10 Days in Iceland: Waterfalls, Black Sand, & Glaciers in May

There’s nowhere quite like Iceland. It’s a place that feels otherworldly—like the landscape is still being formed while you’re standing on it. In May, the country is thawing out of winter, waterfalls are roaring, and the roads are just open enough to take you deep into the island’s wild, cinematic beauty—without the crowds.

My husband and I spent 10 days exploring the southern coast of Iceland, starting and ending in Reykjavík, with stops in Hella, Vík, Skaftafell, and Jökulsárlón. Armed with layers, waterproof boots, and my Oregami luggage and packing system, I stood under waterfalls, watched glaciers float in and out, soaked in hot springs, and drove roads that seemed to lead on forever.

Here’s how it all went down.

Days 1–3: Reykjavík & Surroundings

We landed in Reykjavík to gray skies and crisp air—basically the Icelandic welcome mat. The city itself is walkable and creative, full of street art, warm cafes, and ultra-clean Scandinavian design. Like the Hallgrimskirkja Cathedral, which we quickly visited before dinner. The town has a surprising amount of modern cuisine selections, from seafood to upscale Indian, and more.

Our first stop the following day: the Blue Lagoon. Touristy? Absolutely. Worth it? Yes. Floating in pale blue, mineral-rich water surrounded by lava rock is the best cure for jet lag. And sulfur face masks? Bonus.

We also made the drive out to Búðakirkja, the iconic black church sitting alone on a lava field. The silence there was something I didn’t expect. And it’s lonelness is stricking, just like nearly everything else in Iceland. While out that direction, we figured we’d continue on to Mount Kirkjufell, or ‘church mountain’, the Icelandic mountain made famous by Game of Thrones of course. Our time in Reykjavík was short, but it was the perfect soft landing before heading into the more rugged parts of the trip.

Days 4–5: Hella & the Waterfall Route

After picking up our rental car, we drove east to Odin, near Hella, where we stayed in the serene Panorama Glass Lodge that felt tucked away from time. The lodge itself is beautiful and true to it’s name, with 360 degree views of the Iceland sky and a river running through the landscape.

This region of the South Coast is all about waterfalls—one after another, each with its own personality so on our way to the lodge we stopped by a few followed by hot springs to warm us up.

Seljalandsfoss: You can walk behind it, which sounds romantic until you’re soaked in freezing mist. So a weather proof jacket is highly recommended. Still magical, though.

Skógafoss: Taller, louder, and almost intimidating. If you catch it on a sunny day, you’ll see rainbows arching across the spray. We took the tall stairs to the top for a beautiful view and quick workout. And an unexpected May bonus we didn’t know we’d be lucky enough to catch is lambing season when Icelandic sheep give birth. I mention this because there’s a farm just bordering the waterfall hosting newly born sheep napping in the sun and playing together eagerly.

Seljavallalaug Hot Springs: An old pool in the middle of nowhere. Getting there required a short hike over rocks and streams, but soaking in warm water with mountains all around? A surreal experience.

This part of Iceland made me feel small in the best possible way—like nature was in charge, and I was just lucky to be visiting.

Day 6: Vík and the Black Sand Coast

Vík was a quick stop, but one of the most visually dramatic. We visited Reynisfjara, the famous black sand beach, where the Atlantic crashes into basalt cliffs with serious power. The waves are no joke—beautiful but dangerous.

Then we headed to Dyrhólaey, a massive arch of rock jutting into the sea. Standing at the edge, watching birds circle below and the wind whip over the cliffs, I felt like I was on another planet. Not to mention, I don’t think we saw another person or vehicle all day.

If you go in May, you might even catch puffins nesting.

Days 7–8: Skaftafell & Svartifoss

By the time we reached Skaftafell, we were deep into Vatnajökull National Park. It’s quieter out here, with fewer tourists and a slower pace. We hiked to Svartifoss, a striking waterfall framed by black basalt columns that almost look man-made.

The hike itself was peaceful, with views stretching for miles—green valleys, snow-dusted peaks, and the occasional sheep and horses. This was our reset button after several packed days.

Day 9: Jökulsárlón Glacier Lagoon & Diamond Beach

If Iceland has a surreal high point, this was it. We stood at the edge of Jökulsárlón, watching massive chunks of glacier float by like ghosts. The water is this deep, icy blue that seems to glow from within. A few seals popped up to say hi, and the quiet was almost sacred.

Just across the road is Diamond Beach, where those glacier pieces wash ashore onto black sand. Some are small enough to hold, others the size of a dog. The contrast is otherworldly—shimmering ice on dark volcanic sand. It’s the kind of sight that doesn’t look real, even when you're standing in it.

Day 10: Back to Reykjavík

The drive back was long, but peaceful. After days of dramatic scenery, even the mossy plains and empty stretches felt poetic. We returned to Reykjavík just in time for one last dinner, drinks at a nearby bar favorited by locals, a warm shower, and a bittersweet goodbye to this wild island.

What I Packed for Iceland in May (and What I’m Glad I Did)

May in Iceland is that awkward in-between season—technically spring, but honestly still flirting with winter. I was grateful every single day for two things: waterproof everything, and the right layers.

In terms of luggage, between my husband and I, we shared the space between the Oregami Discover Carry-On for basics and the Rolling Duffel for coats, shoes, and heavier clothing. Here’s what I packed in my Oregami packing cubes that kept me organized and ready for anything Iceland threw at me (rain, wind, snow, sun... sometimes all in one day):

Base layers (wool or synthetic): I kept all my underlayers in the small cube for quick access during changing temps.

Fleece & mid-layers: These lived in the medium cube—lightweight but warm.

Rain jacket + packable down jacket: Must-haves. I swapped between them constantly.

One small cube just for “hot springs gear”: Swimsuit, fast-dry towel, and slides. Came in handy more than once (Seljavallalaug, Blue Lagoon, hotel spas).

Sturdy boots and plenty socks: I stored shoes in the shoe bag to keep the rest of my stuff clean.

Gloves: Tiny items that made big difference—tucked into my luggage zip pocket for grab-and-go.

Pro tip: Even though it’s spring, don’t skip on winter gear. Iceland’s weather changes fast, especially by waterfalls and glaciers. Thanks to my Oregami system, I never had to unpack and repack every day—I just opened the case, pulled what I needed, and kept it moving.

Final Thoughts

Iceland is a place of extremes—ice and fire, stillness and power, silence and roar. It’s easy to feel like a traveler in a dream here, walking through myths and geology all at once.

Ten days was just enough to fall in love and realize how much more there is to see. If you're thinking about going—go. And pack smart. Iceland rewards the prepared and stuns everyone else anyway.