For years we bought travel insurance the way most people do: per trip, every time, slightly begrudgingly and always wondering if it was worth it. A policy for Iceland. A policy for Norway. Another one for Portugal. By the time we were taking five or six trips a year — which added up faster than we expected once travel became our job — without even considering the time factor.

The switch to an annual plan travel insurance felt obvious. One policy, one payment, covered for every trip we take that year — including the spontaneous ones, the long weekends, and the press trips we sometimes get a short notice for.

But an annual multi-trip travel insurance isn't the right answer for everyone. If you're planning one long continuous trip — a three-month slow travel stint through Southeast Asia, a working season abroad, a sabbatical — a long-stay policy is a completely different product and usually a better fit. Here's how both work, and how to figure out which one applies to you.

We've chased the northern lights in Iceland several times — and the single most important thing we learned is that timing is only half the equation. The other half is knowing how to read the conditions on the night itself and being willing to move when the forecast tells you to (well, and a bit of elf magic and luck too).

Most northern lights guides will tell you to go in January and cross your fingers. That's not wrong, but it's not the whole picture either. The best time to see the northern lights in Iceland depends on what you're optimising for — maximum darkness, best weather odds, equinox activity, or the current solar cycle — and the answer is different depending on which of those matters most to you.

This article is specifically about timing and forecasting. If you're still deciding whether Iceland is the right aurora destination for you at all, we've covered that in detail in our northern lights Iceland guide. If you're new to aurora hunting altogether, start with our northern lights for dummies guide first. And if you're ready to book and need hotel recommendations, go straight to our best northern lights hotels in Iceland. This piece sits between those two: it's for people who are going, and want to make the most of it.

Everything here is part of our northern lights hub — our full library of aurora guides covering destinations, gear, photography, and planning.

The Algarve everyone knows — the golden sea stacks, the crowded summer beaches, the all-inclusive resorts — is real. But it's a small part of a region that has cork oak forests, protected Atlantic coastline, Moorish architecture, wetland nature reserves, and some of the most characterful small hotels in Portugal.

The accommodation on this list exists across all of it. The best version of an Algarve trip (in our humble opinion) usually combines at least two of these areas: a few days in the backcountry west, a few days in the east near Tavira, and as much time as possible on the beaches in between.

Most people visit Sintra as a day trip from Lisbon. We get it — it's only 40 minutes by train, the palaces are right there, and the Instagram shots basically take themselves. But if you leave when the last bus goes, you miss what Sintra actually is.

Stay overnight and you get the village after the tour groups have gone. Cobblestone streets with no one on them. The fog rolling in off the Serra de Sintra as the light fades. The Pena Palace turning a deep orange in the last hour of sun. And, if you venture towards the sea, you’ll find sweeping ocean views all to yourself. A completely different place from the one 20,000 day-trippers saw.

The other thing nobody tells you: Sintra has some of the most characterful boutique accommodation in all of Portugal. Converted manor houses on century-old estates. Cliff-top guesthouses with rooms named after the Atlantic light. Former town halls turned into seven-suite hotels. The options are unique, and unlike Lisbon, they haven't been swallowed up by big chains yet.

Here's where to stay in Sintra, broken down by area.

The Alentejo is the kind of region that people stumble into without much of a plan and end up rearranging their whole trip around. Cork trees, bone-white hilltop villages, vineyards that stretch to the horizon. Pair it with the Costa Vicentina — the wild, protected coastline that runs south toward the Algarve — and you've got one of the most underrated stretches of Portugal. We absolutely fell in love with it!

The hotels tend to match the landscape. Converted farmhouses on 300-year-old estates. Low-slung whitewashed houses built into the Alentejo plain. Rural guesthouses where breakfast is local cheese, tomatoes, and bread still warm from the oven. Finding the right hotel in the Alentejo or along Costa Vicentina often means the whole trip falls into place around it.

We've split this guide by region, because the Alentejo interior and the coast are different trips (but are ideal when combined).

Portugal is one of those countries where the accommodation itself becomes part of the trip. You can find a hotel in Portugal that overlooks an Atlantic cliff, wake up to the sound of cork oaks in the Alentejo, or stumble into a surf lodge where the salt air never leaves. And you can do most of it without paying five-star prices — if you know where to look.

There are a lot of Portugal guides out there, but they all mention the same tourist spots. What follows is our by-region breakdown of where to stay in Portugal — the places we've stayed, the ones we'd book today, and the regions we think are seriously underrated.

Planning a Ring Road self-drive is one of those trips that feels straightforward on paper — one road, loop it, done — until you actually try to figure out where to sleep. Iceland's Route 1 runs 1,332 km around the entire island, and even the South Coast stretch alone — from Reykjavík east to Höfn, covering the waterfalls, the glaciers, and Jökulsárlón — takes the better part of a week if you're doing it properly (and as it deserves).

This guide covers exactly that section. We've organized it by driving segment, because when you're planning a road trip, what you actually need to know is where to sleep after each day's drive. One rule before we start: book the glacier lagoon area first. Before Vík, before Reykjavík, before anything. Fewest options, highest demand, fastest sellout. If you read nothing else, remember that.

All properties here are bookable via Booking.com. Several also appear in our dedicated northern lights hotels in Iceland guide — we've flagged those below, since this stretch of the South Coast is excellent aurora territory in winter.

Reykjavik, as cool as it is, has earned its reputation as one of Europe's pricier capitals. A sit-down dinner for two, a round of drinks, a whale watching tour — the numbers add up fast, and they tend to go in one direction. But here's something the typical "budget Iceland" articles gloss over: Reykjavik has a surprisingly solid free list. Not "free in the sense that you're still spending on transport and food" free — genuinely, spend-nothing free.

The locals aren't eating at tourist restaurants or paying for entry to every museum. They're swimming in geothermal pools, walking the harbor, browsing flea markets, and sitting outside bakeries with a coffee and a pastry watching the light do something extraordinary to the sky. Most of that costs very little, and some of it costs nothing at all.

Here's what's actually worth your time — and your money, in the cases where a small amount is well spent.

We've been to Iceland three times. The first was right after the 2008 financial crisis, when the Icelandic króna had collapsed and the country briefly became a very affordable destination. A private room in a hostel for €60. Those days are firmly gone.

If you’re wondering if Iceland is that expensive, let's be direct: Iceland is one of the most expensive countries in the world to visit. That's not a rumor or a rounding error — it's consistently near the top of the global rankings for cost of living and travel costs. A coffee will make you wince. A restaurant meal will drain your budget. The silver lining? It’s so expensive that even Norway will look cheap after it!

But here's the thing. The gap between a poorly planned Iceland trip and a well-planned one is enormous — larger than almost anywhere else. A few smart decisions on flights, car rental, food, and accommodation can cut your total spend dramatically without touching the parts of Iceland that actually matter. The volcanoes, the waterfalls, the glaciers, the northern lights — those are mostly free. What costs money is everything around them, and that's where the savings are.

We often get asked if a travel insurance is necessary.

Good question!

Keep reading to find out, to learn all the benefits of a travel insurance, and to enjoy 5% discount — up to 15% off with seasonal offers — exclusive to Penguin Trampoline readers if you do need one.

Iceland has a well-worn tourist circuit. Jökulsárlón, Reynisfjara, the Blue Lagoon, Gullfoss, Geysir — these are famous for good reason, and most people see all of them in a week-long ring road loop. They're genuinely spectacular. No one's going to talk you out of visiting them.

But here's the thing: these places have become way too popular. When we first visited 17 years ago, we had them mostly to ourselves in autumn. In 2026, it’s a different story. However, for most of these spots, the best-kept secret is that you barely have to go anywhere to find something just as good with a fraction of the people. The alternatives aren't buried on some niche hiking forum. They're right there — a 10-minute walk in most cases, or a short drive at most. You just have to know to look.

This guide is for people who already have the classics on the itinerary, got tired of the crowds and want to know what else is hiding nearby. All of it is doable with a rental car and no specialist equipment. Most of it is free.

Iceland is probably the most Googled northern lights destination on the planet. And honestly? There are good reasons for that — but also a few things the average aurora guide won't tell you. If you're deciding whether Iceland is the right choice for your northern lights trip, this is the honest version of that answer.

The short version: yes, Iceland is a legitimate aurora destination, and for most people it's a brilliant choice. But it comes with a specific set of trade-offs that are worth understanding before you book. Because if you're going solely to see the lights with the highest possible odds, Iceland isn't actually your best bet. If you're going to Iceland for the full experience — and you want the lights as a bonus that will make the whole thing extraordinary — it might be the best trip of your life.

I (Eli) have walked on a glacier before. Specifically, on the Root Glacier in Wrangell-St. Elias National Park in Alaska — one of the coolest things I have ever done, literally. I came away from that trip with something I hadn't expected: a genuine obsession. Not with glaciers as a category, but with the specific, irrepeatable character of each one. They move differently, they look different, they feel different underfoot. Each glacier is like a natural museum. I will never get tired of them.

This was Jake's first glacier hike, and we both had been in an ice cave in Svalbard. And here's the thing about that: it didn't matter that I'd done it before. Walking onto Vatnajökull felt new for both of us.

We did the Ice Cave & Glacier Hike in Skaftafell with Icelandia — the tour brand of Icelandic Mountain Guides, one of the most established glacier guiding operations in Iceland, and our guide was Brook. Here’s our experience.

There's a particular type of tourist attraction in Iceland that does the same thing: ambient music, a café serving overpriced skyr, and a few hundred people in matching robes shuffling between milky pools. They're great. The views are real. But after the third one, you start to wonder if you're visiting Iceland or an influencer's photo shoot studio.

Hvammsvík is different.

Eight natural geothermal pools cut directly into the North Atlantic shoreline of Hvalfjörður — Whale Fjord — about 56 kilometers from Reykjavík. At high tide, the lowest pools merge with the sea. There's no ambient playlist. No silica mud ceremony. No instructions to apply a complimentary face mask. Just warm water, cold air carrying salt and kelp from the fjord, mountains across the water, and — if you go on a quiet winter morning and time it right — almost nobody else there.

We went on exactly that morning. One of the better decisions we've made when choosing hot springs in Iceland.

Don't go in expecting a reef. Þingvallavatn is home to three of Iceland's five freshwater fish species: brown trout (Salmo trutta), Arctic char (Salvelinus alpinus) — which has evolved into four distinct morphs in this lake alone — and the three-spined stickleback (Gasterosteus aculeatus, or hornsili in Icelandic). Thingvellir Whether you'll actually see any of them in Silfra is another matter — the water is cold, clear, and not especially hospitable, and fish tend to stay in the broader lake. But they're out there, and the sheer fact that an isolated population has had roughly 10,000 years to adapt to the specific conditions of this lava-filtered glacial environment Thingvellir makes the ecosystem feel like one more layer of quiet wonder in a place that has plenty of them.

There's a tunnel under Hvalfjörður that most people take without thinking twice. It shaves 42 kilometres off the drive north. Efficient and practical? Sure. And almost certainly the biggest navigational mistake you can make in West Iceland.

Drive around the fjord instead. And if you really want to do it properly, stay there.

Out of curiosity, I (Eli) drove around Hvalfjördur 15 years ago on my way to the Snæfellsnes peninsula and still remembered it. Quiet, empty, no tour buses, and cool road signs like “Blindhæð” and “Sheep crossing”. The kind of Icelandic landscape that makes you feel like the country is performing exclusively for you rather than for the forty people in matching rain jackets behind you at Geysir.

And this time, even though Iceland got way more (too?) popular, we still found exactly this: a 30-kilometre fjord flanked by mountains that drop straight into dark water, a sky that does something different every single hour of the day, and a cabin on a hillside that we didn't particularly want to leave: Brekka Retreat & Spa Suites.

Iceland does not do subtle.

The ground cracks open. Glaciers melt over volcanoes. Geysers blast boiling water into the air every few minutes to remind you of the activity underneath.

And then, in a quietly lit room in Reykjavík's harbor district, a stream of glowing orange lava — real, 1,100°C (2,000°F) molten lava — pours in front of your face while you sit in your seat, feeling your cheeks get very, very warm.

That's the Lava Show.. And yes, it's exactly as spectacular as it sounds.

We experienced it during our recent trip to Iceland, and it earned its place as one of the most fascinating things we've done in a country that is, let's be honest, already full of genuinely fascinating things.

Here's the full story — including how it works, where the lava actually comes from, and what happens when you hold a piece of Iceland's volcanic past in your hands.

Iceland is a land shaped by fire and ice. Volcanoes erupt, glaciers creep across valleys, and the wind does whatever it wants.

In that kind of environment, you need a tough companion.

Enter the Icelandic horse, one of the most beloved symbols of the country.

During our recent trip, we rode through the lava fields outside Reykjavík with the team at Solhestar. No crowds, no gimmicks. Just lovely horses, good guides, and miles of volcanic landscape.

And one very opinionated horse named Spirit.

Ready for the ride?

There's a particular kind of overconfidence that comes with booking an igloo in Iceland. You picture yourself lying in a warm, transparent pod, a glass of something good in hand, the northern lights pulsing overhead like the sky has been switched to a setting nobody told you about. It looks incredible on Instagram. It looks incredible in your head.

But, obviously, Lady Aurora (and nature) doesn’t work on a schedule.

We stayed at Aurora Igloo South just outside the small town of Hella on Iceland's south coast, during a night of low KP and stubborn cloud cover. We didn't see the northern lights. What we did see was a gorgeous orange sunset, followed by the kind of star-filled sky you only get when you're far enough from anything to actually notice the dark. It wasn't what we'd planned. It was still worth every minute.

This is the honest version of that stay.

Most people experience Keflavík at approximately forty miles an hour. They land at KEF, get into a transfer bus, and move toward Reykjavík without a second look. The town slides past the window like the obligatory opening credits nobody reads. A petrol station. Some warehouses. Dark lava on both sides of the road.

It's an unfortunate habit.

We arrived at Hotel Keflavik in March, at the tail end of 17 days against Iceland's winter — frozen waterfalls, snowstorms, wind that had a very clear opinion about us being outside. We were tired in the way that active winter Iceland makes you tired, which is a specific, addictive kind of tired that involves sore legs, perpetually damp base layers, and a negotiated peace with the cold. The hotel was meant to be a convenient pre-flight stop. It turned into a proper, blissful ending to the trip.