind within a matter of minutes and is well known for enjoying a little bit of drama.

So, later that after­noon, Esther & Pierre got ready at the mirror cabins at Ljárskógarströnd. Camera set up on the tripod, long exposure prepared, everything care­fully planned and nicely organ­ised. Then they waited on the beach, looking out across the Hvammsfjörður. The solar eclipse had already begun behind thick clouds.

And then it happened: the miracle of Ljárskógarströnd.

Some­time around 5:30 p.m. – just before the moon would cover the sun to its maximum extent – a narrow cres­cent of sunlight suddenly shimmered through a gap in the clouds. The only gap in the clouds for miles around.
Esther & Pierre and everyone else present completely lost it with excite­ment and captured the fascin­ating scene with their cameras and smart­phones.

I, on the other hand – admit­tedly – wasn’t entirely focused on the proceed­ings. Nobody had actu­ally explained to me what was going to happen. All I had noticed was that nobody seemed partic­u­larly inter­ested in me or whatever important things I was up to. For a great explorer like myself, it would have been a terrible waste to let such an oppor­tunity pass by without taking action. So I sniffed out some wonderful – and prob­ably forbidden – snacks on the beach and quickly gobbled them down. Yammie.

But then, suddenly, it got dark. In the middle of the day. Now that was strange. I had never exper­i­enced anything like it. The light over the fjord was completely different from an ordinary dusk or night­time. It was dark, yet somehow shim­mering, with a strange bronze-coloured glow. The entire Hvammsfjörður suddenly looked as if someone had put a rather crazy filter over the whole world.
And everything went completely quiet.

That got even my atten­tion. I had to sit down and stare in amazement.

A few moments later, it was already getting brighter again. The cres­cent of sunlight was now reversed, like a mirror image, and quickly began growing larger.

The two-legged ones gazed out over the sea, completely spell­bound, digesting the incred­ible exper­i­ence.
I sat there and digested my culinary achieve­ments. Burp!

Everyone was bliss­fully happy. Really, what more could you ask for?

By the way, the next total solar eclipse in Iceland will take place in 2196, so for me it will defin­itely remain a unique exper­i­ence.

Sif
Head of Enter­tain­ment
Mystic Light Lodge