My Knitting Adventure in Iceland

On my second day in the enchanting landscapes of Iceland, I found myself in a cozy hotel on the fringes of Reykjavik, determined to master the art of knitting. Seated around a rustic coffee table were my knowledgeable instructor, Ragga Sjofu Jóhannsdóttir, and my good friend Lindis Sloan, both of whom were seasoned knitters effortlessly maneuvering their yarn with only fleeting glances at their hands.

And then there was me, tightly gripping my knitting needles, wrestling with the challenge of maintaining the right tension necessary to transform two skeins of local Icelandic wool into what I envisioned as a stylish headband. My progress felt painfully slow, but after a couple of hours of struggle, a vibrant red ring of textile adorned with pink diamond patterns began to take shape.

Just as I was starting to feel a sense of accomplishment, Ragga noticed a mistake I had made in a previous row. With a cheerful laugh, she took the needles from my hands and began to unravel my painstakingly crafted stitches. “If you can’t unravel,” she exclaimed, her eyes twinkling with mischief, “you can’t truly knit!”

My initial plan was to embark on a journey from Reykjavik to Blönduós, where one of Iceland’s few wool-washing facilities and its only textile museum are located. From there, I intended to venture inland and then make my way southward, exploring the quaint wool-related cottage industries that dot the landscape.

This approach to spending a vacation in Iceland might seem unconventional. While many travelers flock to the island for rejuvenating dips in the milky blue waters of the Blue Lagoon or embark on nighttime excursions to witness the breathtaking northern lights, I was drawn to the country’s rich crafting heritage. With a climate that nurtures cozy sweaters and a sheep population that outnumbers humans by about tenfold, knitting tourism is steadily gaining popularity among those eager to immerse themselves in Icelandic culture.