The Laugavegur Trail winds through Iceland’s largest geothermal system, where steam vents, bubbling geysers, and other geothermal features create a landscape in constant movement. Set high in the Icelandic Highlands, the nature reserve is exposed to harsh weather, sparse flora, and low average temperatures. In July and August, when the trail sees most of its hikers, nights sometimes drop below freezing, while daytime highs hover between 5°C and 15°C. The wind can make it feel much colder and it's not too uncommon that the preserve's wardens would evacuate hikers due to extremely strong winds, even in the middle of summer.

I did this trail with my daughter. She said it was her best and worst experience at the same time. Here’s a look at our 5-day itinerary, followed by some practical details about the trail itself, plus how to get there and make the most of your own Laugavegur adventure.

Most hikers arrive at the trailhead in Landmannalaugar in the early afternoon after taking a morning hiker shuttle from Reykjavík. We didn’t want to cut it too close: our flight landed around 5 a.m., and we also wanted to explore the capital for a few hours and having a breakfast before heading out. So we decided to book the 12:30 p.m. bus from Reykjavík.

The buses are very cool. They’re basically trucks - massive 4- or 6-wheelers - with a passenger coach mounted on top. The high clearance lets them tackle steep, uneven hills and river crossings with ease. It’s also nearly impossible to get a flat tire in one of these beasts.

We arrived to Landmannalaugar at 4:20 p.m. The ride was scenic and adventurous, especially the last two hours when the bus goes completely off-road.

We camped overnight near the Landmannalaugar hut. It was windy, but not too cold, thanks to sunshine on both days. One thing that’s very unusual about Iceland in the summer is that it never gets dark. You can literally read a book at 2:00 a.m. My headlamp ended up being the only tool in my backpack I didn’t need to use. Duct tape and an emergency blanket were the other two - but that was expected.

The best thing about this campground is its proximity to natural hot springs, which made this place famous long before cars ever reached it. A genuine Nordic spa! Despite its popularity, only high-clearance 4x4s and buses can get here - and honestly, I’d keep it that way. You don’t want this place to become overly touristy.

The stream is dammed to form a small lake where people can swim and relax. Unlike a typical pool with a thermostat, the temperature here is naturally comfortable, but don’t get too close to the stream. The hot water comes in waves, not like your average hot tub. The stones you sit on are surprisingly hot - especially if you slide your hand underneath them

Our dinner was ramen with cod liver, our go-to camping meal for the next five days. It’s actually one of my favorites: tasty, filling, and exactly what you need after a long day in the highlands. A fun fact that the canned cod liver I brought from Canada was actually made in Iceland! 

Originally, we planned to hike just 12 km / 7.5 miles that day to the next campground at the Hrafntinnusker hut. But a warden strongly recommended we push on to the Álftavatn hut instead. Hrafntinnusker sits at high elevation and is notorious to be cold and windy. She told us she camped there once and would never do it again. Heavy rain was also in the forecast, which would’ve made for a miserable night. The only thing that makes that campground bearable are the stone walls at each site. There was even a chance of snow instead of rain - drier, but still rough.

I’m glad we took her advice, though hiking 24 km / 15 miles with 1,000 m / 3,300 ft of a total elevation gain and loss on the first day was tough. But we probably avoided the worst camping experience of the trip.

Despite being physically demanding, the trail was constantly lifting our spirits with its beauty. The scenery changed every 30 minutes or so - never boring, always breathtaking.

For most of the route, we hiked through Arctic tundra, rich with blooming plants. I often wondered how such tiny flowers survive in this harsh environment. Many grow straight out of lava rocks. To my surprise, bumblebees pollinate them - so all that bloom isn’t just for show.

Just ten minutes from the busy campground, we spotted a Rock Ptarmigan with four tiny chicks. One chick hadn’t crossed the trail in time and the mother was clearly nervous, making soft, anxious sounds. We paused to let the little one rejoin its family. Their grey and yellow coloring blended perfectly with the landscape.

This volcanic system is unique because it primarily erupts rhyolite - a silica-rich volcanic rock. That’s what gives the area its vibrant, colorful mountains and rugged black lava fields.

Since we were hiking uphill in the sun for the first half of the day, we only wore our base layers.

The geothermal features were a highlight. One geyser in particular was constantly spitting out boiling water. Even when we couldn’t see them, we could hear them underground - and definitely smell them. Sulfur was in the air.

Near the springs, algae in bizarre colours grew along the edges. Sinister, yet beautiful.

Before reaching the Hrafntinnusker hut, we crossed a long lava field covered in snow. It was the coldest place on the entire hike.

At the end of that barren stretch, we came upon a field of obsidian. It reflected the light like black diamonds - so cool.

We had lunch at the Hrafntinnusker hut. The views were incredible, but it was cold and very windy. After a quick break, we began a long, difficult crossing of a snow-filled valley - the highest point on the trail. The views in every direction were absolutely stunning.

Next came a long, cascading waterfall, tumbling from yellow rocks. It looked like something out of a dream.

Ahead of us was a bird’s-eye view of a massive green valley. We were about to descend into it. We could already see our campground at Álftavatn, but it was still a long way down. The descent was steep, with lots of switchbacks. We saw a few hikers without proper boots struggling badly. I don’t envy anyone doing that in the rain. Hiking poles are a must here, your knees will thank you.

Then came our first icy river crossing. This one had a rope to hold onto. The water was straight from a glacier, freezing cold. The crossing took only about 15 seconds, but my feet went numb and hurt like crazy. Thankfully, not for long as I quickly put on my warm merino wool socks.

We hiked the last 3 km in complete silence passing over two groups of hikers. All that was on our minds was to take off our backpacks as quickly as possible. Luckily, it was a flat stretch.

Finding a campsite wasn’t hard, but no matter where you pitch your tent, you’re exposed to wind. We had to use lots of rocks from a nearby field to secure our tent. Sometimes we had to wait for wind gusts to calm down before continuing. As tired as we were, we rushed to get the tent up before the heavy rain hit around 7 p.m.

The night was rough. I could barely sleep. It felt like the tent might blow away. If not for the two of us, our backpacks, and all the rocks we used to fortify it, I’m sure it could’ve happened. I later read that hikers are sometimes evacuated from this site due to dangerously strong winds.

We didn’t fully appreciate it at the time, but the campground is nestled in a stunning green valley beside a huge lake. The views in every direction were mesmerizing!

What this campground lacked was a communal shelter, so we ate inside our tent. It was just too cold to eat outside.

We woke up around 8 a.m., after most of our neighbours had already packed up their tents. With only 16 km / 10 miles to cover, we weren’t in a rush to get going.

We ate inside our tent and skipped showers - it was simply too cold to take one anyway. Our tent was wet, but that wasn’t a problem since we’d be setting it up again later that day.

Looking back, this day’s hike was the least exciting, especially the second half. Aside from the first hour, the scenery barely changed. The trail wound up and down through the same green valley we had descended into the day before.

Mosses were common on the mountain slopes, adding a distinct green character to the otherwise muted landscape. We had two river crossings that day, but the current in both was much gentler than the one on our first day. No ropes were necessary.

The highlight of the day was a deep canyon with a rushing river. Thankfully, we didn’t have to cross it on foot. A sturdy footbridge had been built across it.

The last two hours were spent crossing a vast, almost flat lava field. It drizzled the entire day, but it didn’t bother us. We found a small shelter behind some large rocks to eat our snacks. No ramen or rice this time, just beef jerky and chocolate-covered almonds.

The final 20 minutes or so was a steep descent into a cozy little valley. From the top, the Emstrur hut looked picture-perfect.

What struck me was how much vegetation this small valley had compared to the rest of the day’s terrain which was mostly moss-covered and exposed lava fields. The valley offered shelter not just to people, but to all kinds of plants. Some were huge, juicy, and full of life.

We pitched our tent by the stream, hoping the sound of running water would soothe us to sleep. And it certainly did, because we slept like babies that night. The drizzle was light, and there was almost no wind.

Our late lunch or early dinner (who cares) coincided with beer time for a large Dutch group that had taken over most of the communal shelter. Their dinner wasn’t arriving for a few hours, so they sat drinking Pilsner and eating Pringles from the campground store, occasionally glancing at our Spanish rice with cod liver, which smelled particularly tasty.

The Dutch, like many Europeans, have different standards for personal space and will happily invade yours if given the chance - especially in a small shelter like this. But I didn’t mind. These fellow hikers are my crowd, and I feel very comfortable among them. Everyone was friendly and clearly enjoying their hiking experience.

We woke up very late - around 9:30 a.m. Once again, there was no need to rush. We only had 16 km / 10 miles to cover that day.

After our usual breakfast of oatmeal and tea, we packed up our tent and got ready to go. By the time we set off, hikers from our previous campground were already arriving and setting up for the night. They must have covered at least four hours of hiking by late morning!

The scenery on our third and final day of hiking was incredible. Early on, we descended into a stunning red canyon carved by a powerful, murky grey river. The black and white glacier that gave that river birth was right there. The current was so strong that even crossing it on a footbridge felt a bit uneasy. The sulfuric smell in the air reassured the river’s volcanic origin.

Beyond the canyon, the valley was guarded by a wall of basalt columns, formed when lava, under immense underground pressure, couldn’t reach the surface. These columns often take on a hexagonal shape, the strongest in nature. Ask the bees if you don’t believe me!

Climbing up the hill, we were rewarded with a 360-degree view of the surrounding mountains, while still being able to peer back into the deep canyon below.

We stopped for lunch near a small stream, completely sheltered from the wind. It was clear we were descending in elevation: the landscape was changing rapidly. For the first time in three days, we saw birch and willow trees. First small, then gradually taller, until we found ourselves in a dense forest.

The open fields featured patches of red grass, which wild sheep seemed to prefer to feast on. One sheep family even let us get close enough for some great photos. Clearly, they are used to seeing people on this trail.

After one final river crossing, we entered a magical forest filled with wildflowers, including vibrant blue and purple lupins.

One of the best moments of the entire hike was spotting the Langidalur hut in Thórsmörk, proudly flying the Icelandic flag. Thórsmörk means "the land of Thor", the Norse god of thunder and lightning. Towering above the campground were two massive glaciers that created a dramatic and unforgettable backdrop for the hut.

I couldn’t believe I was still in Iceland. The lush greenery and dense vegetation made it feel more like the German Alps. Our campsite was on soft grass, not hard lava rock (can you believe!), surrounded by trees up to 20 m / 60 ft tall.

And yes - I finally took a shower after four days of backpacking. And no, I didn’t stink and dirt didn’t fall off by itself (in case you were wondering). But those five minutes in the shower were absolute bliss.

The next day was slow and relaxing. Our bus wasn’t scheduled to arrive until 3:15 p.m., so we had plenty of time to sleep in, eat, and just do nothing. We played UNO, read, and shared stories, enjoying the calm after three physically-demanding days on the trail.

The bus arrived right on time slowly crossing three or four streams, and with that, we bid farewell to one of the best hikes of our life. It was also the perfect father-daughter bonding experience - something I’ll always remember!

Happy hiking!