A Merry “Litli” Christmas Eve: Iceland, November 2025

Back in November of 2024 I visited Iceland and one of my planned stops was the town of Geysir, home to a whole slew of the phenomena we know as geysers. To call it a “town” would actually be an exaggeration; other than the field of geysers themselves, there is only a Visitor’s Center that attracts dozens of buses coming up from Reykjavik on a day trip, and two hotels, the mammoth Hotel Geysir and its neighbor, Litli Geysir. The difference in price between the two is considerable, with the big hotel being more than double the price of its smaller neighbor. When I learned that those staying at Litli Geysir are sent to the big hotel for the complimentary breakfast, I decided to save my money and stay at the smaller property.

When I arrived in the darkness of 5:00 PM – Iceland’s sunset is a bit after 4:00 this time of year – I found a dark, empty building with a sign on the door saying that check-in should be done at the big hotel. I drove over there and was simply stunned as I entered the most beautiful and tastefully-decorated lobby area I have ever seen. Soft, instrumental versions of Christmas music were playing, inviting couches and chairs were plentiful, and mammoth Christmas trees covered in white lights adorned the space.

“Oh man, I wish I could have afforded to stay here!” I thought.

Well, the woman at the front desk informed me that I had been “upgraded” and would be staying at the big hotel after all. Wow! I was overjoyed and I had a wonderful two-night stay in this beautiful place, which features a breakfast buffet so expansive that it might take you longer to explore all the available options than it does to drive Iceland’s famous 820-mile- long Ring Road!

This year as I planned another few days’ stopover in Iceland as part of a longer European trip, I checked prices at the Hotel Geysir; they were close to $300 a night. As much as I would have loved to re-live last year’s experience, $300 would buy a lot of smoked salmon and lamb stew dinners, and a couple of tanks of fuel for the gas-guzzling little SUV I rented. So, reluctantly, I booked at Litli Geysir for closer to $100 and comforted myself with the thought that at least I’d have a great breakfast over at the big hotel in the morning. Deep down, I hoped that maybe by some strange stroke of luck I would get an upgrade again to the big hotel, as this trip was happening exactly the same week that I was in Iceland last year. However, I figured that lightning probably doesn’t strike twice and that I could “rough it” at the smaller hotel for a night.

With a very strong sense of déjà vu, I pulled up to a dark and deserted Litli Geysir and found a note on the door instructing me to check in at the big hotel. As I entered the gorgeous lobby I remembered so fondly, a friendly desk clerk greeted me warmly and after looking up my reservation, told me I was being upgraded to the big hotel for the night. I was almost giddy and shared with her that this had happened last year and that I’d been praying that it might happen again.

 “Well, the prayer worked!” she said with a laugh and handed me my room key.

While the room itself was cozy and plush, I was drawn to the lobby’s ambiance. I went down and sat on one of the couches, listening to the soothing Christmas music in what seemed to be a virtually empty hotel. After awhile, I started exploring other smaller, cozy public areas on the floors above and below the main lobby. Suddenly, the elevator doors popped open and a boisterous group poured out and stopped beside me to peer over the balcony onto the lobby below. I casually offered, “Isn’t this hotel beautiful?” and that initiated a long conversation with this family of locals from Reykjavik who were staying at the hotel to celebrate the grandmother’s birthday. They were on their way to the bar for a drink, and the father of the family urged me to join them. So off we went to the stylishly decorated bar area, which we had all to ourselves.

My friendly host treated me to a beer and introduced me to his wife, daughter and son-in-law, and his mother, who was celebrating her birthday. I unfortunately didn’t get all their names, but even if they’d told me I would likely have been unable to say or spell them. My host said his name was Andri Gunnarson, then added that his middle name was Thor, the Norse god of thunder.  He said “Andri” means “masculine and virile” and that Gunnarson means “the son of a Gunnar or warrior”. Andri Thor Gunnarson. I looked over at his mother and exclaimed, “That was a pretty heavy name to put on a little baby!” and she nodded and laughed uproariously.

Conversation drifted to the topic of Icelandic place names, and I recounted my problems in saying or pronouncing 95% of the names of places I’d visited in their country. In fact, Andri pronounced a couple of popular towns and from their spelling, I would have never guessed that they sounded like they do. I learned that although I was pronouncing “Litli Geysir” like “Lit-Lee”, it is in fact pronounced close enough to the English word “little” to make me feel quite silly.  Sigh. On my first visit to Iceland years ago, I simply transformed complicated Icelandic names into more easy, sound-alike English words or phrases. Hverageroi I named “Hurdy-Gurdy” and the Ingolfshefoi peninsula became “In Golf Shoes.” Andri reassured me that this is common and said he’d heard people use “Hurdy-Gurdy” quite often, so perhaps I started a trend!

I commented about how fantastically fresh and hearty Icelandic cuisine is and shared that people always seem somewhat surprised when I talk about how good the food is here. Andri lamented how the media have sensationalized certain “traditional” Icelandic foods like hákarl (fermented shark) and surhvalur (whale blubber cured in sour milk).

“People think that typical Icelandic families dine on such things!” After a long pause, he continued, “I sometimes wonder what accomplishments my Viking ancestors might have made if they hadn’t been feasting on whale and fermented shark!”

We talked a lot about travel and shared some of our favorite destinations in the world. Andri’s wife talked about how important travel is to Icelanders and explained that there is a term in Icelandic, I believe it was heimskur, used to describe someone who never travels and prefers to remain at home. She said it’s a somewhat derogatory term, implying that someone is unsophisticated, foolish, or backward if they refrain from travel. We had trouble coming up with an English language equivalent, but I thought it sounded a bit like calling someone “provincial.”

Andri’s daughter and son-in-law were recent newlyweds, and talked a bit about their wedding, which had been held at the oldest wooden church in Iceland, Grafarkirkja. The son-in-law pulled up a photo from Google and I gasped at what an unbelievably location that must have been for a wedding. It’s located in far northern Iceland and I would have loved to have been a guest at that party.

As the night wore on, we sometimes all just sat quietly, enjoying the hotel’s soothing Christmas music. At one point, I shared that I’d heard a version of Santa Claus is Coming to Town being sung in Icelandic on the radio, and Andri’s wife explained that Iceland itself doesn’t have many original Christmas songs, but they have a persistent habit of taking popular songs from other countries and turning them into Christmas songs. In particular, she said that Iceland has adopted many popular Italian songs and converted them into Christmas music, and Andri’s son-in-law promptly pulled one of them up on his phone. I’d have sworn that I was listening to a song from Radio Italia, my favorite station in Italy, except for the fact that the lyrics were in Icelandic. She also said that the popular Dolly Parton & Kenny Rogers duet, Islands in the Stream had become an Icelandic Christmas classic. Again, the son-in-law found it on his phone and played it for me, while Andri explained that the Icelandic lyrics to the song were all about preparing Christmas dinner!  Too funny!

I asked the group how they typically celebrate Christmas, and Andri’s wife explained that Christmas Eve is the most special and spiritual part of the holiday for them, a sentiment that I share. I was interested to hear her descriptions of that special night. She said that at 6:00 PM on Christmas Eve, virtually everything in Reykjavik comes to a complete stop. There is no traffic, no businesses are open, and a beautiful peace settles over the city. The quiet is then replaced by the sound of bells ringing out from every church within 20 miles or so. She said she would always bring her children outside at this time of the evening to experience the beautiful calm and the music of the bells. This, she said, was when she always felt the true spirit of the holiday. I shared that I long for that sort of experience on Christmas Eve – no TV sets on, no football games, no commercialism… just taking a moment to enjoy the magic that Christmas Eve always had for me as a child. Interestingly, she shared that as Iceland has become such a popular tourist destination, more and more people are coming there to experience Christmas. An unforeseen consequence of this is that families are now unable to be together for the holiday because some members have to work in hotels and restaurants to support the tourist industry.

She also mentioned that typically, all the gifts are all opened on Christmas Eve and that sometimes she feels that all that excitement takes away from the deeper meaning of the holiday. I shared that when I was a child, we typically got to open just one gift on Christmas Eve and saved the rest for Christmas morning, and this idea seemed to be very well-received by the entire family, so perhaps I’ve planted the seed to start a new tradition for Icelandic Christmas.

Eventually Andri checked his watch; it was almost midnight and we’d spent a couple of hours together, but it was time to call it a night. The warm, congenial conversation, the lovely background music of the hotel’s Christmas playlist, and perhaps a bit of a buzz from the giant beer Andri had ordered for me combined to make it feel like I’d just experienced one of the most special Christmas Eves I have ever had, despite the reality that this was only November 16. I joked that I felt like I’d been starring in a Hallmark Channel Christmas movie, unsure whether they’d understand the reference, but Andri quickly said, “I like those films! I always feel good when I watch them, even though they probably don’t deserve an Academy Award!”  I quipped that a lot of the Oscar winners don’t really deserve the award either. but was delighted to hear that my new friend shared my guilty pleasure.

Perhaps I should write a screenplay for a new Hallmark Christmas film, but what to call it? A Very Icelandic Christmas?  A Hurdy-Gurdy Christmas? Have Yourself a Merry LITLI Christmas? I’ll work on it. At any rate, this was the most wonderful welcome to Iceland I could have possibly wished for.  I’m grateful that no one will ever be able to use the word heimskur to describe me;  experiences like this continue to reinforce my passion for travel and the adventures it provides.

And though it’s still a bit early, here’s wishing all of you a Merry Litli Christmas, a Happy Hanukkah, and only the best for the new year.