Reykjavik’s churches are as bold and distinctive as the city itself. They showcase a fascinating blend of Icelandic tradition and daring architectural vision.

The most iconic example is Hallgrímskirkja, a Lutheran church sitting on Skólavörðuholt hill.

Designed by state architect Guðjón Samúelsson and completed in 1986 after nearly four decades of construction, it is arguably the city’s most impressive building, which dominates the skyline with its monumental presence. Its soaring 74.5-m / 245 ft tower and sweeping concrete columns were inspired by Iceland’s basalt lava formations that give the structure an almost sculptural quality. More than a place of worship, Hallgrímskirkja is a national symbol and a must-visit landmark. It also offers breathtaking panoramic views of Reykjavík from its observation deck.

Another striking Lutheran church is Háteigskirkja, located on Háteigsvegur in central Reykjavík. Its silhouette is defined by four sharply pointed steeples that rise dramatically against the horizon. 

Beyond these architectural icons, Reykjavik is dotted with smaller, more utilitarian churches that blend into residential neighbourhoods or sit near football fields.

There's a saying in Iceland about trees: "If you get lost in the forest, stand up”. That tells you something about the height of most trees in Iceland. 

I’ve only seen a handful of places in Iceland, mostly along the west coast, but it’s hard not to notice how different Reykjavik feels. The city is home to noticeably taller trees and more vegetation. The reason is simple: sheltered by nearby mountains and warmed by the Gulf Stream, Reykjavik is better protected from the island’s harsh, cold winds. This gives the city a milder microclimate that supports more abundant plant life.

And when I say “tall trees,” take it with a grain of salt. In Reykjavík, trees rarely grow beyond 10 to 15 meters (around 49 feet) due to the island’s harsh climate and salty sea spray. So while they may not be giants by global standards, they certainly stand out compared to the rest of Iceland’s sparse and stunted vegetation.

While some older natives, such as birchwoods, might reach this height in sheltered areas, planted non-native trees like pine and spruce, which are common in the capital, also struggle.

Believe it or not, but about a quarter of Iceland was once covered in forest. But when the Vikings arrived over a thousand years ago, much of that woodland was cleared for building boats and homes, and to create grazing land for sheep. What early settlers didn’t realize was that, unlike much of Europe, Iceland’s trees take centuries to regrow. Today, only about 1% of the country is forested, and despite the planting of millions of trees in recent decades, the landscape has yet to see a significant recovery. 

The city buzzes with creativity year-round and hosts many festivals, concerts, exhibitions, and performances. Events like the Reykjavík Arts Festival, Iceland Airwaves, and DesignMarch draw international attention and transform the capital into a hub of innovation and expression. For such a small city, galleries, museums, and art spaces are abundant throughout the city. 

If you venture outside the main Laugavegur Street, chances are you will come across the Harpa Concert Hall. Located on the edge of the harbour, Harpa is a striking fusion of art, architecture, and Icelandic nature. Its shimmering glass façade, designed in collaboration with artist Ólafur Elíasson, mirrors the ever-changing sky and sea, creating a kaleidoscope of light and colour. Opened in 2011, Harpa hosts everything from symphony concerts and operas to international conferences. 

The Icelandic Phallological Museum is one of the city’s most curious and unforgettable attractions. What began as a quirky personal collection of a local teacher has grown into the world’s largest display of penises and penile parts, with over 300 specimens from more than 100 species of mammals, including whales, seals, and even a human. Tell me about the hobbies! I didn’t visit it myself, but this place looks like it’s well worth a visit.

Reykjavík may be known for its long, grey winters, but its streets tell a much more colourful story. Over the past decade, the city has transformed into an open-air gallery, with more than 160 murals scattered across its neighbourhoods. What began as unsanctioned graffiti in the 1990s has evolved into a celebrated art movement.

One of my favourite art installations in Reykjavík was the series of vintage photographs from the Reykjavík Museum of Photography, which were displayed along Austurstræti Street. It forced me to take a pause and reflect on how much the city has changed, and how much of its spirit remains the same. 

One of my most magical experiences in Reykjavik was witnessing the midnight sun. This is a natural phenomenon that keeps the city in daylight well past bedtime during the summer months. From late May to mid-July, the sun barely touches the horizon. This is because Reykjavik is located at a latitude of approximately 64.13° North, just a few degrees south of the Arctic Circle. 

The extended daylight isn’t just a visual wonder: it has a profound effect on daily life. Locals and visitors alike, myself included, took full advantage of the extra hours. While I didn’t do any late-night hikes, I strolled the city between midnight and 1 in the morning, taking pictures using a tripod. You can see the result here. 

During the midnight sun, the light is soft and golden for hours. This creates perfect conditions for photography so that many photographers call it “the endless golden hour.”

I can attest first-hand that the abundance of light can boost mood and energy levels.  The drawback is the long, dark winters, which make the midnight sun feel even more special.