On my first day in Iceland, I posted a “help” message online because the prices there absolutely shocked me — it wasn’t just a matter of cutting corners, but more like feeling you’d go broke unless you stopped eating, drinking, and doing anything fun. Of course, some readers chimed in jokingly, saying, “I went with six people sharing a rental car, and it didn’t feel that expensive.” It’s like back when I wrote about enjoying Poland’s autumn solo and someone joked, “There were so many people when I went, why didn’t you see any?” The world is full of such self-assured folks. But let’s put that aside. This article is based on my experience traveling solo as a backpacker and joining local tours. If anyone wants to argue that traveling with ten people by car is totally affordable, I won’t bother responding.
Iceland is very expensive, but surprisingly, public toilets on the streets are free, and you can find quite a few of them around.
Getting back to the main point, the cost of living in Iceland is really extremely high. Personally, I think even Norway and Denmark aren’t as pricey as Iceland. Maybe Iceland is just a “tourism-oriented country,” with tourism as its main industry — for example, around 90% of Icelandair’s passengers are tourists. Plus, it’s a small country located right in the middle of the ocean, relying heavily on imports, which might be why prices are set higher than other Nordic countries. Moreover, there are two main reasons why it’s hard to save money in Iceland: if you want to travel, either you join extremely expensive tour groups (don’t worry, there aren’t big discounts because they know you’ll have to book one anyway), or you rent a car (but fuel isn’t cheap either, and at places like glaciers, you still often have to “join a group”). It’s hard to “compare prices” between these options because even if there is a difference, it’s not huge. Don’t worry, apart from the city areas, there’s pretty much no bus or train service to other places, and even if there is, it might only run once a day or even once a week. We’ll talk more about travel routes next time.
When I flew from Lithuania — where prices are incredibly low — to Iceland, where prices are sky-high, I realized that the cost of a decent meal in Iceland could only buy me a cup of coffee. That’s when I decided to cook for myself. But after stepping into the supermarket, I found out that cooking wasn’t cheap either. For example, I wanted to make the simplest, quickest pasta with meat sauce — the kind that’s not too “sad” — and a 500g jar of meat sauce turned out to cost over a hundred Hong Kong dollars. Was it wagyu or Kobe beef sauce? Who would dare buy that? Of course, if you want to “keep it real” and save some money, it is possible. The best way? If you’re a backpacker, there’s usually plenty of leftover food left by previous guests in the “free food” section of hostels. But in this super expensive place, whenever new free food shows up, everyone almost “fights” over it. It’s definitely the most budget-friendly option, but you’ve got to mentally prepare yourself to “fight” for it. If you’re coming from elsewhere, I suggest bringing some dry food and condiments if you have space in your luggage. If you’re a backpacker, you know what I mean.
To get “real money,” set aside time to visit a bank in the city center.
Before you can “spend money,” the first thing you need to solve is the issue of “money.” Iceland is not a member of the European Union, nor does it use the euro, so you’ll need to exchange for Icelandic króna (ISK) upon arrival. Credit cards are accepted almost everywhere in Iceland — whether it’s buying a bottle of water at a convenience store like “10-11” (our equivalent of 7-11) or a postcard at a souvenir shop. But I still prefer using physical cash, so I had to find a currency exchange. There’s an exchange counter in the arrival hall of Reykjavik’s Keflavik International Airport, but it was already closed by the time I arrived before dark. Thinking of exchanging money in the city center like in other countries? Sorry, Iceland doesn’t really have “currency exchange shops.” You have to go to a bank. On the pedestrian street Austurstr...
If you're looking to buy cheaper daily necessities (though they're not exactly dirt cheap), Bónus or Krónan are your go-to options. The one on Laugavegur is almost a must-visit, while the slightly farther Krónan has a larger floor area.
The same logic applies to supermarkets. Aside from the convenience stores 10-11 mentioned earlier, there are two main supermarkets in Reykjavik: Bónus and Krónan. Supermarkets located near the edge of the city center tend to have later operating hours, such as the Krónan near the Saga Museum at the harbor. However, most tourists stay around the main street, Laugavegur, in the city center, and usually shop at the Bónus on that street, which closes extremely early—at 6:30 p.m.—and doesn’t open until 11 a.m. If you're constantly joining all-day Local
Tours, you’ll also never catch the supermarket when it’s open.
You certainly won’t find breathtaking natural scenery within Reykjavik itself, but the city does have several worthwhile attractions to explore, such as Tj
Many people I met at the hostel were constantly joining local tours, using Reykjavik as just a place to stay for a few nights. Although Reykjavik doesn’t really have many sights to see, that doesn’t mean it has nothing of interest — such as the majestic Hallgrimskirkja church, the quirky Penis
Museum (which might leave you “blushing red”), and the large lake in the city center, Tj
Hl
If you really don’t want to cook for yourself, there are still plenty of affordable options in the city center.I remember not seeing a single McDonald's in the city center. The most affordable chain fast food options were Subway or Domino’s, and if you wanted a more local-style restaurant, in AusturstrSince it's extremely popular, be prepared to wait in line for at least ten to twenty minutes. However, the hot dogs are not particularly large, so they might not be enough for a full meal.
Although it was a room for sixteen people, the space was quite large, and there was a wall in the middle separating the area, so it wasn’t too chaotic
After meeting the need for "food," after playing all day, you also need to rest well.The cheapest hostel room costs about 200 Hong Kong dollars per night, which seems similar to other European countries, but here, a “one hundred to two hundred” room is actually shared by 16 or even 24 people.Most hostels don’t even include blankets—you have to pay an extra around 60 Hong Kong dollars for a set of bedding.If you want to save even more, check whether the hostel provides sleeping bags or if you need to bring your own.For this trip, I stayed at two hostels: KEX Hostel and Hlemmur Square (the cheapest and highly rated bus hostel online is a bit far from the city center).When traveling, affordability is important, but comfort matters too, so I’m okay with staying in an 8-person room.In Iceland, even an 8-person dorm room is really expensive. I stayed in a 16-person room, but luckily it wasn’t as bad as the “dog kennels” in Sydney or Perth, Australia—the room was quite spacious, with walls separating the 16-person dorm into two sections, almost like two 8-person rooms, unlike those “prison camps” in Australia.
Most people come here for travel, follow regular schedules, and have housekeeping clean the rooms regularly, so the environment is not as bad as imagined. Even a "Party Hostel" can offer a good sleep, and the accommodation is actually quite decent.Perhaps everyone just stays here for a few days, and there aren’t those quirky people who stay long-term at hostels, so the “people” aspect is somewhat more “normal.”In fact, because there were more guests staying in the room, we could exchange information about different tours with each other. For me, who had been constantly “booking hostels” in the three Baltic countries, these few days were quite lively.
The biggest problem, however, turned out to be the kitchen.Since Iceland is incredibly expensive, almost every hostel guest cooks their own meals, making the tiny kitchen a chaotic mess. Utensils are often taken to rooms, and even cooking tools go missing. I wanted to cook some pasta but couldn't find a single frying pan. The strangest part was when all the forks disappeared one night—how was I supposed to eat spaghetti? Of course, I had to tap into my backpacker instincts and figure it out myself.
There's also an interesting story about the kitchen.Speaking of dinner in the kitchen, a few British roommates invited me to have dinner and drinks with them. I said it was expensive and I was tired, and they looked at me with a “Weird Asian” gaze, thinking I simply didn’t understand drinking, so they declined and left.An hour later, they came back awkwardly holding a loaf of bread and shouted at me: "Shit!"It’s even more expensive than England!” I said calmly, “Told you.” The most awkward part was that they went out too late, and even Bónus was closed, so they had to settle for “expensive bread” at 10-11, just a plain white bread with jam, and...
Next time, we’ll talk about the highlights of the trip: the Tours.
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