Iceland in the Heart of Winter

Last spring our Icelandic friend Valdi convinced my brother Pecos and me that winter is the best time to go to Iceland. And like fools, we believed him, thank goodness, because he turned out to be wonderfully right.

Valdi, C&P

Valdi is wearing the lopapeysa his aunt knit thirty years ago. Except for the eight years his cat claimed it as her nest, he’s worn it nearly daily. After she died, he washed it, patched the elbows, and resumed the warm relationship, full of cat memories. Icelandic wool is the real thing.

Valdi introduced us to his relative, Hulda Soffia, a knit designer and primary school teacher in Reykjavik with a degree in textiles. Hulda helped us plan a community-based knitting adventure like those we lead in Peru, Ireland, and the United States. We finally met our lovely long-distance friend in person the week before our travelers arrived,

Hulda Cat Pecos rainbow

and she helped us get all our ducks (and swans) in a row, so to speak.


Reykjavik is at once grand and intimate, labyrinthine yet easy to navigate, each home uniquely charming, the window sills displaying carefully curated personal collections and hand-crocheted lace curtains, offering glimpses of the worlds within.

Window lace charm

Bird lace window Phil

photo by Phil Iverson


We chose a hotel at the top of the highest hill, where Hallgrimskirkja’s pristine architecture soars above the entire city, so our travelers could always find their way home. This is the view from the top of Hallgrimskirkja’s tower. Pecos took this photo on a sunny day just as a snowstorm began to blow in on the right.

Reykjavik with snowstorm coming

photo by Jim Petkiewicz


Dawn at the end of January begins its slow, delicious transformation at about nine,

Hallgrims shadows

photo by Jim Petkiewicz

Church dawn

photo by Jim Petkiewicz


and sometime before ten one realizes it is daylight.

Hallgrimskirkja Phil snow

photo by Phil Iverson

Viking ship sculpture

photo by Jim Petkiewicz


Around five the light becomes drowsy and by six darkness enfolds the sparkling world again.

Glimmery night house

Darkness embraces daylight like a circle of petals sheltering the unfurling tenderness at a rose’s center, making each day’s transformation serene. Icelanders wind delicate white lights around bare branches and arrange luminous treasures in windows, so that taking a walk during the so-called darkness is magical. I loved dark and light equally.

Colorful lit window

Store branches lit up

Icelanders drop mittens a lot, it seems, and so it is customary to pick up forlorn lost mittens and set them somewhere at eye level. This gate’s display changed daily as some mittens returned home and newly lost ones arrived.

Lost gloves watering hole

Many of our travelers found handknit Icelandic sweaters, tunics, and more in the Reykjavik thrift shops. Here is a rack of pre-loved children’s handknit sweaters.

Childrens sweaters thrift store

These thrift store slippers (which I photographed but for some unknown reason did not buy!) inspired me to design my own version (and pattern), which I will post when they are done.

Red slippers front

Red slippers back

I did buy these elegantly patterened mittens in the same shop and found them to be much warmer non-Icelandic wool mittens twice as thick. That good Icelandic wool…

B&W mittens

The next day I found another pair of slightly fulled woolen mittens which were made by the ancient technique of nalbinding, which predates knitting. Such a find was so unlikely that I didn’t realize what I had until our travelers Sara and Phil Iverson, who own Blue Heron Knittery in Decorah, Iowa, and whose neighbor and friend Kate Martinson is one of the world’s experts on nalbinding, confirmed the rarity of my treasure.

Tvandstickning mittens

Traditional knit designs appear everywhere in this knit-centric culture, where every child learns to knit in grade school. There is no such thing as a person who doesn’t understand and value knitting. Here is a stained glass window with a knitting pattern,

Church pattern

and a bridge railing with a yoke design.

Bridge chart

Everyone from active construction workers to babies, wears sweaters, for they are beautiful and durable.

Green sweater

Every morning we gathered in our hotel’s breakfast room for knitting workshop, where I taught my unpublished Icelandic yoke sock architecture. The method invites variation, so in addition to socks, several chose to knit legwarmers, and one made an Icelandic Christmas stocking.

Susan legwarmers

Icelandic food is beautifully presented and satisfying.

Fish soup

The freshest fish, succulent lamb (rivaling El Albergue in Ollantaytambo, Peru), soups, stews, open-face sandwiches, even rye bread ice cream (hidden beneath the whipped cream)!

first breakfast

Tucked here and there are tiny food shops that beckon you to enter their enchanted world,

Little grocery

that includes flowers…


Licorice (lakris) rules the candy counter (imagine licorice coated in good chocolate!) as well as gourmet shelves.


Abundant, well-fed cats roam Reykjavik’s streets and gardens. Since all dogs are leashed, the cats know they are free to explore, and do. Here is a friend I made on the way to the geothermal pool and hot pots a few minutes’ walk from our hotel.

Tortoise kitty side

Cats slip in and out of windows, which tend to be left open because of the plentiful geothermal heat,

Cat door-window

wait for shops doors to open so they can pitter-patter inside,

B&W cat waiting at shop door

and cuddle in a passersby’s warm arms (that would be me),

Icelandic kitty

Or wait by the door.

cat of the day

One morning Hulda Hákonardóttir gave us a tour of the Istex Mill where all Lopi and Alafoss yarns are born, from bales

Chashmerey Lopi

photo by Jim Petkiewicz


to broad swaths of batting

Combed fiber

to finished yarn. Istex is celebrating a 25th anniversary this year and each month will release a free pattern, like this one which Hulda was still proofing.

Istex sweater

From there we traveled to Alafoss, a legendary shop with everything from handknits to yarn to gifts.

Alafoss nearby


And made a final stop at Litla Prjónabúðin, a small and utterly entrancing shop where we fell in love with a fox,

Fox sheep raven sweater

photo and arrangement by Jim Petkiewicz


And every nook and cranny in this fairyland of a shop.

Red yoke sweater

One evening we drove out to Handprjon, a spacious, and beautiful shop in Hafnarfjordur, to commingle, sup, and knit with Hulda Soffia’s knitting group.

Handprjon Intercambio

photo by Jim Petkiewicz


Owner Drífa Alfreðsdóttir has created a spacious and welcoming home for knitters, with a fantastic selection of really interesting yarns, some under her own label and others from other Nordic countries and Scotland.

Drifa's yarn

She even offers a pattern for a hat or mittens with a silhouette of Iceland as the centerpiece! Lucky me, she sent me home with a kit. By the time we return in January of 2017, I’ll know the island’s shape well.

Iceland hat mittens phil

Drifa’s shop is a knitter’s labor of love: her wallpaper is ribbing, and she made swift-chandeliers. And above all, she and her talented assistants are devoted to service and hospitality.

Drifa's lights

Like Icelandic sweaters, Icelandic children are sturdy and beautiful.


Babies thrive on long outdoor naps (well bundled, of course) year-round, like the little one tucked inside this carriage while its parents enjoy being with friends inside the restaurant.

Snowy nap

photo by Jim Petkiewicz


Children are safe walking to and from school or heading out to play on a neighborhood tire swing in the snow.

Tire swing

We made the most of our final morning by heading an hour out of town to Þingborg, a rural collective of farmers and artisans who mill their own icelandic fleeces with great care and use plant-based dyes. We arrived as the sun was just clearing the horizon,

Sunrise snow water

and the horses across the road were waiting for breakfast.

Horses dawn

photo by Jim Petkiewicz


Inside, with limited time because most of us had flights to catch, we chose treasures, like batting carefully rolled in paper

batting rainbow

elf musicians,

Pingborg elf musicians

And buttons. I bought a year’s supply of Icelandic wool to play with, until we return for more in 2017.

Pingborg buttons

Just outside the door we all paused to imprint this scene in our hearts forever…

Pecos snowy self portrait

photo (and self-portrait) by Jim Petkiewicz


Back in Reykjavik, a final walk along the harbor,

Circle ship

photo by Jim Petkiewicz


And climbing back up the hill, wistful smiles at the now familiar colorful face of storefronts,

Kiki & Cat

photo by Jim Petkiewicz


and one last view of Hallgrimskirkja.

Hallg trees dusk

Thank you, Valdi, (buttoning up the sweater, we brought back for him) how right you were. Without your bright spirit and promise that winter in Iceland can be glorious, we and our travelers might never have had this magnificent experience.

Valdi and his sweater

Note: We won’t have our 2017 Iceland trip PDF posted for several more months, but if you wish to be on the interest list, email me (see contact in side menu) with “Iceland” in the subject line.