Iceland & Norway Voyage on World Traveller (July 2025)

Over the past couple of years, we’ve had the pleasure of sending many clients aboard Atlas Ocean Voyages’ three luxury ships: World Navigator, World Traveller and World Voyager. When the opportunity arose to experience it firsthand, I couldn’t resist.

Today, I’m boarding World Traveller for its Iceland and Norway itinerary, sailing from July 10–21, 2025. Be sure to follow along with my daily blog here and check out my updates on our Facebook page here. Enjoy!

One year later, I once again set foot on Iceland, returning to the familiar yet mysterious northern capital—Reykjavík. The sky hung heavy with clouds, and a fine drizzle whispered through the air, yet none of it could dampen the joy and anticipation in my heart.

The chimes of the cathedral still echoed gently, lingering in the moist breeze. Crowds gathered, as ever, in front of the famed hot dog stand. Time, it seemed, had scarcely passed. But this time, I would aboard the World Traveller, embarking on a 12-day voyage through Iceland and Norway.

July 10, 2025 (Thursday) - Reykjavik

Around 3 p.m., I made my way to the harbor. Beneath the slowly turning Ferris wheel, the World Traveller stood poised and ready, her pristine blue & white hull glowing softly in the misty rain—serene, dignified.

As I stepped aboard, I was warmly greeted by the ship’s staff and escorted to the lounge on the 4th floor. A warm towel was offered, followed by champagne bubbling with delight, paired with delicate canapés. Unlike the long queues of check-in counters in previous trips, this time the boarding process was smooth and elegant. Staff members moved gracefully from guest to guest, scanning passports and handing over room keys with quiet efficiency.

My first impression of the World Traveller was of refinement and care—new, yet imbued with soul. I had booked a French balcony cabin. As I walked inside, I was welcomed by a spacious, light-filled room. The upper section of the floor-to-ceiling window could be opened or closed at the touch of a button by the bedside. A backpack and water bottle, courtesy of Atlas Ocean Voyages, awaited me on the bed. Along the desk, American, European, and USB power outlets were neatly arranged. The room included a coffee machine, a kettle, a minibar stocked with soft drinks and beer, and even a pair of binoculars.

The bathroom was adorned in marble, both on the floor and the walls, and stocked with luxurious L’Occitane toiletries. Even the wardrobe contained a pair of cozy slippers, tucked away with care.

The ship’s wellness facilities were no less impressive. On the seventh deck, a warm-water swimming pool and a jet jacuzzi invited relaxation; on the eighth deck, a running track circled above the ocean. A sauna, a gym, and spa completed the tranquil offerings—a floating sanctuary at sea.

Before dinner, a local choir from Reykjavík came aboard to perform. Their voices rose like the Icelandic wind, like the shimmer of the aurora—ethereal, stirring, unforgettable.

At 9:45 p.m., the World Traveller slipped quietly from the harbor, cutting through the twilight of the North Atlantic, bound for tomorrow.

July 11, 2025 (Friday) - Isafjordur

Around noon, the World Traveller is expected to arrive in Ísafjörður, the largest town on Iceland’s wild northwestern peninsula.

The open-sea crossing last night was a little rough, but with today’s leisurely itinerary, I gladly surrendered to a rare indulgence - a late sleep, rocked by the ship's sway, drifting in and out of dreams.

Before lunch, a distinguished guest lecturer onboard David Drewry, Vice-Chair of the UK National Committee for UNESCO, offered us a seminar on the fiery origins of Iceland’s landscape. Here, where glaciers and volcanoes collide, the earth reveals both its fury and its soul.

As the talk drew to a close, our ship quietly glided into the harbor of Ísafjörður. Mountains rose steep and sheer on both sides, then stopped abruptly - flattened at their peaks. These formations date back 10 to 16 million years, remnants of volcanic eruptions trapped beneath Ice Age glaciers. When molten lava met the deep freeze, it birthed the silent, brooding mountains we now see.

In the afternoon, I joined an eagerly anticipated whale-watching excursion. Our guide explained that these fjord waters are a favorite haunt of humpback whales, and if lucky enough, we might also glimpse minke whales or even orcas.

Our boat sliced through the deep fjords, seabirds danced on the wind, and puffins - those whimsical little clowns of the sea - flapped frantically across the waves in their comical takeoffs.

Suddenly, a blow was seen not far away - whales! I raised the binoculars just in time to catch a humpback surfacing in all its grandeur. The next hour passed in quiet awe: spouts, tail slaps, one moment giving way to the next, as if the ocean itself were performing. Our phones filled quickly, but no lens could fully capture the wonder of the moment.

Back at the harbor, the day was still young. I wandered the streets of the little town, just as a sunshower gave way to a brilliant clearing. The sky turned crystalline blue, clouds drifting lazily, the hillsides lush and glowing. Birds glided over mirrored waters, their reflections painting soft ripples. The sunlight warmed my skin; my heart felt just as bright.

Before I returned to the ship, I struck up a conversation with a local young man checking in guests for our ship. A second-year electrical engineering student, born and raised here. He told me that each summer, this town of just 3,000 welcomes nearly a million visitors. Since June, he’s worked daily at the port, nonstop until mid-September. Only then did I truly sense the quiet hum beneath the calm - the hidden pulse of a town caught in the swell of summer. Today alone, four ships were in port: ours, plus the Ponant, Viking, and Holland America.

At 6:30 p.m., our captain Yevgenly Lebedenko hosted a welcome cocktail party at Atlas lounge on Deck 4. This voyage is staffed by 118 crew members, each dedicated to making our journey seamless. Dinner offered an added delight - butter glazed lobster.

After dinner, I went up to Deck 7 for a walk. The wind blew hard. A few Icelandic gulls flapped alongside us, racing the ship. On either side, those flat-topped mountains still watched over us, their ancient volcanic craters stark in the fading light. The sun dipped westward, gilding the horizon in gold. Silence fell over the deck, broken only by the sound of the wind - a moment suspended in time.

July 12, 2025 (Saturday) - Akureyri

Today our ship docked in Akureyri, often called the Capital of North Iceland. With a population of just over 20,000, it’s the second-largest urban area in Iceland outside the greater Reykjavík region. Though settled since the 9th century, Akureyri wasn’t officially chartered until 1786. During World War II, it served as a base for Allied forces. Located just 60 kilometers south of the Arctic Circle, the town enjoys a surprisingly mild climate and ice-free harbor year-round, making it a vital transport and fishing hub.

After breakfast, I headed straight for the pier to join my pre-booked shore excursion. It was a six-hour journey covering several of Akureyri’s most iconic sights - and I was genuinely excited.

The sky was gray, and a light drizzle fell from time to time. Our bus carrying eleven of us, departed right on schedule, driving smoothly along the winding mountain roads. Outside the window, charming red-roofed farmhouses dotted the hills, interspersed with cows, sheep, and the occasional Icelandic horse. These horses, among the world’s purest breeds, have lived on this island for over a thousand years. To protect their lineage, Iceland strictly forbids the import or export of horses.

The sky, moody as ever in Iceland, suddenly broke open. A shaft of sunlight pierced through the clouds and illuminated green mountains still crowned with ice. Wisps of fog lingered around the mid-slopes, casting a mysterious, almost enchanted aura across the landscape.

Our first stop was Goðafoss, or Waterfall of the Gods. Around the year 1000, Iceland officially adopted Christianity. According to legend, the law speaker at the time, Thorgeir, threw his pagan idols into this very waterfall, symbolizing the nation's conversion. The name Goðafoss commemorates this act. Shaped like a horseshoe, the falls are about 100 feet wide and plunge from a height of 40 feet, thundering into the river below. The water has a milky-white hue, which our guide Luca explained is due to mineral-rich glacial melt.

Our second stop was Dimmuborgir, known as The Dark Fortress. This surreal lava field formed 2,300 years ago when molten lava flowed over a marshy area. As the lava flowed, water underneath boiled, creating steam vents that solidified into the towering pillars and unique rock formations that characterize Dimmuborgir today.

Folklore runs deep here. Dimmuborgir is said to be a gateway between Earth and Hell - and the mythical home of Iceland’s infamous thirteen Yule Lads. Each December, from the 12th to the 24th, one of the mischievous brothers sneaks down from the mountains each night. Well-behaved children receive gifts in their shoes; the naughty ones? Just a raw potato. A cue to be better next year.

Next came Námaskarð, a geothermal area so otherworldly that stepping off the bus felt like arriving on another planet. The ground was painted in surreal shades of brown, yellow, ochre, and ash gray. Steam hissed from fissures, and a strong smell of sulfur clung to the air. Pools of boiling mud bubbled all around us.

Námaskarð is part of the Krafla volcanic system, located on the tectonic boundary between the North American and Eurasian plates. Its Martian-like terrain has drawn filmmakers from around the world - including the 2015 Star Wars: The Force Awakens production.

Our final stop was the Skútustaðir pseudo-craters. These crater-like formations sit along the shores of tranquil Lake Mývatn and were formed 2,300 years ago when lava flowed over wetlands, triggering steam explosions. Unlike true volcanic craters, they lack a direct magma chamber, which is why they're known as “rootless cones.”

A packed day excursion came to an end. I waved goodbyes to a few new friends from the Viking cruise ship and returned home - to the World Traveller.

Before dinner, Ian Ridpath from the Royal Astronomical Society gave a captivating lecture on the history of the moon landings. Then, at 6:30 PM, we returned to our staterooms for a lovely meet-and-greet with our hallway neighbors. Interestingly, all my neighbors were American - hailing from Iowa, Florida, Pennsylvania, and Virginia. A thoughtful touch by Atlas to foster connection.

At 9:30 PM, Cruise Director Daniel hosted a themed concert night in the panoramic lounge on Deck 7: An Evening of Love Songs. As Daniel serenaded us with romantic ballads from the 1960s and ’70s, guests couldn’t help but get up and dance. Laughter, music, and shared joy filled the room - it was truly a night to remember.

July 13, 2025 (Sunday)

Today marks the final stop of our journey in Iceland. When I woke up this morning, our cruise ship had already docked in Seyðisfjörður, a small town in eastern Iceland. This is one of the country’s oldest settlements, with archaeological remains dating back at least to the 11th century.

In 1848, Norwegian fishermen settled here. Then in 1864, American Thomas Welcome Roys founded the world’s first modern industrialized whaling station nearby. By 1906, Iceland’s first telegraph line connecting Europe was inaugurated here, turning this remote town into an important hub for global communications - at least until the mid-20th century.

Today’s weather was exceptionally clear - bright blue skies without a single cloud. After lunch, I changed into a T-shirt and shorts, and headed out. Just across from where our ship was docked lies Budareyrarfoss waterfall. Though the path wasn't long, the incline was quite steep.

About half an hour later, I found myself standing at the foot of the waterfall. Looking up, the rushing water leapt off the cliff, sparkling in the sunlight and crashing onto the rocks below, casting mist into the air. Across the bay, green mountain slopes were dusted with snow, and in the distance, countless other waterfalls shimmered under the sun.

After descending, I strolled through the town’s charming streets. The place was bustling, with locals and visitors alike soaking in the rare sunshine. Many gathered at the iconic rainbow path in front of the church to take photos. Since there was still time, I continued south along Route 93 for a while. After admiring another cascade waterfall up close, I returned to the ship, still filled with wonder.

At 7 p.m., the World Traveller slowly pulled away from the pier. I went up to Deck 7 to take in the breathtaking scenery on both sides of the fjord, bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun.

Good bye Iceland, until we meet again!