I went to Iceland to see the highlights, but these spots were better

There are thousands of other waterfalls, canyons, and hot springs in the country, many more beautiful than the ones in the brochure. Go seek them out.

“Look. People!” I called to my wife, Gerda, over the rush of flowing water. “We’re saved!”

I was being facetious, but in a good way. After breakfast, I’d agreed to her suggestion we climb the hill behind the campsite, and after what turned out to be a short but very, very goats-may-reconsider-their-choices-steep ascent, we followed the cliff line in search of a safer way down. It only took us 20 minutes to the top of Systrafoss (Sister Falls), where we bumped into another couple, but they were the most relaxing 20 minutes since we’d landed.

Like many Iceland virgins, we’d booked a vehicle and eagerly plotted a route following the Ring Road, the highway that encircles the island nation like a safety cordon: outside – Insta-worthy tourism highlights; inside – the other 80 per cent of the country. After collecting our little Suzuki Jimny, we took off from Reykjavik in a southeasterly direction, our hand forced by weather warnings coming out of the north. High winds and rooftop tents do not mix.

First on our itinerary the following day was Seljalandsfoss waterfall. In the treeless, open landscape of rural Iceland, the shiny knot of campervans marking the car park stood out a mile. We pulled in, found a spot, and paid our 1000 króna (about $11). Thanks to the country’s “right to roam” laws, its beautiful places cannot be hidden behind an entrance fee, so to monetise them the government has started building official, ticketed car parks. The waterfall was suitably impressive, a fact reflected in the faces of the hundreds of people with whom we shared it.

First on our itinerary the following day was Seljalandsfoss waterfall. 

Access to Vikurfjara Beach, our next stop, resembled the chaos of Nairobi’s central minibus station, but with mounted cameras to scan registration plates as they enter and exit. We baulked. It wasn’t the money, although that does start to add up; it was the feeling of being funnelled onto a conveyor belt of cooing, camera-clicking clones. We would’ve liked to view the towering basalt sea stacks cunningly hidden around the corner, but such epic beauty as Iceland purveys cannot be properly enjoyed under such circumstances. We turned around and left.

After the Twin Falls walk, we sought recommendations at the town’s turf-roofed visitor centre. According to them, we’d driven past the incomparable Fjaðrárgljúfur the previous evening, a canyon so picturesque it graces the cover of the current Lonely Planet Iceland guide. So we endured again the seething masses and the cameras, absorbing the splendour of this natural wonder while photo-bombing drones fizzed all around. Jostling for position at the lookout offering the fullest views down the canyon.

Fjaðrárgljúfur canyon is so picturesque that it graces the cover of the current Lonely Planet Iceland guide.

That afternoon we took the wrong exit from a roundabout and came across a gorgeous cascade. There was no official car park, just an old-fashioned patch of dirt. We strode purposefully up to the face of the falls and, finally free of all distractions, experienced it fully. While not as spectacular as Seljalandsfoss, the serenity made it much more enjoyable. And then we found Múlagljúfur – unsignposted, with free parking and only a handful of vehicles. A 45-minute walk later, we were looking down into one of the most beautiful canyons I’ve ever been privileged to witness. Steep, lush, serene – I could wax lyrical for pages, but the upshot is Múlagljúfur blew Fjaðrárgljúfur away. Maybe we were doing this all wrong.

After a traumatic experience at Skaftafell, touted as a natural wonderland of glaciers, hiking, and (of course) waterfalls, but in reality a maelstrom of vehicles, camera lenses and Gore-Tex, we pulled over at a rest stop. A few other vans were enjoying the late-afternoon sun, and across the river was a tremendous rippled mountain, the slanting light throwing a pattern of shadow-relief across its textured flanks. Gazing at this ecological artwork, my earlier thought finally crystallised. 

It turned out to be Iceland’s oldest remaining church, Grafarkirkja, constructed with staves and a turf roof, and dating from the late 17th century.

If Systrafoss planted the seed, Skaftafell was where it germinated. We would throw out our long-planned itinerary, ignore all those hours of poring over websites and #visiticeland hashtags, and actively eschew the “highlights”. We’d go our own way.

From that moment on, our trip improved exponentially. Jökulsárlón was a drive-by. The famous Blue Lagoon ($106) lost out to a small geothermal pool in the middle of a field (free). A 15m-high rock stack growing from a beach by the side of the road more than made up for Vikurfjara. Other highlights we had virtually to ourselves included a remote, 200m-deep desert canyon, and a curious church surrounded by a turf wall in a farmer’s paddock that Gerda spied from the road. It turned out to be Iceland’s oldest remaining church, Grafarkirkja, constructed with staves and a turf roof, and dating from the late 17th century.

Our best decision was to jettison the whole of the heavily marketed Golden Circle scenic route in favour of a stunning two-day drive around the Westfjords.

Our last and best decision was to jettison the whole of the heavily marketed Golden Circle scenic route in favour of a stunning two-day drive around the Westfjords, the many-fingered hand that waves at Greenland across the Denmark Strait. Barely 20 per cent of tourists visit this area, which seemed to vindicate our choice with the ultimate farewell – a perfect aurora borealis display on our final night.

So if you’re going to Iceland, here’s my advice: make a list of the highlights, stick it on your dashboard, then carefully avoid them. There are thousands of other waterfalls, canyons, and hot springs in the country, many even more beautiful than the ones in the brochure. Go seek them out.

Originally published as I went to Iceland to see the highlights, but these spots were better