Iceland Ring Road with a Toddler: Our 2-Week Adventure (2025 Guide)

Iceland was always calling, but sheer distance had made it too daunting. Now that we were based in Stockholm, that time had finally arrived. Iceland is known for its long hikes, unpredictable weather, remote roads and swathes of emptiness - not the sort of destination you first think of when traveling with kids. Despite that, last summer, my wife and I decided to take the plunge and spend two weeks driving the entire Ring Road with our three-year-old daughter.

And yes, traveling with our toddler shaped our trip - slower, lots of rest stops and breaks, but also without the pressure to 'see it all'. And honestly, that might have been the best way to experience Iceland.

Landing in Iceland

The three-hour hop to Reykjavík (Keflavik) airport was uneventful and thankfully our daughter had decided to nap the whole way. The sharp bite of the July air served as a firm reminder that we had arrived in the Arctic. Our rental car pickup was off-airport - a minor inconvenience but that short shuttle offered us the first glimpse of the surreal landscapes that would quietly become the norm. We soon got our hands on a well used but sturdy Suzuki Vitara 4x4 - our home on wheels for the next couple of weeks.

Instead of heading to the city of Reykjavík, we planned to spend our first night in the small town of Selfoss. We had hoped to take the scenic coastal route, but a recent volcanic eruption near Grindavik had made that impossible. The hour-and-a-half journey on the highway was however far from boring - the volcanic emptiness has a charm that's hard to describe!

We stayed at the unimaginatively named Hotel Selfoss- not fancy, but perfect for a restful day. We also explored the pleasant little town on foot and grabbed some dinner at a former dairy factory that has been converted into a modern foodhall, which offered more variety than I had expected. The town square was lovely and well worth a stroll, and a promenade along the river made a relaxing end to our evening before calling it a night.

Golden Circle: Iceland’s Greatest Hits

The Golden Circle tour is Iceland's most visited itinerary and Selfoss was a great base to start that journey. After a brief stopover at the Hrafnagjá observation deck we arrived at the Þingvellir (Thingvellir) national park. Located at the edge of where the Eurasian and North American tectonic plates pull apart, we got to walk through a valley that sits between two continents! One end of the valley path leads you to the Öxarárfoss waterfall.

We moved on to Gulfoss which is a magestic 2-tiered waterfall that crashes 32 metres into a narrow canyon. The name means "Golden Falls" and on a sunny day like ours the misty sprays create rainbows all around.

We ended the loop at the Geysir geothermal area, home to several hot springs. While the original Great Geysir is dormant these days, its trusty neighbor Strokkur erupts every 10 minutes or so, shooting boiling water 30 metres high. The anticipation for the next eruption and the palpable tension among the people waiting with cameras ready is as thrilling as the main event. Diya was so excited each time that we spent a good hour captivated by this spectacular natural phenomenon.

Before heading back to Selfoss, we made a quick stop at Kerið Crater. A beautiful turquoise lake lies within the crater and a leisurely walk along the rim is a must do.

Hot Springs and Hidden Waterfalls

Our first stop on Day 3 was at the natural hot spring of Secret Lagoon in Flúðir. A big reason to choose this place was because it had a laid-back rustic vibe and more child friendly when compared to the more famous Blue Lagoon - and we all loved it!

We then drove to east to Seljalandfoss - the famous one where you can walk behind the waterfall. It was one hell of an experience and I just couldn't get enough of it. The memory of standing behind the water curtain is definitely etched forever! Also nearby is Gljúfrabúi which is a hidden gem a short walk away - a more understated waterfall than its more famous neighbour.

By evening we headed towards the town of Vik where we stayed for the night at the beautiful Hotel Katla. After check-in we still had some time left to explore the nearby black sand beach of Reynisfjara. The beauty of the black sand is framed on one side by the basalt columns of the Hálsanefshellir Cave. You can also take a glimpse of the Eyjafjallajökull volcano - that famous one whose eruption in 2010 causes planes across Europe to come to a standstill.

We had our dinner at the cleverly named Wok in Vik - and to our pleasant surprise we bumped into another Malayalee couple there - the world felt so small!

Puffins, Glaciers, and Boat Rides

We kicked off Day 4 with a short drive to Dyrhólaey arch - a massive rock formation jutting out into the Atlantic. But honestly, we were there for one reason: puffins. And they did not disappoint. Diya was absolutely mesmerized watching these comical little birds waddle around with their orange beaks and tuxedo-like plumage. The viewing area was easy enough to navigate with a toddler (mostly flat, with ropes to keep little ones from wandering too close to cliff edges).

From there, we detoured to Fjaðrárgljúfur canyon - a mossy, serpentine gorge that looked like something out of a fantasy novel. The upper path along the rim is walkable with a toddler if you're determined. The views were worth the stop, though we didn't linger long since the wind was particularly fierce that day.

The real highlight, though, was Jökulsárlón Glacier Lagoon. Massive chunks of ice - some brilliant white, others a deep glacial blue - float silently in the lagoon before making their way out to sea. We bumped into the malayalee couple there again and with a little push from them we indulged in a boat tour among the icebergs, and it was worth every króna! The tour operators were great with Diya, letting her touch a piece of ancient glacial ice they pulled from the water.

Just across the road from the lagoon is Diamond Beach, where ice chunks wash up on the black sand and sparkle in the sunlight. We spent a good half hour just walking along the shore, examining the ice formations. Diya was convinced they were dragon eggs.

We pushed on to Höfn for the night - a fishing town that's famous for its langoustine (which we definitely indulged in at dinner). Our guesthouse, Sefdalur, had sweeping views of the mountains and the kind of Icelandic hospitality that makes you feel like you're visiting family.

Hiking at Fláajökull Glacier

Day 5 turned out to be one of those unplanned moments that becomes a trip highlight. I'd spotted Fláajökull glacier on Google Maps - not a famous tourist spot, just a blue marker indicating glacier access. On a whim, we decided to check it out.

The drive there was... an adventure. The road deteriorated from paved to gravel to "is this still a road?" terrain. A couple of bridges had been washed away by glacial melt, and we had to navigate some creative detours along the edge of a glacial lake. The Suzuki earned its keep that day. My wife kept giving me the look - you know the one - but pressed on because we'd come this far.

The parking area was completely empty. Not another soul around. We packed up our toddler supplies (snacks, water, extra layers, more snacks) and set off on what was supposed to be a 2-3 km hike to get close to the glacier terminus.

With Diya, it took us nearly three hours. Not because the terrain was difficult, but because she insisted on examining every rock, collecting "special sticks," and having elaborate conversations with her stuffed puffin toy. And you know what? That slow pace made it magical. The silence was profound - just the distant rumble of glacial melt and the crunch of volcanic gravel under our feet. The glacier loomed larger with each step, revealing its dirty snout where it meets the moraine.

We had our supermarket sandwiches sitting on rocks, watching the glacier, completely alone in this raw landscape. It's the kind of experience you can't really plan for, and probably wouldn't happen if you didn't have a toddler forcing you to slow down and just... exist in the moment.

The drive back to Höfn felt easier somehow, even though the road was just as rough. We stayed another night at the same guesthouse - partly because it was lovely, partly because we were too tired to move on.

Eastfjords Charm

Day 6 was a driving day - but what a drive. The Eastfjords are dramatically different from the south coast: steep mountains plunging into narrow fjords, one hairpin turn after another, tiny fishing villages clinging to the coastline. It's the kind of landscape that makes you pull over every fifteen minutes because the views are just that good.

We stopped at Snædalsfoss waterfall early on - not a famous one, just a beautiful cascade right by the road. Perfect for a leg-stretch and some rock-throwing into the pool below (a toddler essential activity, apparently).

The quirkiest stop was Petra's Stone Collection in Stöðvarfjörður. An elderly woman named Petra spent decades collecting stones and minerals from the surrounding area, and her house is now a museum absolutely packed with colorful rocks. Is it life-changing? No. Did Diya love pointing at all the "jewels" and "treasure"? Absolutely. Sometimes the random stops are the ones that resonate most with kids. Special call out to the cafe attached to place - we were greated by Petra's granddaughter who was lovely and specially sweet to Diya.

By evening we reached Fáskrúðsfjörður, a tiny town with an unexpected French connection - it was once a base for French fishermen, and the street signs are still bilingual. Our hotel, Fosshotel Eastfjords, was perched right on the water with a excellent restaurant that served the freshest fish we had on the entire trip. After days of dramatic landscapes and constant driving, this quiet evening felt like exactly what we needed.

North Iceland: Power and Playfulness

The drive north from the Eastfjords continued the pattern: breathtaking (okay, using that word once) scenery and not much else. We stopped at a few viewpoints with names I can barely pronounce - Útsynipallur Grænafjall was one, offering panoramic views of the northern highlands.

Dettifoss was our big destination for Day 7. It's Europe's most powerful waterfall, and you feel that power before you even see it - the ground literally vibrates under your feet. The spray rises so high you can see it from the parking area. We approached from the west side (easier access, better with kids) and Diya was equal parts thrilled and terrified by the thundering water. We lasted about twenty minutes before the noise and spray sent us retreating back to the car.

From there we headed to Ásbyrgi canyon, a horseshoe-shaped depression that Norse mythology says was created by Odin's horse Sleipnir. The mythology aside, it's a lovely spot for an easier walk. There's a small pond and surprisingly lush vegetation (by Icelandic standards), and Diya actually walked most of the trail herself happily.

We spent that night in Húsavík, checking into Fosshotel Húsavík. The town bills itself as the whale watching capital of Iceland, and we'd planned to test that claim the next day.

Day 8 started with a loop around Lake Mývatn - a geothermal wonderland that felt like another planet. We hit the highlights: the pseudo-craters at Skútustaðagígar (easy walking, weird lunar landscape), Dimmuborgir lava formations (short trails through dramatic rock formations), and Hverir geothermal area with its bubbling mud pots and steaming vents.

The Mývatn Nature Baths were our reward for being good tourists. It's like Blue Lagoon's more relaxed northern cousin - same milky blue water, similar mineral content, but cheaper and less crowded. Diya splashed around in the shallow areas while we actually relaxed for the first time in days. The surrounding views of the volcanic landscape while soaking in hot water is pretty special, even if you're keeping one eye on your kid the whole time.

Our afternoon stop was Goðafoss - the "waterfall of the gods" - which has a semicircular cascade that's impressive without being overwhelming. Easy viewing platforms, not too loud, perfect for tired families.

Back in Húsavík, we grabbed fish and chips from a local spot and confirmed our whale watching tour for the next morning. Diya fell asleep before 7 PM, exhausted from the volcanic wanderings.

Siglufjörður and the North Coast

Day 9 brought one of those experiences that reminds you why Iceland is special - whale watching from Húsavík. We'd booked with "Friends of Moby Dick" based purely on their ethical approach (they emphasize respect for the whales, smaller boats, no chasing).

The tour delivered beyond expectations. About forty minutes in, a humpback whale surfaced near our boat and seemed genuinely curious about us. It circled around, came close enough that we could hear its blow, and at one point slapped its tail against the water - which according to our guide was playful behavior. Diya's eyes were the size of dinner plates. We also saw countless puffins bobbing on the waves, which thrilled her just as much.

The three-hour tour felt like one hour. Even though it was July, bundle up - it's cold out on the water. We'd brought Diya's full winter gear from Stockholm and she still needed an extra blanket from the crew.

From Húsavík, we drove through Akureyri (Iceland's second-largest city, though that's relative - it has 20,000 people) where we grabbed lunch. We made a brief stop in Dalvík, mostly to break up the drive, then continued to Siglufjörður for the night.

Siglufjörður deserves more attention than it gets. This remote fishing town, tucked into a dramatic fjord at the edge of the Tröllaskagi peninsula, used to be only accessible by boat or a harrowing mountain road. Now there's a tunnel, but it's still delightfully isolated. Our hotel, Siglo Hotel, was converted from an old herring factory and warehouse, with industrial-chic interiors and windows overlooking the harbor.

We stopped at Leyningsfoss, a lovely waterfall that you can get to after a short trek in a lovely forest. This is quite close to the town and is a bit of a lesser known gem that I truly recommend. Had a tryst with some cute Icelandic sheep there as well.

We had dinner at Torgið restaurant - reindeer for me, Arctic char for my wife, and Diya somehow convinced the waiter to make her pasta (which wasn't on the menu, but Icelanders are impossibly nice to children).

The next morning we visited Langhús Farm for a pony ride experience. Icelandic horses are technically ponies (small, sturdy, five-gaited), and they're everywhere in Iceland.

The farm was family-run, and they clearly knew their way around nervous toddlers. They started Diya on the gentlest pony, walking circles in a small paddock while my wife held her steady. By the end of the session, Diya was grinning like she'd just conquered Everest. The farm was beautiful too - valley views, old turf buildings, the works.

We spent the afternoon driving south along the Tröllaskagi peninsula. This is some of Iceland's most dramatic coastal scenery: sheer cliffs dropping into the sea, waterfalls tumbling directly into the ocean, mountains rising straight up from the shoreline. .

The Western Circuit

Day 11 was almost entirely driving, but we'd learned by now that "just driving" in Iceland is never just driving. We made our way down the western side of Iceland with strategic stops to break up the journey.

The basalt columns at Staðarbjörg were our first stop - dramatic hexagonal rock formations that look almost artificial. Quick photo stop, let Diya run around for ten minutes, back in the car.

Glaumbær Turf Farm and Museum gave us a glimpse of how Icelanders lived historically - houses built into the hillside with grass roofs. Diya was convinced Hobbits lived there (we didn't correct her). The museum was interesting enough but felt long with a restless toddler. You can probably skip it and see the turf houses from outside the church.

Kolugljúfur Canyon was worth the stop - another striking gorge with a waterfall, and Diya could actually walk most of the viewing path herself. We then made a detour to Hvítserkur, a distinctive rock formation rising from the sea that supposedly looks like a dragon or troll (we saw both, depending on the angle).

By evening we reached Stykkishólmur on the Snæfellsnes peninsula and checked into Akkeri Guesthouse. The guesthouse was simple but spotless, and the owner went out of her way to recommend restaurants and draw us a custom map of tomorrow's route. This is peak Iceland - strangers treating you like long-lost relatives.

Snæfellsnes Peninsula and Reykjavík

Day 12 on the Snæfellsnes peninsula felt like someone had compressed all of Iceland's greatest hits into one manageable peninsula. We started with Kirkjufell mountain - probably Iceland's most photographed mountain (that distinctive cone shape appears in everything from travel guides to Game of Thrones). We didn't climb it (not with a three-year-old), just took the obligatory photos from the viewpoint and let Diya wade in the stream.

Next was Saxhóll crater - an easy(-ish) climb up stairs built into the volcanic cone. The 360-degree views from the top were worth the five-minute climb, and Diya was proud of herself for making it up. Small victories.

Djúpalónssandur was our favorite stop of the day - a black pebble beach with the rusted remains of a British trawler that wrecked in 1948. The round, smooth pebbles (which you're supposed to leave there - take only photos, etc.) were endlessly fascinating to Diya. We spent an hour here easily, just playing on the beach while the waves crashed against the rocks.

Our final stop was Búlandshöfði viewpoint, overlooking bird cliffs where thousands of seabirds nest. The lighthouse there is picture-perfect, and we actually saw some seals lounging on the rocks below.

We headed back to Stykkishólmur for another night at the same guesthouse. Sometimes staying put two nights in a row is the right call.

Day 13 brought another stunning coastal drive. Ytri Tunga beach was marked on our map as a seal colony, and we weren't disappointed. Dozens of seals were hauled out on the rocks, sunbathing like giant sausages. We had to shush Diya repeatedly (seals spook easily), but we got within maybe 20 meters before they started slipping back into the water. Worth the detour.

We stopped briefly at Gerðuberg basalt cliffs (more impressive hexagonal columns, starting to feel like we were on a geological bingo card) and then Hraunfossar - a series of waterfalls that emerge from underneath a lava field and flow into a glacial river. It's beautiful in a completely different way from the powerful waterfalls we'd seen elsewhere - more delicate, more mysterious.

By evening we'd reached Reykjavík, checking into Fosshotel Rauðará. I'll be honest - after two weeks of friendly guesthouses and charming small hotels, this place felt cold. The receptionist was borderline rude, the staff seemed annoyed by basic questions, and the whole vibe was just off. We later learned we weren't alone in this assessment (checking reviews after the fact is always enlightening).

We spent our first Reykjavík evening at Hallgrímskirkja, the iconic church that dominates the city skyline. We took the elevator up to the bell tower for panoramic views of the city. Unfortunately, the bells chose that exact moment to ring for the evening hour, and Diya completely panicked at the noise. We made a hasty retreat down the elevator, her hands clamped over her ears, and spent the next hour convincing her that bells wouldn't follow us home to Stockholm.

Our last full day in Iceland was spent exploring Reykjavík properly. We wandered the downtown area, stopped in various shops (Diya acquired another stuffed puffin because apparently one wasn't enough), and had a long lunch at a café where the staff didn't mind that our table was covered in crumbs and crayons.

But the real mission was getting to the airport to drop our bags for the next day's flight. Keflavík offers early bag drop 12-24 hours before departure, and after hearing horror stories about summer morning airport chaos, we decided to use it. Drove out, dropped the bags, drove back. It added 90 minutes to our day but gave us peace of mind.

Our final dinner was at a cozy restaurant in the old harbor area. We toasted our Iceland adventure with local beer (and apple juice for Diya), watching the boats in the harbor as the evening light stretched impossibly long - nearly 11 PM and still bright enough to read.

Day 15 was anticlimactic in the best way. We'd already checked our bags, so we just had to show up at the airport with carry-ons. The flight back to Stockholm felt surreal - had we really just driven the entire Ring Road? Had all those waterfalls and glaciers and puffins actually happened?

Diya fell asleep before takeoff, clutching both stuffed puffins. My wife and I looked at each other with that particular expression of exhausted triumph that only parents understand.

Final Thoughts: Was It Worth It?

Here's what I can tell you: traveling Iceland's Ring Road with a toddler is objectively harder than doing it solo or as a couple. You'll see less, move slower, make more compromises. There will be meltdowns (theirs and possibly yours). You'll spend more time locating bathrooms than you ever thought possible.

But.

We saw Iceland through Diya's eyes. Her unbridled excitement at every waterfall, her earnest conversations with puffins, her conviction that trolls lived in lava fields, her squeals when that whale surfaced - all of it added a layer of wonder we wouldn't have experienced otherwise.

The slower pace meant we actually absorbed things instead of just ticking off checkpoints. We met more locals because traveling with a kid is an instant conversation starter. We found random spots like that glacier hike at Fláajökull because we had to be flexible about timing and routes.

Would I recommend it? If you're the kind of parent who can roll with unpredictability, who doesn't need everything perfect, who can find joy in a toddler's twentieth rock collection of the day - absolutely. If you need a vacation where you actually relax, wait a few years (or go without the kids).

For us, it was exactly what we needed. Different, challenging, memorable, and proof that having kids doesn't mean your adventure days are over. They just look different now.

And honestly? Sometimes different is better.

Would we do it again? In a heartbeat. Maybe in a few years when Diya can hike longer distances and we can tackle some of those trails we skipped. Or maybe we'll just come back and do it all exactly the same way, slow pace and all.

Iceland isn't going anywhere. And neither is our sense of adventure.

Takk fyrir, Iceland. We'll be back.