Why do people want to see Grindavík? Gunnar Schram, the police chief for Suðurnes, the region of Iceland’s Reykjanes peninsula that has erupted six times since last December, laughs at the question.
The allure of getting close to an active volcano is so strong that even the person tasked with ensuring people behave around the eruption site at Grindavík, which opened up to the public on Monday for the first time since the town started cracking open on 10 November last year, cannot deny its majesty.
“Many tourists that come to Iceland have never even seen lava up close,” he says, incredulous.
Although the most dangerous parts are cordoned off, visiting Grindavík is still only possible at travellers’ own risk, and children are advised not to go. The ground is still emitting steam and just one metre down the rock is as hot as 800C. Scientists are closely monitoring the situation, and another eruption is expected in the next month or two.
“If it wasn’t for the barriers around Grindavík, most of the town would be under lava today. It’s not hard to see that people have interest in that,” says Schram.
Even Icelanders, who are used to witnessing the power of nature up close, are changed by close encounters with volcanos. “But for tourists,” he adds, “coming to Iceland and seeing those things in Grindavík up close, that must be something.”
And yet tourists have not exactly rushed to visit what is now a ghost town, after nature forced a thriving, close-knit, multigenerational community of 3,800 to disperse. So far, they have had about 50 visitors a day.
Of course, part of the attraction of Iceland is its status as a volcanic hotspot. In August, I saw the volcano from the air and, despite the destruction it had caused, the sight of the red glow, even from afar, was magnetic.
But compared with previous eruptions – such as that of the Fagradalsfjall volcano near Grindavík in 2021, a so-called “tourist eruption” which went on for six months but did not pose any threat to life – the events of the last year have been far more serious in terms of human impact and have even proved fatal. Lúðvík Pétursson, 50, went missing while filling cracks in the ground in January. The search for him was called off after several days.
When the Observer went to Grindavík in February, visitors were required to have special QR codes that were scanned at a checkpoint to enter. Around the town the only other vehicles were police cars and moving vans, while many of the remaining residents were packing up their livelihoods. There were fences cordoning off unstable buildings, deep cracks in the ground, and in many of the house windows handwritten signs said Farin (gone). People were advised to wear face masks to protect them from the overwhelming stench of sulphur dioxide. But now that is no longer required.
Today, some residents and businesses remain, including fisheries, but with 90% of properties bought up by the government and the likelihood of more eruptions, the future is a huge uncertainty.
Grindavík Guesthouse is among the small number of businesses that has decided to reopen, even though its owners have been forced to move out of the town themselves. In the last year, the owners, who have four children, have moved six times. They are promoting the nearby lava fields “for an up-close experience of the raw Icelandic landscape.” So far they have had some tourists who have come to see the empty town, some who were passing through and others who were going to the Blue Lagoon, the nearby geothermal spa.
The local tourism board says it has seen a steady flow of tourists and locals visiting the town since the reopening, but it has been difficult to develop volcano tourism as an attraction due to the uncertainty of the eruptions. A Grindavík-based tour operator is offering guided tours through the town highlighting the changes before and after evacuation, and more are expected to start up in the future.
Although there was an effect on tourist numbers initially, which the tourism board in part blames on international media reporting of the eruptions, numbers have picked up to slightly higher than previous levels so far this year. Between January and September 2024, more than 1.7 million people visited Iceland.
The new Icelandic president, Halla Tómasdóttir, was keen to emphasise to the Observer in August that the country was open as usual and completely safe for tourism.
But, the Icelandic tourist board warns, anybody who defies official advice to go off-piste in their explorations cannot expect to be rescued.
The board’s safety specialist, Dagbjartur Brynjarsson, says for some disaster tourists, the draw of social media attention has proved too compelling. “We have some people, mostly foreigners, running across fresh lava, so to speak, and going very close to the crater. If something happens, no one will come and get you.”
