From the outside, it may seem like the Northern Lights dance across the Icelandic sky every night. The Icelandair ad features a plane flying above a shimmering curtain in the sky. On social media, travelers stare at the green band above their heads. Some recycling bins in the capital, Reykjavík, are also lit with lights that say “Keep Iceland Clean.''
Over the past decade or so, Iceland has seen a boom in the Aurora Industrial Park. Many people rent a car and head out on their own, but there are also Aurora Big Bus Tours, Aurora Minibus Tours, and Aurora Super Jeep Tours. Private guides and boat cruises are also available. There is an observation deck base camp. There is also a museum.
But the lights can be confusing.
“Tourists sometimes have expectations like, 'What time are you going to turn on the lights?'” Björn Sévar Einarsson, a forecaster at the Icelandic Meteorological Office, said with a laugh. “I think there's a switch in the back room.”
This year has been particularly disappointing.
The Northern Lights, also known as the Northern Lights, are most visible when solar flares occur. A solar flare is a massive explosion of the sun that sends charged particles toward Earth. This year, the sun is nearing the peak of its 11-year cycle of activity, which some believe means display activity could also peak.
But increased solar activity doesn't necessarily mean auroras will become brighter or more frequent, scientists wearily explain. Instead, they primarily mean that the light will be visible further south than usual. arizonaMissouri and southern England.
That doesn't make much sense for Iceland.
In fact, Icelanders and scientists say this winter is nothing special. Sometimes the light is there. Sometimes it's not. As usual.
hunt the light
But when it comes to the Northern Lights, there's nothing special about them. And tourists keep coming.
Last month, I joined this fight. For four nights, I searched for telltale sky glows in and around Reykjavík.
I jumped on board and booked my ticket – this year has been the best year ever, hasn't it? But as I learned more and the flight got closer, my hopes waned. The scientists and tour leaders kindly informed us that the sky was cloudy and solar activity seemed to be quiet.
“I just wanted to let you know that the weather forecast doesn't look very good,” says Inga Dis Richter, chief commercial officer of tourism agency Icelandia.I will be taking a minibus trip with Reykjavik Excursions. I wrote in an email two days ago. The tour operator.
“But this could change,” she added.
To find the light, guides and travelers often rely on aurora forecasts, which are a combination of cloud cover and solar activity. They're constantly checking, like brides who are getting married outdoors in mid-April.
Some forecasts are free, such as the Northern Lights forecast run by the Icelandic Meteorological Office and Iceland at Night, which includes space weather. (Some people don't; Aurora Forecast, which costs $12.99 a year, sends alerts.) Many people also turn to Facebook pages, where enthusiasts eagerly exchange sightings.
However, luck is everything.
“There's one thing about aurora borealis that is difficult to predict, and that's the arctic weather,” says John Mason, a world expert on aurora borealis. “Aurora forecasts are barely worth the paper they're written on.”
The guides are passionate about explaining the science and communicating expectations. Most companies offer a free rebooking option if the lights don't show up.
On my first night of aurora stalking, despite Mr. Richter's warnings, I joined a group of expectant mothers in a Reykjavik Excursions minibus. For $88, I was able to sit on his 19-passenger bus, which departed from the city's central bus station at 9:30 p.m.
For the next 3-4 hours we drove through the Icelandic night together. I could either join these strangers in seeing something amazing, a sky streaked with light, or shivering awkwardly in the cold shoulder-to-shoulder with them.
As we hit the road, our guide Gudjon Gunnarsson set the tone early. “We go hunting for light,” he said, emphasizing the word “hunting,” adding, “It's like going fishing in a lake.”
He drove for about 45 minutes and waited as the glow of Reykjavik faded behind us. The city has a population of around 140,000 people and has virtually no skyscrapers, so light pollution is limited. Although the Northern Lights can sometimes appear above the city, it's best to see them in complete darkness.
Then he stopped and consulted another guide.
“It’s too cloudy here,” he told the crowd. “So we keep driving.”
But as I continued driving, the clouds turned into a thick fog, and I could barely see the moon.
About an hour after we left Reykjavík, Mr. Gunnarsson stopped the main road. He parked his car in the parking lot. Or was it a side street? The darkness was so deep that it wasn't until my eyes adjusted that I could make out the moonlight on the ocean.
We disembarked, dutifully stood next to him, and looked up at the sky. Then a woman pointed towards Reykjavik. Was that a light? (No, it was light pollution.)
Christoph Reinhardt, 65, who runs a medical laser company and was visiting from Paris with his family, thought our search was a bit like a safari. Deserts are great, but lions are even better. Or was this more like Whale Watch?
“Instead of a boat, we have a bus,” he said.
Gunnarsson watched as the group stomped their feet and hunched into the wind. 15 minutes. Then, 30 minutes. There were thick clouds in the sky. “As you can see, there's nothing going on here,” he finally said, letting out a laugh. “That's the night you just have to give up.”
Gunnarsson and other guides say tourists can get angry. It's rare, but it does happen.
“This trip is the worst rated trip,” said Eric Larimer, digital marketing manager for Gray Line Iceland, a day tour and airport transfer company.
Aurora's wake-up call
Some people find joy in searching, even if they can't find it. Some focus on astronomy and choose to stay at Hotel Langa, located just off the main ring road (Route 1) near Iceland's southern coast.
Although the hotel is low-slung, wooden and unassuming, it is one of the most famous hotels in Iceland. (The Kardashians have stayed there, as have The Real Housewives of Orange County.) Standard rooms cost upwards of $300, depending on the season.
But Ranga doesn't just target celebrities. It also attracts astronomy enthusiasts, who are drawn to the “Aurora Wake Up'' service and observatories with state-of-the-art telescopes.
“One is to sell it,” hotel owner Fridrik Persson said of Aurora. “The other thing is to deliver them.”
About 20 years ago, before the aurora industry took off, he delegated night watchmen to watch the skies. Guards pop their heads out every few minutes to look for any glimmer of evidence. When he spots a light, he alerts the guests.
This service aims to address one of the major issues regarding Northern Lights hunting. This means that the Northern Lights are usually only visible on very cold, windy, and very late winter nights.
“To be a good aurora observer, you need to have the constitution of an insomniac polar bear,” Dr. Mason says.
Unfortunately the phone in the room remained silent. But I dreamed of light. Strangely enough, behind the Chrysler Building, there were some amazing Wonka colors swirling around.
Mr. Pearlson also built an observatory. He thought that even if the lights did not appear, the stars would still be wonderful, and also unusual for people living in cities. Hotels contract astronomers to operate telescopes and explain the stars to guests. On his second night in Iceland, as dusk fell under the happy hour sky, I tramped through the snow with Icelandic science communicator and research leader Sárvár Helgi and Bragason. I headed to the observatory. astronomy program.
He bent his infant-sized telescope to focus on the moon's craters. It looked clearer than the hotel a short walk away. It's too early for the lights to come on, he said. And that night seemed too cloudy (on Earth) and too quiet (on the Sun).
Bragason joked that the light can get in the way, adding fog to the stars you really want to see. But tourists often come specifically to see them. And if you wait impatiently, he said, you can miss the real wonder.
“We still have a beautiful sky overhead,” he said. “It basically opens up another universe, literally.”
create a season of light
Hotel Langa was a pioneer in the Northern Lights tourism industry in Iceland. About 20 years ago, people came to Iceland for the long summer days and left as the sun fell further south.
“At first I thought it was pretty stupid,” Langa's owner Palsson admitted, referring to Aurora tourism.
However, it makes sense to spread tourism throughout the year. In part, it was environmental concerns. Tourists will flock to the country's stunning natural locations in just a few months. It was also economical. As tourists leave Iceland, tourism jobs will fade with the light of day.
The Northern Lights, which are reliably visible from September to March, have therefore become the backbone of the country's winter branding, says Svein Birkir Bjornsson, director of marketing and communications at Business Iceland, which promotes the country.
“We have to offer something to be able to sell this cold and dark product,” he said.
Tourist arrivals are now evened out across the seasons, although June, July and August are the busiest months. According to data from the Icelandic Tourism Board, approximately 1.1 million international tourists visited Iceland during the 2023 Northern Lights season, based on departures from Keflavik Airport. From April to August, there were about 1.1 million people.
About 10 years ago, when overall tourism to Iceland was down, there were about 336,000 departures from major airports in the cold season and 446,000 in the spring and summer.
Winter travelers are drawn to the light and the hot springs, glaciers, and ice waterfalls. Prices are also lower than in summer.
Although some people try to visit the volcano, Iceland recently warned tourists to avoid lava flows. Iceland is experiencing a period of unusually high seismic activity. In January, lava flowed into a small town, and last week a volcano erupted just 40 minutes ago near the Blue Lagoon Hot Springs, one of the country's biggest tourist attractions.
last attempt
Near midnight on my last Sunday night, I drove to Grotta Lighthouse, a popular spot on the outskirts of Reykjavík.
Several enthusiastic experts had warned me. Many tourists visit there because it's darker than other parts of Reykjavík, but they still don't think to turn off their headlights. It was also raining, so the chances of seeing the light were greatly reduced.
But we only had three hours left to catch our pre-dawn flight. I felt a little hopeless and a little dazed. I parked the car and approached them, who were sitting in the rain on a wet wall, looking out at the water in the dark. I got over the seaweed and introduced myself. What does it mean for them if a light suddenly appears? I asked.
“I guess it's like a little extra,” said Katherine Norburn, 29, who was visiting from the UK.
She and her husband were scheduled to fly out the next morning. They had not yet seen the light.
Her husband, Reece Norburn, 29, said, “I don't have high expectations.'' “But it's now or never.”
I couldn't see any light. And later, after getting off the highway halfway between Reykjavík and the airport at 3:30 a.m., I couldn't see them, half-assured by shimmering clouds.
However, I have been spending more time looking up at the sky. And that's amazing.
In New York City, where I live, orange-mauve flowers bloom in the night sky. In Iceland, darkness is just that – darkness. Clouds roll in, breaking the deep blue. The stars are actually shining. With or without the aurora, it was still cosmically beautiful.