Winter Iceland: The Practical Magic of Being Warm Enough
British edition, originally written in 2020.
Iceland is my spiritual home. The first time I went solo. I cried on the way to the airport, in the airport, on the plane — terrified, alone, clutching my phone like a lifeline whilst texting my mum the entire way. I’d dreamt of Iceland for years because of Björk, because something in me needed to know what it felt like to stand in a place that made her.
Over time, I knew what I was doing. I’d learnt that chasing the aurora at 2am requires more than courage. It requires the right clothes that gives the ultimate freedom to explore.
This isn’t a fashion guide. I don’t care if you look Instagrammable. I care that you’re warm enough to actually experience Iceland instead of huddling miserably on the tour bus whilst everyone else is outside watching the sky explode with light. And yes, I’ve seen that on a few trips. Sometimes I was the only one daring to leave the bus with my camera.
Why This Matters (Beyond Just Staying Warm)
Here’s what I didn’t understand before my first trip: being cold doesn’t just make you uncomfortable. It steals the magic from you.
When you’re freezing, you can’t be present. You can’t stand still long enough to watch the aurora dance. You can’t scramble around a collapsed volcano with your arms out like you’re flying. You can’t lean against a bridge railing and cry because the landscape is so beautiful it hurts.
Someone I knew through work booked an Iceland trip. I asked what she was packing and her answer left me facepalming. I offered my advice, and she rejected it, preferring her thin “winter” jacket that she was already shivering in whilst in the UK.
When she returned, I asked her how it was. She had spent most of the entire trip on the bus next to the heater. She paid for experiences she couldn’t participate in. Her and her partner came home saying Iceland was a disappointment which they now share, advising others not to go.
Iceland wasn’t the disappointment. Being unprepared was.
So yes, I’m going to be a bit bossier than usual in this post. Because I want you to have what I had: the freedom to be completely present in one of the most magical places on Earth.
The Foundation: What Actually Keeps You Warm
British people dress inefficiently. It’s not our fault — fashion shops sell thin coats and we think base layers are only for skiing. But if you’re going to Iceland in winter, you need to think like someone who lives in the cold, not someone who occasionally endures it. The secret is layering. And layering with the right materials.
Your Feet: Where the cold will enter
Two pairs of snow boots. Yes, two. One pair can get soaking wet or break, and you don’t want to miss a trip because your boots need more drying hours.
I brought my warm Sketchers (low grip, very cosy) and my Mountain Warehouse boots (extremely grippy, less pretty). I basically lived in the grippy ones. The Sketchers were backup, but having them meant I never worried.
Socks: Merino wool thick socks for serious cold. Merino can be worn 3-4 times before washing, so you don’t need to pack many. This is the same for all merino items.
Your Legs
Merino base layer leggings are life-changing. So are thick fleece-lined leggings. I stocked up on merino from Aldi (cheap, brilliant) and fleece leggings from New Look.
During the day: fleece leggings OR base layer + jeans
For aurora hunting: base layer + fleece leggings + jeans
A note on waterproof trousers: I tried them once during relentless rain. The water transferred to my seat on the bus, creating a wet, cold situation that made everything worse. Jeans near the bus heater will dry between stops.
Your Top Half
Three layers:
Merino base layer long-sleeved top (innermost)
Merino hoodie OR mid-weight fleece hoodie (middle)
Your coat (outer — we’ll get to this)
I got long-sleeved merino tops from Aldi, a thin merino hoodie and a fleece hoodie from Mountain Warehouse.
During the day: just the thin merino hoodie under my coat
At night: all three layers
By the end of the trip, I’d acclimatised enough to ditch my coat during the day. Icelandic buildings are well-heated, so if you’re wandering Reykjavik shops, you’ll be fine with just your mid-layers.
Your Coats
Two coats. Again, yes, two. If one gets drenched, you need a dry backup.
Coat 1: I bought a highly waterproof, lined, fully adjustable mid-length coat from Trespass. Fantastic for heavy rain. Loads of pockets — I could fit my camera, credit card in the sleeve, snacks, everything. Perfect for day tours.
Coat 2: A long padded coat with thumb holes from M&S. Covers my knees. So cosy I could genuinely take a nap in the snow and still be warm.
Whilst everyone else was freezing and running back to the bus during aurora hunts, I felt like I could stand there forever. And I was always the last one back in the bus.
This is the difference between experiencing Iceland and enduring it.
The Bits You Might Forget (But Shouldn’t)
Swimsuit
Take one even if you don’t plan to use it. Iceland’s hot springs might appear as an option, and you don’t want to miss that.
Fair warning: Iceland has a naked-shower-before-bathing policy, often without private stalls. If nudity stresses you, here’s my method: get undressed in private, wrap in towel, take swimsuit to shower, wait until it’s quieter, ditch towel, shower fast but thoroughly, pull on swimsuit immediately. Minimises discomfort.
I wear swim shorts and a tankini. Not too revealing, warm enough for the dash between changing rooms.
Accessories That Actually Matter
Scarf (yes)
Two pairs of gloves: touchscreen-friendly thin ones and thick fingerless ones
Sunglasses (essential — the sun off snow is blinding)
Hat or woolly headband
Proper waterproof backpack (I used an army-style one where I could strap my coat onto when indoors)
Portable battery bank (Anker brand is brilliant — your phone will be working overtime)
Plug converter
Travel-friendly credit card (cash is rarely needed)
Water bottle
Loads of snacks (Iceland is expensive — this saves you so much money)
Self-heating pads (not amazing, but take the edge off during long aurora waits)
Sunscreen (yes, you can burn in winter)
The Camera Situation (Or: How AI Taught Me Photography)
I used to stress about camera settings. F-stops, ISO, exposure time for aurora, switching between night photography and beach, then landscape. I am the worst photographer sometimes but it’s a passion I want to be better at.
Now I upload my camera manual to AI and ask for recommended settings based on what I’m shooting. I’ll take a photo, upload it, ask for adjustments. It’s taught me so much because I can ask “why this tweak?” in real time.
For aurora, you absolutely need a tripod. And if they’re strong enough, you can video them too — something I only learnt recently.
If you’re shooting without GPS, take one photo at each location that shows where you are (signpost, obvious landmark). When you’re visiting 5-6 places a day, you lose track fast. At the end of the day, after seven waterfalls, you’ll forget which one is which.
The Money Truth
Yes, this sounds expensive upfront. But here’s what I know after years of wearing the same clothes:
My first winter boots (2016) are still going, though wearing out now. The merino layers are still good. The coats just need minor repairs. They were investments that keep me comfortable every single winter, not just in Iceland.
Shop sales early. Mountain Warehouse and Trespass have constant sales. Order a LOT, try it all on at home, return what doesn’t work, order more. Keep refining until you have your perfect cold-weather armour.
Because that’s what it is: armour against the elements that lets you be fully present for the magic.
What This Actually Gave Me
There’s nothing like scampering around a collapsed volcano in complete comfort with nothing holding you back. Standing on black sand beaches with your arms out. Watching the aurora for hours because you’re warm enough to stay.
To help, I’ve made you a packing list you can download and edit for yourself. It’s the practical side of chasing magic. You can find them at the end of this article.
Have you been to Iceland? Are you planning to go? What’s calling you there?
I’d love to hear what draws you to the frozen north. For me, it was Björk and aurora and the feeling that something wild was waiting.
If this helped you, I’d be grateful if you’d subscribe or share it with someone planning their own Iceland adventure.
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Love from,
Still wearing those 2016 boots, still chasing aurora, still believing that being warm enough to stay present is its own kind of magic.
I want to go so badly!!! This is good advice
I love the idea of a country being your spiritual home. I feel that mine is Spain.