A few blocks down the road, on Skólavörðustígur, is the city’s best shopping area with a number of trendy stores and boutiques. My favourite was 12 Tónar, a tiny music shop painted yellow and blue. Inside, the shelves are stacked with CDs of music by local artists.
I picked a handful, settled down in an armchair in the cosy back room and listened to them while sipping the free coffee.
More of Reykjavik was revealed during a guided cycling tour led by Stefan. “Biking is a great way to see the city,” he said as we pedalled away from the harbour. We passed the Harpa opera house against its backdrop of the snowy mountain peaks across Faxaflói Bay. Dominating the impressive scene is Mount Esja, which rises to a height of 914m.
Delving into the city’s quiet backstreets lined with houses of corrugated iron painted in bright shades of red, blue and yellow, Stefan led us across a leafy square towards the understated parliament building. It’s possible to wander up to the front door and pop inside and such accessibility is not unusual in Iceland. This, after all, is the place where the prime minister is listed in the phone book.
From there we cycled around Lake Tjörnin, pausing outside pop star Björk’s large detached house, and popping into the National Museum of Iceland to look at its exhibition on the country’s history and heritage.
More culture awaited at the Reykjavik Art Museum, which houses works by acclaimed local postmodern artist Erró.
When it comes to discoveries of the culinary variety, Reykjavik has delicacies to please all palettes. Adventurous diners will enjoy the menu at 3 Frakkar, a quaint, family-run restaurant tucked away at the end of a quiet street. Inside, among the wobbly wooden tables locals were devouring rustic recipes such as grilled horse, reindeer steak and even the emblematic puffin. Björk often pops in. She apparently loves hashed fish with black bread.
Elsewhere, you can sample Icelandic-style tapas at Tapas Barinn by the harbour filled with fishing trawlers, sailing boats and wharf buildings, one of which is home to Saegreifinn, renowned for its tasty lobster soup.
Arguably the best snack, however, is a hot dog from the harbourside Baejarins Beztu Pylsur stand. A combination of beef, pork and lamb served with fried onions and a sweet local mustard, it has won an army of fans, including former US president Bill Clinton.
Hot dogs aside, no visit to Reykjavik would be complete without a dip in the Blue Lagoon, 50km away. Its milky waters, naturally heated to 38°C, are surrounded by angry looking fields of blackened lava that creates an eerie but strangely romantic spectacle. I swiftly slipped into the deliciously warm waters as my head and shoulders continued to tingle in the early evening chill.
As night fell, couples canoodled amid the plumes of rising steam. Some sipped drinks from the swim-up bar while others slathered the silica mud mask onto their faces in hopes of a youthful glow. I merely floated happily, staring up at the dark sky, contemplating my whirlwind few days in this special city and secretly hoping for a farewell glimpse of the Northern Lights.