Flateyri Westfjords Iceland
Iceland

A spit of sand and grass reaches out into the Önundarfjördur, and on this thin strip of land sits an entire village: Flateyri, two hundred residents, a row of painted tin-clad houses facing the mountains of Iceland's Westfjords. Expedition ships sailing up the fjord land their passengers just steps from the main street. Within a few strides, visitors find themselves right in the middle of local life — and that immediate closeness sets the tone for the whole stop.

The Village of Books

Flateyri is home to Iceland's oldest bookshop. Gamla Bókabúdin, founded in 1914 and run by the same family for four generations, still has its original counter, wooden shelves, and, in the back room, the family's former apartment turned into a museum where nothing has changed in decades. Visitors can leaf through old Icelandic books, buy secondhand editions from around the world, and quickly understand why the town calls itself the country's first "book town": several houses sell used volumes, carrying on a tradition born of long winter evenings.

In that same spirit of joyful accumulation, the Nonsense Museum lives fully up to its name: police caps from around the world, matchboxes, model kits, wrapped sugar cubes, and other improbable collections are piled up with a very Icelandic sense of humour. Visitors leave with a lasting smile.

Living Beneath the Barrier

Above the rooftops, a wall of earth and stone cuts across the mountainside. This wedge-shaped avalanche barrier has protected the homes below since the late 1990s: in October 1995, an avalanche originating from Skollahvilft struck Flateyri and claimed twenty lives, a tragedy that left its mark on all of Iceland. In January 2020, two new avalanches came down the slope and were largely diverted by the barrier — painful but concrete proof of its value. A trail climbs to the top of the structure; from up there, the view takes in the fjord, the sandy spit, and the peaks, giving a real sense of what it means to live, year after year, in a country as powerful as it is fragile.

A Fjord of Quiet Waters

The Önundarfjördur unfolds a quiet kind of beauty: slopes streaked with waterfalls, hayfields, and a pale sand beach where the tide traces ever-changing patterns. Near the shore, a photogenic wooden pier reaches out into the shallow water — on calm days, the boldest visitors might even consider a swim, though the water rarely rises above ten degrees. Shorebirds patrol the sand, seals occasionally poke their round heads up between dives, and the silence is broken only by the surf.

Flavours and Encounters

A café and small seasonal eatery can be found in the village, often set up in historic houses. The fish comes straight from the nearby dock; homemade fish soup, served with warm bread, makes the perfect comfort food after the climb up to the ridge. Conversation comes easily: residents of the Westfjords are used to isolated winters and greet summer visitors with genuine curiosity.

Good to Know

  • The whole village can be explored on foot in under an hour.
  • The ridge trail calls for sturdy shoes; it's short but rocky underfoot.
  • The bookshop and museums keep variable hours; scheduled stops are generally honoured.
  • No ATM on site: bring a payment card, accepted everywhere.

Flateyri fits into just a few streets, but the stop carries more weight than its size suggests. A century-old bookshop counter, a barrier that tells of a community's quiet courage, a fjord of absolute clarity: that's what stays with you. The Westfjords rarely reveal themselves all at once — but this village gives itself entirely, and it isn't easily forgotten.

Frequently Asked Questions

A few steps from the main street. Expedition ships sail up Önundarfjördur and put passengers ashore at the edge of the village, built on a spit of sand and grass reaching into the fjord. A few strides and you are in the middle of local life.
Under an hour to walk the whole village. Two hundred residents, a row of painted sheet-metal houses facing the Westfjords mountains: Flateyri fits into a few streets, yet the call counts for more than its size.
Gamla Bókabúðin, the oldest bookshop in Iceland, founded in 1914 and run by the same family for four generations. It keeps its original counter, its wooden shelves and, at the back, the family apartment turned into a museum where nothing has moved in decades.
Because several houses in the village sell second-hand volumes, continuing a tradition born of long winter evenings. You can leaf through old Icelandic works and find used editions from all over the world.
A museum that lives up to its name: police caps from around the world, matchboxes, models, wrapped sugar cubes and other improbable collections piled up with very Icelandic humour. You leave it smiling.
Avalanche protection. In October 1995 a slide from Skollahvilft struck Flateyri and killed twenty people. The wedge-shaped barrier, built in the late 1990s, largely deflected two further slides in 2020 — painful but concrete proof of its worth.
Yes, a path climbs to the crest of the structure. From up there the view takes in the fjord, the sand spit and the peaks. The path is short but stony, so wear proper shoes.
On calm days, yes, but only for the brave: the water in Önundarfjördur rarely rises above ten degrees. A pale sand beach and a photogenic wooden jetty reach into the shallows, where shorebirds patrol and seals sometimes surface.
Yes, a café and simple dining set in historic buildings. The fish comes from the quay next door, and the homemade fish soup with warm bread is the ideal reward after the climb to the crest. Conversation with residents starts easily.
No, none at all. Bring a payment card, which is accepted everywhere. Note too that the bookshop and museums keep variable hours, though announced ship calls are generally honoured.