Icelandic Highlands Where the Earth Breathes Under Your Feet

Where the Earth Breathes Under Your Feet in the Icelandic Highlands Wild places, where nature still has the final say and hasn’t been tidied up or made convenient, have always appealed to me. However, nothing at all prepared me for the Icelandic Highlands.

  This isn’t your typical vacation spot. It’s not adorable. It’s not simple. Additionally, it is indifferent to your phone’s signal. What you receive in exchange, however, is something that most tourists strive for throughout their lives: unadulterated, unspoiled, unearthly freedom. Allow me to describe what it was like to realize you were right where you were meant to be while standing in the middle of nowhere. The Trip Starts: Into the Unknown The journey to the Highlands is an adventure in and of itself. The majority of visitors only take the well-known Ring Road in Iceland, which is also quite lovely, but if you venture into the central highlands, the scenery quickly changes. Gravel replaces asphalt. Next, rocks. Then, all you can see are glacier rivers and volcanic dust as you bounce along rough F-roads (only accessible with four-wheel drive). I started the ascent into the highlands after renting a 4×4, stocking up on supplies, and downloading offline maps because there isn’t any signal there. It grew more alien the farther I drove. I finally turned to look around and saw that I was on Mars. Or the moon, perhaps. Or perhaps I had become enmeshed in a myth. A Living Canvas at Landmannalaugar Landmannalaugar, the geothermal center of the highlands, was my first destination. The rhyolite mountains shimmered in pastel shades of red, yellow, and green, as if someone had spilled paint over an entire range. It was surreal to drive up to it. I hiked the Laugahraun lava field trail, which wound through rainbow-colored peaks, steam vents, and old lava flows. It was like riding a huge, living dragon. The ground beneath my boots was alive, steaming, bubbling, and hissing. After that, I undressed and took a dip in one of the river’s natural hot springs, as all tourists should do. All around are snow-capped peaks, cold air, and warm water. Not a single fence. No crowds. Silence thick enough to hold in your hands, and a few silent strangers. This is what it means to be alive, I thought as I reclined and watched the clouds pass. Sprengisandur’s Silence I then traveled through Sprengisandur, a lengthy, barren area that cuts directly through the center of Iceland. Not a town. No trees. An endless sky and a black volcanic desert. I had never heard so much silence. Not the kind of quiet that makes your ears ring, but rather one in which your thoughts become more audible. I pulled over, got out, and just stood there. For miles, no one could be seen, the clouds hung like smoke, and the wind was light. That’s when I came to a realization: I wasn’t by myself. Naturally, I felt surrounded even though I was physically alone. by an old thing. Something is observing. Not menacing, just… conscious. As if the land itself were living. The Highlands Put You to the Test and Give You Back The Highlands don’t have any five-star hotels. No quaint cafés. No charming small towns to get warmed up in. You must arrive prepared and humble if you wish to survive here. I spent a night camping close to Askja, a huge volcanic caldera located deep within the Dyngjufjöll mountains. Long stretches of lava, freezing winds, and fluctuating weather made the hike difficult. However, I forgot all of my aching muscles when I arrived at Víti Crater, a geothermal lake created by an eruption. The water had a turquoise color. The surrounding cliffs were red and gray with ash. I descended and soaked my feet in the warm water that was full of minerals. There was silence. Nearly sacred. I felt small, powerful, lost, and found all at once as I sat there for more than an hour just gazing up at the sky. Why the Icelandic Highlands Are Not Just Beautiful It’s easy to find beauty. Numerous locations with picturesque views, Instagram-worthy locations, or postcard-worthy sunsets can be found all over the world. The Highlands, however, are distinct. You have to earn it here. It requires deference. You become humbled, the noise is removed, and you are left alone. Here’s why it differs from other places I’ve been: There are no crowds, so it’s unspoiled. You may not see anyone for hours or even days at a time. It is alive: the rivers boil, the ground steams, and the volcanoes continue to scream warnings. It changes you: You are not the same person you were before entering the Highlands. The Highlands are the essence of Iceland, despite the stunning coastlines. The Midnight Sun’s Unexpected Magic I couldn’t sleep, so I stayed up past midnight one night, not because I wanted to. The sky resisted darkness. Wrapped in layers and sipping a cup of instant coffee, I sat outside my tent and watched the sun hover just above the horizon. Long shadows were cast across the black desert as it painted the landscape in fire and gold. No sound was heard. Not a move. Only the steady breathing of the earth, a quiet sun, and me. It’s difficult to describe if you haven’t seen the midnight sun. It throws off your sense of time. Your eyes believe it is 6 p.m., but your body tells you it is midnight. The outcome? You lose interest in clocks. You simply are. When It Was Time to Go… I had to return the Jeep, even though I didn’t want to. Return to Reykjavik. Don’t miss my flight. Return to the world of emails, schedules, and streetlights. But up there, in that limitless expanse of ice and fire, I left a piece of myself. People expect me to mention Paris, Tokyo, or Bali when they ask me which place is my favorite. However, I always say the same thing: “Iceland’s middle.” where nothing exists. Because I found everything there. Concluding remarks Not everyone is suited for the Icelandic Highlands. They are harsh, aloof, and erratic. You may become cold. You will undoubtedly get muddy. But this is the place for you if you’re the type of tourist who seeks out meaning, challenge, and awe in addition to beautiful scenery. Visit the Highlands in 2025 when everyone else is crammed into the same old cities. Allow the land to test you. Allow it to transform you. Just be careful not to step too heavily. The earth is still alive.