Cruise to Greenland/ Iceland 2023

One of MANY waterfalls we saw

Cruising North: Iceland, August 2023

Early August, two weeks on the move. Crew was mixed: me, my wife, my mom, my son, and his fiancée (now wife). We staged out of Seattle, flew to Newark, and planned a short, compressed hit on New York before boarding the ship.

Wake-up was 0330. Hotel across from the airport the night before—because waking up at midnight to drive to Seattle is how bad decisions start. Flight was exactly what you’d expect: cramped seats, no food, screaming kids. Newark didn’t disappoint either. Rental car, immediate traffic, zero patience. NYC doesn’t drive—it competes.

We dumped gear at the hotel and pushed straight into the city for dinner. I’ve driven Seattle, LA, Miami, Chicago. New York is a different animal. Horns nonstop. Everyone cuts everyone off—cars, buses, cops. It’s loud, aggressive, and constant.

Once parked, things improved. Walked into Central Park, took a carriage ride, passed the Lennon memorial. Worth seeing. One important operational detail: my wife was running a walking boot. Two months earlier she’d sprained her ankle mowing a lawn in flip-flops. So when I say we “walked” New York, what I mean is we moved fast, boot and all.

Dinner plan was “best pizza in New York.” That required the subway. I don’t love underground public transit systems, especially unarmed—but my son’s a Marine, so odds were acceptable. Subway ride was uneventful. Pizza was… fine. Overhyped. I’ve had better in Moab. Atmosphere was solid. Service was fine. Couldn’t tell you where we ate—I followed the group and trusted the process.

Back to the hotel. Early start again.

Next morning: Statue of Liberty. Ferry out, tour through, as high as we could go. We had access to the crown, but between the boot, the clock, and the narrow staircase, we passed. My son didn’t. He ran it. Up and down. Blurry photos, mission complete. We handed our access badges to another couple who couldn’t get them. Good trade.

We hit the 9/11 memorial afterward. Heavy place. Worth stopping. Then it was a sprint back to the hotel, grab gear, and push to the cruise terminal.

Dropped my wife and the kids at the dock with the luggage. Mom and I returned the rental a few miles away and caught the shuttle back. Boarding was smooth—far easier than our Mexico cruise. Cabin had a balcony. Good call.

This ship was “small” by cruise standards, which mattered. Smaller ports. Tender operations. More flexibility. It still felt big, well-run, and far better executed than our previous Carnival experience. Crew was dialed in.

North Atlantic Legs

First port: Halifax, Nova Scotia. No easing into it. Rental car, straight to Prince Edward Island—about 6.5 hours round trip. We don’t avoid road time. Mom’s collecting Canadian provinces like merit badges.

Stopped at Cow’s Creamery. Lost more time than planned. Timeline got tight. Dropped the car and still had a mile walk back to the ship—with the walking boot. We made it.

Next: St. John’s, Newfoundland. Completely different tone. Chill port. Hired Dave from Jelly Bean Tours. Comedian, driver, tour guide—highly competent, very human. Signal Hill, then lunch at Yellowbelly Brewery. Excellent food. Excellent service.

Every interaction in Newfoundland was solid. Friendly, patient, unforced. I had my first “Newfy standoff” at a mini mart—two people insisting the other go first. That says a lot about a place.

After Newfoundland, a couple sea days before Greenland.

Greenland & Ice

Qaqortoq, South Greenland. Tender ride in—lifeboats to shore. Small town, fully walkable. Quiet. Grocery store open, everything else felt closed—Sunday, cruise ship presence, or both.

Locals weren’t thrilled. Streets filled with tourists who didn’t move for cars. Locals solved it by honking once and driving through at speed. Message received. Still—absolutely beautiful terrain.

Next day was the highlight transit: Prince Christian Sound. Icebergs. Glaciers. Real scale. The captain stopped the ship and spun a full 360—twice. Crew members from all over the world stood on deck taking photos like kids seeing snow for the first time. Even their supervisor eventually joined in. Shared awe cuts through hierarchy fast.

We passed another cruise ship coming the opposite direction—close enough to feel like you could reach out and touch it.

Iceland (Finally)

First port: Akureyri. Immediate movement. While sorting the rental, my son and I spotted lifted E-series vans on 44s running tour duty. I suggested we take one. We didn’t.

We ran Goðafoss, Húsavík, cliffs, black sand beach. Iceland didn’t disappoint. It recalibrates your idea of space and weather. I could live there in the summer.

Next port: Ísafjörður. Correction—I could live there in the summer. Waterfalls everywhere. Empty roads. No filler. Unreal terrain.

Final stop: Reykjavík. Cruise ends, trip doesn’t. New rental. Golden Circle. Waterfalls. Geysers. Skipped Blue Lagoon—too many people. Hit Secret Lagoon instead. Smaller, quieter, geothermal water, no circus.

Stayed in Hella. Next morning: Selfoss. Rode Icelandic horses—small, tough, purpose-built. Learned about Hekla, the volcano that repeatedly destroys and rebuilds its surroundings.

We finished by running the southern coast, stopped in Eyrarbakki, then crossed the Bridge Between Continents. Stood with one foot on each tectonic plate. It’s touristy—but still real.

Airport came too fast.

Exit

Leaving Iceland sucked. Airport was efficient. Flight was direct to Seattle. We upgraded to first class—first time for everyone but mom. Worth it. Lounge food, space, quiet. I passed out shortly after takeoff. My wife stayed awake and enjoyed every minute.

I’d go back to Iceland without hesitation. Summer base, no question.

Some places feel like destinations.
Others feel like they could be operational ground.

Iceland was the second kind.