Wednesday newsletters always feature a hotel or flight review.
I recently enjoyed my first cruise holiday—a fabulous trip around Iceland and the Faroe Islands aboard the Seabourn Venture, the world’s most luxurious expedition cruise ship. You can read my trip reports here:
- Review: The Reykjavik EDITION Hotel
- Review: Seabourn Venture
- Review: Ultra-luxury cruise around Iceland (today)
- Review: Hotel Hafnia (Faroe Islands)
- Review: Hotel Brandan (Faroe Islands)
- Review: Manon Les Suites Hotel, Copenhagen (Denmark)
Review: Ultra-luxury cruise around Iceland with Seabourn
Few journeys offer the perfect balance of adventure, luxury, and intimate exploration quite like Iceland — and an 8-day voyage aboard the Seabourn Venture – the world’s most luxurious expedition cruise ship – delivered it in spades. From Reykjavík’s colorful harbors to the dramatic cliffs and hidden coves of the North Atlantic, the expedition immersed me in Iceland’s raw landscapes, volcanic formations, and wildlife-rich islands.
Each day brought a new discovery: kayaking past puffin colonies, hiking through misty valleys, marveling at waterfalls tucked away in serene corners, and exploring volcanic caves and fjords. Evenings offered a return to the ship’s elegance, with gourmet dining, panoramic lounges, and conversations with fellow travelers and the expert 24-member Expedition Team, whose knowledge spanned wildlife, geology, and local lore. This wasn’t just a cruise — it was an 8-day journey into the heart of Iceland, across stormy seas and Arctic waters, where the power of nature and the comfort of a luxury expedition intertwined to create memories that lingered long after the voyage ended.
In this article, I’ll share a day-by-day description of the voyage, capturing the highlights and unforgettable moments that made this expedition truly remarkable. You can watch a YouTube video documenting the entire day-by-day experience below.
Have you ever made an Arctic cruise? If so, what was your experience? Leave a comment.
Day 1 – Embarking in Reykjavík
It was pure exhilaration when I first glimpsed Seabourn Venture, the elegant ship that would carry me on my very first cruise. Until then, I had only read about expedition cruises and imagined what it might feel like to step aboard such a vessel. Seeing her sleek green hull and graceful lines waiting in Reykjavík’s harbor sent a shiver of anticipation through me. This was no ordinary holiday — it felt like the beginning of something exciting.
Embarkation was seamless. Within minutes of arrival, my luggage was whisked away, and I was greeted with genuine warmth by the crew. Their smiles and effortless hospitality immediately put me at ease. Fellow guests — some seasoned Seabourn travelers, others first-timers like myself — exchanged introductions, the shared buzz of adventure already knitting us together. After check-in, I slipped into the easy rhythm of ship life almost instantly. I headed straight to The Colonnade, where a leisurely lunch with sweeping views of Reykjavík’s waterfront set the tone for the journey ahead. From there, I made my way to my suite, my private retreat for the next week. Spacious, beautifully appointed, and filled with thoughtful touches, it felt more like a boutique hotel than a ship’s cabin. With glass of champagne in hand, I took time to explore the decks and lounges — each space inviting in its own way, from the intimate Bow Lounge to the Constellation Lounge with its panoramic views.
By early evening, all guests gathered in the Discovery Center for the mandatory safety briefing. The 24-strong Expedition Team, representing five continents, introduced themselves one by one. With hundreds of years of combined experience in polar and remote exploration, they exuded both authority and passion. Their stories ranged from scientific research to polar guiding, and I could sense immediately that we were in expert hands — people who didn’t just know these wild places, but loved them deeply.
That night, as Seabourn Venture glided gracefully out of Reykjavík’s harbor, I stood on deck with the northern summer sun lingering on the horizon. Suddenly, a pod of dolphins appeared, leaping and bow-riding in front of us — a living escort into the open sea. Just a few miles later, humpback whales surfaced, their blows catching the golden light. For me, it was nothing short of magical: on my very first day at sea, Iceland seemed to be welcoming me personally, offering a blessing of wild beauty as our voyage began.
Day 2 – Exploring Snæfellsnes National Park
Our first full day ashore took us to the Snæfellsnes Peninsula, often called “Iceland in miniature.” I understood why immediately — within a single sweep of the eye, I saw black sand beaches, lava fields, and the glacier-topped volcano Snæfellsjökull, still half veiled by clouds.
I chose to join a guided bus tour around Snæfellsnes Peninsula, and it turned out to be the perfect way to immerse myself in the region’s magnificent landscapes. Our first stop was Mount Kirkjufell, Iceland’s most photographed mountain. Seeing its graceful, church-like peak rising directly from the shoreline and reflecting in the calm waters was a quiet, unforgettable moment. From there, we continued into Snæfellsnes National Park, where a lone lighthouse stood proudly against the backdrop of black cliffs and the restless Atlantic. The wind whipped around us, seabirds wheeled overhead, and I felt dwarfed by the raw power of the setting. It was Iceland at its most elemental.
From the lighthouse, it was a 60 minute drive to our next stop. At Hellnar, a tiny coastal hamlet, we wandered along the rugged shoreline where dramatic basalt formations and sea arches framed the crashing surf. It was easy to imagine how this little settlement once thrived on fishing, with nature’s forces always close at hand.
By midday we reached the harbor town of Stykkishólmur, a charming place with colorful houses and a bustling waterfront. We paused here for a delicious Icelandic lunch before visiting the town’s striking church. With its modern, sweeping design, the church is both architectural landmark and community heart, offering a sense of stillness inside that contrasted beautifully with the lively harbor outside. Architectural Digest called Stykkishólmskirkja church one of the 19 most beautiful churches in the world.
Our final stop was Helgafell, a small hill rich in folklore. Local legend says that if you climb to the top in silence, never looking back, and make three wishes, they will come true. I followed the tradition, climbing quietly until the panorama opened before me. Standing at the summit, I felt connected to both the land and its stories, my wishes whispered into the Icelandic breeze.
By the time we returned to Seabourn Venture, I felt as if I had experienced a complete portrait of Iceland in a single day: mountains, myths, villages, and wild coastline.
Day 3 – Flatey Island: Culture & Puffins
Arriving at Flatey Island felt like stepping back in time, as though the modern world had quietly slipped away the moment our Zodiac touched the shore. Only a handful of families live here in the summer months, and their brightly painted houses give the island a quaint, storybook charm. Our first stop was the island’s tiny church, modest on the outside but remarkable within. In the 1960s, Spanish artist Baltasar Samper covered its walls with whimsical murals of island life — fishermen in yellow oilskins, puffins with bright orange beaks, and children at play. The paintings were simple yet deeply evocative, a window into the everyday rhythms of this remote community.
Next, we visited the island’s library, the oldest in Iceland. It was small enough to feel almost like a private study, with shelves holding sagas, weathered historical texts, and a lovingly kept replica of the famous Flatey Book. Leafing through its pages, I was struck by how much of Iceland’s literary and cultural heritage had passed through this little island, once a hub of learning and faith.
But it was the kayaking that stole my heart. I chose to kayak along the shoreline, gliding silently past colonies of seabirds. The air was alive with their cries: Arctic Terns slicing into the sea with pinpoint precision, Common Guillemots diving beneath my paddle and vanishing into the clear water. And then, the moment I had been hoping for — puffins! Dozens of them perched comically on grassy ledges, their heads tilting with curiosity, while others bobbed on the water’s surface just a few feet away. Their colorful beaks and clumsy, determined takeoffs was a remarkable sight.
Meanwhile, some fellow guests opted for a submersible dive, descending into a world hidden from the rest of us. They returned later brimming with excitement, describing forests of swaying kelp, translucent jellyfish drifting like ghosts, and schools of fish weaving through the shadows. Listening to their stories, I realized Flatey had given each of us a different kind of magic — cultural, natural, or marine — depending on how we chose to explore it.
Back on board, the indulgence continued with a caviar reception in the Constellation Lounge, perched high on Deck 9, the ship’s very top floor. With panoramic windows framing the endless expanse of sea and sky, it felt like the perfect spot to savor such a decadent treat. Champagne glasses clinked, the atmosphere was lively, and I couldn’t help but marvel at the contrast — only hours earlier I had been tracing history in a tiny island library, and now I was enjoying caviar and champagne aboard one of the world’s most luxurious expedition ships.
As if the day hadn’t already been magical enough, we embarked on another excursion that evening — this time to the majestic Dynjandi Waterfalls. Approaching them on foot (after a Zodiac landing) was nothing short of awe-inspiring: a series of cascades tumbling down in broad, bridal-veil sheets, each smaller fall feeding into the next until they spilled out into the fjord. The thundering sound and mist on my face made me feel fully alive, dwarfed by nature’s raw grandeur. Standing there at dusk, with the northern sky painted in soft hues, I realized Day 3 had given me everything I had hoped for in this journey — history, wildlife, indulgence, and the purest form of natural wonder.
Day 4 – Siglufjörður: Echoes of the Herring Girls
Sailing into Siglufjörður felt almost cinematic, as though our ship were slipping into a secret world. The fjord is strikingly narrow, with steep mountains rising like walls on either side, their peaks shrouded in drifting mist that curled and unfurled like cathedral incense. Colorful houses appeared one by one along the waterfront, their cheerful facades a stark yet charming contrast to the dramatic landscape that surrounds this tucked-away town.
Once the undisputed “herring capital” of the North Atlantic, Siglufjörður thrived on an industry that shaped both its identity and its fortune. That history is lovingly preserved in the award-winning Herring Era Museum. Inside, reconstructed salting stations and smokehouses told vivid stories: the scent of tar and salt still lingers in the wood, nets are coiled as if just hauled in, and mannequins in period clothing bring scenes to life with uncanny immediacy. I could almost hear the rhythm of knives flashing against fish, the clatter of barrels, and the laughter and songs of the famed “herring girls” — women whose speed, strength, and unbreakable camaraderie kept the industry alive. Their energy seemed to echo through the halls, turning history into something visceral.
Later in the day, I joined a guided hike into the Hvanneyrarskál Valley, a lush pocket of green nestled between the mountains. The meadows were sprinkled with wildflowers — delicate yellows, purples, and whites — that swayed in the breeze like brushstrokes on a canvas. At one point, I stopped simply to listen. Overhead, a Common Snipe performed its extraordinary aerial “winnowing” display, the vibration of its tail feathers producing a haunting sound — somewhere between wind rushing through strings and the low hum of an instrument. It was as if the valley itself had a voice, nature offering its own private concert.
By evening, the town revealed another layer of its charm at the Seagull Brewery, a cozy microbrewery set in a former fish factory. We sampled a flight of Icelandic craft beers, each with its own character. Conversation flowed easily, warmed by both the beer and the camaraderie of fellow travelers. Back on board that night, the atmosphere carried over with live music in the Constellation Lounge, where the day’s experiences mingled with melodies, and Siglufjörður felt like the kind of place that lingers in both memory and heart.
Day 5 – Crossing the Arctic Circle at Grímsey
Few travel moments compare to stepping across the Arctic Circle, and today I did just that on the remote island of Grímsey. The approach itself was memorable — a low, windswept strip of green rising out of the sea, framed by sheer bird cliffs. Only about sixty people live here year-round, yet this tiny island carries outsized significance.
As I walked toward the Arctic Circle Monument, I passed a series of engraved stones marking the Circle’s slow but steady drift due to the Earth’s axial tilt. Each stone represented a year, stretching like a quiet timeline across the landscape. Pausing to run my hand over one, I felt a humbling sense of scale — the reminder that our planet is always moving, always changing, while we get only the briefest glimpse of its rhythms.
But if the Arctic Circle was the headliner, it was the puffins that stole the show once again. Here, they were everywhere — tens of thousands carpeting the cliffs, their bills stuffed with silver sand eels for their hungry chicks. The air was alive with the whir of wings, the sea dotted with rafts of puffins bobbing like little corks. Some launched into their comically determined flights, wings beating furiously against the wind; others stood perched on grassy ledges, watching us with bright, curious eyes. Adding to the spectacle were guillemots, razorbills, and kittiwakes, weaving through the sky in a chaotic yet beautiful ballet of feathers.
Grímsey is wild, windswept, and unforgettable — a place where human presence feels fleeting and nature still reigns supreme. As the morning ended, I realized that crossing into the Arctic wasn’t just a matter of latitude; it was an initiation into a world where the raw power of wildlife, sea, and sky exists on its own terms, unchanged and unyielding.
After our Grímsey Island excursion, Seabourn offered the exhilarating Polar Plunge — a chance to dive into the icy Arctic waters. Guests embraced the chill with laughter and cheers, the icy splash followed by the thrill of returning to the ship’s warmth. It was a heart-pounding, unforgettable way to experience the raw power of the Arctic, and a highlight many of us still talk about.
Day 6 – Húsavík: Whales & Diamond Circle
If Reykjavík is Iceland’s capital, then Húsavík is its whale capital — and the nickname proved true the moment we arrived. Even from the ship, I could see plumes of spray rising from the fjord, evidence of humpbacks feeding offshore. This small, picturesque town has long been the hub of Iceland’s whale-watching industry, and more recently it earned international fame as the setting for the Netflix film Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga. Locals speak of it with good humor, and there’s even a bar named Jaja Ding Dong after the movie’s cult song — a testament to how pop culture and small-town charm have intertwined here.
Instead of visiting the Whale Museum, I joined a bus tour around the Diamond Circle, one of North Iceland’s most spectacular routes. Our first stop was Ásbyrgi Canyon, a horseshoe-shaped gorge steeped in legend. Norse mythology claims it was formed by the hoofprint of Sleipnir, Odin’s eight-legged horse, and standing at its base it was easy to believe. Towering cliffs cradled a lush forest of birch and willow, and during a short hike, I felt transported into a hidden oasis — a striking contrast to Iceland’s otherwise stark volcanic terrain.
From there, we continued to Hverir, a geothermal wonderland where the earth itself seemed to be breathing. Steam vents hissed, fumaroles roared, and mud pots bubbled in surreal shades of ochre and gray. The air was thick with the scent of sulfur — harsh, but strangely invigorating, as though we were walking across another planet’s surface.
Our next stop was Dimmuborgir, the “Dark Castles,” a labyrinth of twisted lava formations created thousands of years ago by collapsing lava tubes. Their eerie shapes loom like fortresses, arches, and even figures, inspiring Icelandic folklore that elves and trolls live among the rocks. Wandering through the paths, I half expected a hidden creature to reveal itself.
The day’s final highlight was Goðafoss Waterfall, “The Waterfall of the Gods.” Its name comes from the year 1000, when Iceland’s lawspeaker symbolically cast his pagan idols into the falls after Christianity was adopted. Today, it is one of Iceland’s most beautiful waterfalls, a wide crescent curtain of glacial water plunging into a turquoise pool below. Standing at the edge, with mist cooling my face, I felt the history and power of this site converge — both natural and cultural.
Back aboard the Seabourn Venture, the day ended on a completely different note — playful rather than profound. As Arctic twilight lingered outside, our Cruise Director hosted a disco warm-up in the lounge, sequins glittering and laughter filling the room. Then came “Rock the Boat” with DJ Arek, turning the Observation Bar into a full-on dance floor. It was a delightful paradox: natural wonders by day, disco lights and dancing by night. That contrast is, perhaps, the true joy of expedition cruising — being awed by nature in the morning, and then celebrating life’s sparkle with newfound friends by evening.
Day 7 – Papey: A Whisper of Monks & Puffins
Arriving at Papey Island felt like stepping into a secret chapter of Iceland’s history. The island, just off the coast of East Iceland, is small and uninhabited today, but it once supported a tiny community of farmers and fishermen until the mid-20th century. Papey’s name comes from the Irish monks, or “Papar,” who are believed to have settled here long before Norsemen arrived. Their presence gives the island a slightly mystical aura, as though it carries echoes of Iceland’s earliest spiritual life.
But Papey is not only about history — it is also a sanctuary for wildlife. As our Zodiac floated quietly near shore, thousands of puffins darted around us, their orange beaks flashing like sparks. Seals lifted their dark, liquid eyes from the kelp-strewn rocks, watching us with quiet curiosity. Somewhere on the island, the ruins of a turf chapel hinted at the Celtic monks who once lived here in solitude.
The moment that most touched me? When our Zodiac cut its engine in a hidden cove. The world fell silent except for wind and waves. A single puffin landed nearby, cocking its head at us as if we were intruders in an ancient story. I felt humbled, reminded that some places don’t reveal themselves fully — they ask only that you listen.
As Papey faded back into fog, I knew this voyage aboard Seabourn Venture was not just about luxury or destinations, but about connection — to history, to nature, and to the quiet corners of the world where time still stands still.
Day 8 – Disembarking in Tórshavn, Faroe Islands
In the pale morning light, Seabourn Venture glided quietly into the sheltered harbor of Tórshavn, the tiny yet vibrant capital of the Faroe Islands. After a week of sailing along volcanic coastlines, crossing the Arctic Circle, and discovering remote Icelandic islands, this felt like the perfect final chapter — a landing place where myth, history, and modern creativity all meet.
The journey from Iceland to the Faroes had been memorable in its own right. For hours we cut across the stormy North Atlantic, waves crashing against the bow and spray lashing the decks. It was a reminder that these waters have always been both barrier and bridge — the same seas that challenged Viking explorers and St. Brendan, yet connected these far-flung islands to the wider world. The thrill of navigating such untamed waters gave the final leg of the voyage a sense of drama and reverence.
Tórshavn may be small, but its name carries the weight of legend. Derived from Thor, the Norse god of thunder, the town sits in a place one might not expect of such a stormy deity — a calm natural harbor framed by emerald grasslands and steep basalt cliffs. As I stepped ashore, the contrast was striking: traditional turf-roofed houses clustered around narrow lanes, while just beyond, glass-fronted cafés and boutiques buzzed with the hum of a new generation. It was easy to see why The New York Times called this town a “nexus of creativity.”
For me, disembarkation was bittersweet. After days of kayaking beneath bird cliffs, hiking volcanic valleys, and toasting the midnight sun with newfound friends, it was difficult to step away from the rhythm of expedition life. Yet, watching the Faroese flags fluttering in the harbor, I felt a sense of closure. This journey had traced not only a geographical arc but also a human one — from ancient sagas and myths to the bright, contemporary spirit of the Faroes. As I rolled my bag down the gangway for the last time, I paused to look back at the Seabourn Venture. She had carried us safely through mist, mountains, cliffs, and stormy seas, always steady, always welcoming. The adventure was ending, but the stories, the landscapes, and the laughter would sail with me long after.
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