Overview / Diamond Beach
Diamond Beach
The black sand opposite the lagoon, where icebergs that made it out to sea get thrown back onto the shore by the surf. Free, always open, and five minutes' walk from the same car park.
The name is a nickname, not a place name. On a map this is Breiðamerkursandur, the broad glacial outwash plain that Breiðamerkurjökull built out of the rock it carried down. The sand is black because it is basalt, ground fine and washed to the coast.
The ice arrives by a short and slightly absurd route. Bergs calve from the glacier, drift the length of the lagoon, squeeze out through the outlet channel under the Route 1 bridge, and reach the Atlantic — where the surf frequently refuses to take them and shoves them straight back onto the sand a few hundred metres away.
What is left on the beach is old, dense, bubble-free ice that has spent centuries under pressure. It is glass-clear rather than white, which is why it reads as diamonds against black sand, and why photographs of it are the reason most people come.
Practical
East side or west side
The river mouth splits the beach, and there is a car park on each side. Eystri-Fellsfjara is the eastern lot, Vestari-Fellsfjara the western one. Both are signposted off Route 1 within a kilometre of the lagoon.
They are not interchangeable. The current shifts which side collects ice from week to week, so one can be strewn with bergs while the other is bare sand. Neither is reliably better. If the first one you try looks thin, the other is two minutes' drive away.
If you would rather not drive at all, the beach is an easy walk from the lagoon car park: cross under the bridge on the marked path and you are there in five to ten minutes.
The sea here is genuinely dangerous
This is the same coastline that produces the sneaker waves people are warned about at Reynisfjara. The beach shelves steeply, the water is deep close in, and waves arrive in irregular sets — a stretch of small ones followed without warning by one that runs far higher up the sand than the last twenty did.
Keep well back from the waterline, further than feels necessary, and never turn your back on the water to pose for a photograph. Watch a full few minutes of wave sets before deciding where to stand.
Do not climb on the icebergs. They are unstable, they roll without warning, and a berg sitting in the wash can be lifted and dropped by a single wave. People have been badly hurt doing exactly this.
Do not let children run ahead toward the water, and keep hold of anything you would mind losing — phones dropped here are usually not recovered.
When to come
Winter has more ice; summer has more comfort
There is more ice on the sand in the colder months, when bergs survive the crossing instead of melting on the way, and the low winter sun sits behind them for most of the short day. Photographers generally consider November to March the strongest window, and it is also when the beach is emptiest.
Summer trades ice for ease. There is usually still something on the sand, the driving is straightforward, and around midnight in June the light goes long and gold without ever properly setting. It is a good time to visit and a poor time to have the place to yourself.
Whatever the month, low tide exposes more and gives you more room to work with. Check the tide before you set out — it matters more here than the time of day.
Is there always ice on the beach?
No. It depends on what the lagoon has released and what the surf has done with it. Most visits find something; some find a nearly empty beach. Nobody can promise it in advance, and any source that does is guessing.
How long should I allow?
Half an hour is enough to see it. An hour is better if you are photographing, and lets you check both sides of the river mouth.
Are there toilets?
At the main lagoon car park across the road, along with a café kiosk in season. The beach lots themselves have little or nothing, so use the facilities before you walk over.
Can I take a piece of ice home?
It will be meltwater before you reach the car, which rather answers it. Leave it where it is — it is part of what the next people came to see.