The wild landscapes and thermal waters of Iceland’s Hvammsvík Hot Springs work hand in hand to create one of the country’s most calming and magical water-based experiences.
At Hvammsvík, one of Iceland’s newest hot springs, nature takes centre stage with the thermal water pools surrounded by brooding mountains.
Steam rises from the dark rockpool, and with it a hint of sulphur, a fitting scent for the moody, black volcanic scenery all around me. I dip my toes in the milky water and the tension in my body begins to release. I submerge myself further and the warm geothermal water feels like a hug. I’d plunged into the ice-cold water of the Atlantic moments earlier, my skin feeling the pinch of a thousand imaginary needles. Now, I feel both invigorated and relaxed, all my troubles stripped away by the freezing saltwater followed by the warmth of the springs.
I’m at Hvammsvík. Opened in 2023, it’s the newest addition to Iceland’s impressive collection of hot springs, all of which make use of the country’s abundant geothermal waters. What’s striking about Hvammsvík is how it makes you feel at one with the surrounding landscape. “It’s about coming back to nature, the love of the land and preserving it as it is,” owner Skúli Mogensen had told me as we strolled through the grounds earlier that day.
The area, right beside the Hvalfjörður (‘Whale Fjord’) and around a 45-minute drive from Reykjavik, evokes a feeling of fantasy. Mythical creatures breaching the black surface of the water or crossing the snow-capped peaks that hug the bay wouldn’t look out of place. In fact, many Icelanders still firmly believe in these myths, passed down through generations. Without even a hint of irony, Skúli tells me of failed projects and unsuccessful developments that disturbed the fairies and elves. “I know we keep them happy here because we haven’t changed the land too much,” he says. “In return, they’re not causing us trouble.”
What Skúli has created here truly is in harmony with nature; blink and you might not even notice the main house, constructed on the foundations of a Second World War barracks building, or the four understated guest cabins for longer stays. On arrival, cars are parked a short walk away so as not to disturb the peace of the springs, and, apart from the muted chatter of other guests, the only sound filling the air is waves gently lapping the shore.
Even the eight hot springs blend seamlessly into the scenery. Heated by geothermal energy and cooled to varying degrees by the ebb and flow of the Atlantic, each pool differs in temperature, ranging from 6C in the Ocean Plunge Pool on the day of my visit to a toasty 40C in the Old Hot Spring.
There’s no right or wrong way to enjoy the pools according to Skúli. He tells me the Icelandic way is to alternate between cold and hot — shocking the body with icy water, causing a spike in endorphins, before slipping into the warm, sulphur-rich springs. Skuli has seen them perform wonders – from the healing of psoriasis, acne and eczema to the easing of muscle pain. When I ask him just how important thermal bathing is to Icelanders, his eyes light up, his voice becoming soft and pensive: “They’re a part of life here. We go to hot springs to gossip, to catch up, to even meet on a date. It’s about spending time with family and friends, but also about getting away from it all.” After a short pause, his gaze scanning the brooding mountains across the bay, he says: “As a people, we wouldn’t have survived without the warm water the land provides us with.”
Later, after my day soaking in the mineral-rich waters has come to a close, I sip a hearty bowl of seafood laksa at Stormur, Hvammsvík’s farm-to-table restaurant. Chef Hinrik Carl Ellertsson (previously of Michelin-starred Dill Restaurant in Reykjavík) has created a small but perfect menu of local ingredient-led soups, open sandwiches and salads to complement the soothing experience of the hot springs.
“I spent the first 50 years of my life trying to conquer the world. I want to spend the next 50 slowing down, connected to nature, to my land,” Skúli had said to me earlier. I look out to the mountain-ringed bay and a sense of peace envelops me. I know I’ll have a hard time peeling myself away from this landscape, too.
